Philemon Pt. 03

He'd already been given an idea of my room. I had deliberated long and hard as to whether or not to remove the ankle and wrist restraints from my bed. I'd decided not to. They were after all a part of my nature and play apparatus as a switch. I gained great pleasure from being in the restraints myself or in restraining and having my wicked way with my helpless partner.

When I say 'wicked way', I don't mean causing harm. It is not in my nature to behave so. Most of my power lies in the ability to tease. There is some physical discipline at times but only if it's agreed that both parties are accepting of that.

Philemon though was untried. He wasn't exactly innocent but he'd had very little opportunity to experiment. He'd made it known to me that he was open to exploring, to trying new things. So the restraints stayed.

I could see he was very aroused. His trousers were tented. His breathing fast. I lit a small bedside lamp. The curtains were already drawn. A little light from the dying afternoon filtered still. Two candles either side of the bed sent calming fragrances into the air when lit. Their glow revealed our shining eyes. So full of anticipation.

I pushed him gently onto the bed. He sat and watched as I dropped to my knees. His hand reached for my hair. His whispered compliments fell like summer rain. His voice sent surges of adrenaline through my veins. Tingles of pleasure coursed down the backs of my thighs. I rested my hands on his and positioned myself so that my stomach rested on his hardened crotch. I could feel the heat.

Our lips met. Our tongues. Our breath. I'd wanted him here for so long. I could not resist his gentle boyish smile, the look in his eyes of eager anticipation. I needed to possess him with my body.

He differed in experience to me. But he wasn't shy. I didn't treat him as though he was. I was aiming for consideration. I was aiming for an exchange of knowledge. I wanted to learn this man. I didn't want it to be a one time only event.

The candles flickered and he slowly helped me out of my top. His eyes widened at the sight of my full breasts encased in white lace. I remembered him saying he had a preference for such lingerie. I peeled the cup of one side down and guided his mouth in that direction. He was learning fast because he didn't go there straight away. He took the long route, kissing, sucking and licking my sensitive skin till my nipples were hard and sensitive.

His attention elicited an indulgent moan when he took my nipple gladly into his mouth. Light strokes of his tongue made moisture seep between my legs. There was a tightness in my chest. Butterflies fluttered inside me. They spiraled and suddenly I was in his lap straddling him. Things were escalating and we scrambled up the bed. I found myself on my back. He was over me, gorging himself hungrily on my bosom like a fevered dream.

Quite unconsciously, I canted my hips towards him. My pussy had not forgotten the ministrations of his mouth there. She needed to be touched too. She was overcome by envy of what pleasures he was bringing to my breasts.

Our minds seemed to reach the conclusion at the same time that our clothes must go. We helped each other. The reveal so intimate. So touching. And the slide of skin against skin, divine. His body settled over mine and quite without guidance his cock found its way.

I gasped as his tip brushed my damp cleft, my tiny clit inside, spasming with the minutest of contact. He manhandled my breasts and furrowed himself through my valley although still not yet penetrating.

We kissed with thunderous hearts. He pulled back and my euphoria escalated as he found my entrance and slid his engorged weeping helmet inside. I almost came fom the dual sensation and knowledge of our essences intermixing. I'd hungered for this for so long.

We gazed deeply at each other, his most sensitive part notched inside my body. We rocked together, deeper by increments. It was a painful glory but in a good way.

"Fuck you are so tight," he said.

At his words I grabbed his ass cheeks, unable to resist his passion. I contracted my loins, eliciting low moans from him. His head was buried in my neck now. He began to quicken. I wrapped my legs about him as he pistoned into my accommodating well.

Lost in heaven I felt myself climbing. He sensed it. Cries of frustration, urgency and glee filled the room and then suddenly I fell. I surrendered everything and cried out loudly over and over as he filled me deep, his body taut like a bow. He gave me every last drop, then with a few sensual lazy thrusts pushed his load ever deeper as if to claim.

The possessiveness of the act set me off again. Only it was less intense this time.

We rolled over. My head on his chest. And I wondered who had defiled who. Or was what we had just done a new thing, unique to us, the beginning of us finding our own way?

I think it was.