Voracious

Donovan

It's late evening. I'm sitting on the sofa absent-mindedly watching TV. I'm donning my sleek, black prosthetic leg and wearing a black graphic tee and pair of joggers. I'm watching some kind of horror movie to pass the time and keep me distracted from any nervousness. I've been speaking to Katiya for about 3 months online, after meeting her on a dating app, and this will be the first time meeting her in person. We could have met much earlier than this, but she's been cautious, seemingly assessing me in some way. I liked that, and her, enough to go along with it.

From the very first exchange of messages, we just clicked. At 22, she was younger than me, but only by about four years, and her profile had stood out to me more than any of the other ones I'd seen on there. I hadn't expected to have someone so interesting contact me first, but I hadn't been about to throw away that opportunity. And, damn, despite spending hours talking to her through messages and voice calls, and having been on dates before, right now I feel a nervousness that I haven't felt for a long time, it brings me back to my days as a secondary school kid.

I'm just about registering what's going on in the movie. A woman seemingly in her late twenties, or older, playing an 18-year-old woman, with a crazed murderer chasing after her. Generic slasher bullshit. And this is supposed to be a horror channel? What is so horrifying about that? It's the same crap all over again, unrealistically stupid characters, and a stereotypical inbred freak with a power tool. As a horror fan myself, I've always seen true horror as more creative than that. To me, true horror is when something you'd hardly even imagined could possibly happen to you is inflicted upon you.

The woman, now running through a forest, trips over a branch, her tits fly up, breaking from gravity as she flails and lets herself fall.

I laugh at her horrendous overacting.

Then, out of nowhere, I notice a change in the air that makes my stomach drop in a way I can't quite describe. It's unsettling, but also strangely enticing. It's then that I realise I can feel her, Katiya. Somehow, I just know she's outside.

I wonder at what point of proximity she is.

The door knocker sounds. I leap up before I can even register what my brain has commanded me to do.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, slightly embarrassed already and hoping I won't behave in any ridiculous manner.

I awkwardly give my thighs a brush down, despite them being completely crumb-free, and make my way to the door. I linger there for a second, savouring that intoxicating mix of excitement and disquiet for a moment longer, before opening.

She stands in front of me, in flesh, looking even better than in her pictures. She's wearing a strappy black top and double denim in the form of a grey oversized jacket and mini shorts, each article doing its part in complimenting her petite and curvy frame. Her hair is glossy and dark like raven feathers, waves flowing down far past her shoulders. She is wearing no makeup.

She doesn't look like a film star, yet she is utterly enticing.

Upon opening the door, a strange feeling hits me. I notice it has a strange sense of familiarity, but also, it's a feeling I don't associate with any person I've known. In fact, it feels great, like something awesome could happen at any moment. It reminds me of when I sit down at the dinner table at Christmas and admire the display of food on the table before the meal begins. Despite that, it still brings me a sense of unease.

My pulse speeds up in a strange and somewhat foreign way; it feels alien, even.

I'm overcome with a strange feeling of connectedness in a way that I've never had happen with anyone else. I have a sense that she wants to spend time with me today in a way that I've not spent time with someone before.

She smiles at me with a warm but mischievous smile, then brings me into a hug that I happily reciprocate.

"Hey," she says, "how are you?"

"Hey, I'm good. And you?" I respond.

As we hug, I notice she has a very subtle, nice scent about her that, for some reason, brings toffee apples to mind.

"I'm good," she smiles. She then pushes a paper dragonfly at me, "I made this for you."

I take it and inspect it. It's made of sturdy, black paper, folded neatly and intricately. I'm both flattered and impressed by this unusual, homemade gift.

"That's very cute. Thanks."

She smiles. I stand at the door still watching her, imagining how cute and focused she must've looked when she was folding her paper art.

"Are you gonna stop gawking at me and invite me inside?"

I snap out of my momentary stupor, and step aside.

"Oh. Yes, sorry. Come in."

She steps through the door, and as she walks past me, she gently pushes my mouth closed with her hand, teasingly.

Fuck, I really was standing there with my jaw on the floor like an idiot. She seems amused, proud of herself even.

As I close the door, she kicks off her slip-ons beside my own neatly positioned shoes, and then she's staring at me, still with that look on her face. It makes me want to just grab her and do god-knows what. In that moment, ideas of just what I could do flash through my head at speed. Looking at her, I recognise that in her eyes too. It's as if she even knows or is doing the same. I feel like she's just waiting for me, like somehow this is some kind of test. Is there a risk of failing? Or is there no truly right way to respond? Somehow, I feel like it's the latter. Or maybe that's what I'm hoping, instead.

Before I can go ahead with acting on any urges, Circe trots out to greet her, slinking around her legs.

"Oh, hi!" Katiya says, reaching down to pet her, to which Circe meows in response.

"I'm glad Circe likes you," I say.

"Yeah, that's always good news." She diverts her gaze to the surrealist serpent design on the front of my shirt, "I like your top, it's really cool."

"Thanks."

I did choose this t-shirt to wear because, from the conversations we'd had, I knew she'd like it. It's a bit faded from being washed countless times since the day I bought it 3 years ago, but it's still one of my favourite shirts.

"Have you got any plans of what you want us to do?"

She reaches up and places her hand on my chest, stroking her hand down me before letting it fall back down by her side. I feel a prickle of excitement shoot through me.

"Do you know what shibari is?"

I say it before even knowing what is coming out of my mouth, as if something compelled me to.

"What?"

"It's Japanese rope art. I can show you a cool tie. I'm still pretty crap at it though."

She looks amused.

"That's quite a way to say 'bondage', isn't it?"

I feel my cheeks begin to flush, unsure of what to say. She waits, allowing my cheeks to fully give me away, before speaking again.

"That sounds like it could be fun."

"It is an art though," I say sheepishly.

"I believe you," she says sincerely. "Now show me."

***

I lead Katiya to my bedroom just down the corridor, slowly, all the while relishing mental images of her restrained and suspended by knots. A part of me feels like she can feel my thoughts, and that part of me enjoys that too. The idea of having her body like that, restrained and contorted into an elaborate position with even more elaborately tied knots... I can make her body into my masterpiece. It would look just perfect, more perfect than I could even imagine. There's no way I could actually do even a quarter of those ideas with her, unless she was willing to be my guinea pig, because I've only actually done a few of the more basic ties before on my arm, I've never even done any of this with partners. Still, if she's no rope bunny then it won't be hard to impress her. Unless, you know, she's just really hard to impress.

"Are you gonna suspend me?" she asks, eyeing the ceiling as we enter my bedroom.

"Ha, I wish I were that good. No, just floor work."

Does that mean she would have let me suspend her though, if I had the right equipment and skill?

I enjoy the curious look on her face as she stands beside me and takes in her new environment. She walks over to my desk where all my drawing paper, pencils, and other stationary is. She slides a piece of paper towards herself to inspect closer, a sketch of an unfinished humanoid mantis. I see her expression change and think I can register that she is impressed. She picks it up, and I stand and come up beside her so I can admire her better.

"I really like your mantis person." She sounds genuinely impressed.

"Thanks," I say, feeling flattered.

She looks absorbed in the picture for a moment. I like how her delicate hands look holding my art. She lifts it closer with her right hand, nails painted a taupe-lilac colour, a thin, silver ring wrapped around the bottom knuckle.

"Cool..." she says under her breath, placing down the drawing.

I adore her care and fascination for my things. I've grown to love details. I'm more of a mind-dwelling person, so noticing details has been a skill I built up overtime with doing art. Once I got the hang of it, I realised how much depth can be found in them.

I want to be closer to those details. I don't just want to see them.

I reach up and rest my palm on her arm. Jolted out of a mild daze, she turns to look up at me. I glance at the origami dragonfly she made me that I'd placed carefully on my desk.

"Do you ever use paper of different colours? Just white and black?"

"Sometimes grey. I like that."

"Grey is not a colour."

She raises an eyebrow. "Debatable. Can you show me the ties now?"

I turn to my bed and lift the mattress and slats, revealing the large ottoman space in my bed. I only have 4 ropes, two black and two white, placed casually on top of my bedding. They've not been used on anything other than my own body.

I hear her beginning to take her jacket off as I unravel the ropes and place them onto the bed. Once I've finished, I turn and notice that apart from a tiny pair of underwear, Katiya is completely naked. I stand there, stunned for a moment at how she managed to undress in such a short space of time. I had only been a few moments, or so I thought.

Had I really been standing there for a few minutes, so deeply focused on the rope?

It would make sense for her to have undressed so quickly if she'd practically torn her clothes off and let them fly every which way, but I'm sure I'd have picked up on that commotion if that's what had happened. They're not neatly piled by any means, but they're definitely still intact and clearly some consideration has been taken for them to be placed together in a pile beside my bed, every article of clothing, down to the socks.

Besides the underwear, of course.

My eyes run down her body, stopping on her breasts, round and pretty with areolas the same faded cherry as her lips. My gaze descends further, following the outline of her waist and hips, her plump, underwear-clad mound, her smooth shapely legs, all the way down to her cute feet. I've already had a semi from the moment she stepped through the front door, but now my joggers are growing even tighter and there's no hiding the firm outline of my excited flesh. Sure, she's been attractive to me since the first picture of her I saw, but I can't remember feeling so uncontrollably turned on by someone like this. It feels almost primal.

There's something very different about today, the air is being influenced by something and I don't know what. I can't explain it beyond that, I just know it. And another thing I'm certain of is that this impression is somehow emitting from her.

She's teasing me by leaving her underwear on. My eyes wander back to her mound and I have to stop myself from staring as if I can shoot laser beams from my eyes to cut through the fabric and expose her.

I say nothing. I do nothing.

She steps closer.

I wait for Kat to get super close to me until I back away and seat myself onto the end of my bed. I register a hint of surprise in her face. Then, in one sudden movement, I reach over and pull her onto my lap. She gasps with a mix of surprise and delight, quick to straddle me, wrapping her thighs around me.

She's sitting on top of me, her arms around my neck. I can feel the heat of her on top of my solid member, which is more than eager to break a hole through the fabrics of my clothes. We begin to kiss. As my lips brush against the softness of hers, my hands explore the smooth skin of her hips and buttocks, pulling her body closer to me by her waist. I start to stroke the silky long strands of hair falling down her bare back, still pulling her as close into the kiss as possible. I want her badly, and I can feel it in her too. She slips her tongue into my mouth while moving back and forth down onto me, sending warm, sharp tingles through my cock. Her moans are honeyed and soft in my ear as she uses my lap to enjoy herself.

The only barriers between us are layers of fabric, and I feel like if we carry on like this, we could burn a hole through them. As we kiss, I begin to fumble with her underwear, but I feel her wriggling her hips away slightly each time I do. She's right, I've got to be patient, besides, I told her I would show her something, and I really do want to show her. I want to make this even better, more slow-paced and intense, rather than just going with my urges and behaving like some kind of wild animal.

I take her hips in my hands and lift her off me. Immediately taking the cue, she gets up.

"Don. I want to see your skills now."

"Sure," the corner of my mouth turns up and I tug at the waistband of her underwear, "but first, these have to go.

***

I step back and admire the display in front of me.

Katiya is lying on her back, completely naked. Her wrists are tied to the bedpost, knees drawn up and legs spread to reveal and allow me access to her pussy. I tied her thighs to her shins in a satisfying series of knots, not too bad for my first try on another person. Her eyes are gleaming with anticipation as she gazes up at me. She entertains us both by squirming and struggling slightly, a delightful reminder of how helpless she is. Watching her like that does nothing but intensify my wanting to take her.

"This feels good," she says.

"You look good," I respond.

Eyes still on her, I slip off my joggers and underwear, my cock springs up keenly as I slip the fabric down. I kick them off onto the floor beside my chest of drawers. I'm usually a fairly tidy person, but I have no intention to keep that up at the moment. I'm still wearing my prosthesis, I decided to keep it on for this as I want to be able to kneel and stand as I please.

I climb onto the bed and crawl towards her. As my head passes between her legs, I can smell her arousal, hot and sweet. I can't help but feel like her sex smells very unique somehow, it's like ambrosia or something. I come up so we are face-to-face and shudder as I feel my cock resting against her hot, slick cunt. Our fluids combine as pre-cum trickles out of me. I could just slip into her now, but I can't let myself. I want her to feel as good as possible, I want to dedicate myself to her pleasure. Of course, it's not like it won't feel fucking amazing for me too.

I know exactly how I'm going to start. There's no way I can just let that nectar between her legs go to waste by simply using it to pummel away inside her, ignoring the other sensory pleasures it has to offer.

I look into her excited eyes and kiss her forehead softly, then her nose, her cheek, her jaw, then I start working on her neck. I kiss the delicate skin, then glide my tongue along it, allowing the wetness to pass over it slowly, then sucking gently. She starts moaning softly again and I feel her legs tense. Her restrained arms struggle abruptly against the bedframe for a second, then she lets them fall again. I smile to myself and can't help but chuckle against her neck, realising she had been going to reach up and grab me. She can't—in her pleasure she almost forgot.

I work on the other side of her neck a little, then I work my way down her body, sucking, kissing, and licking her nipples tenderly, then her belly, and working my way down even lower. She is really squirming now, and her face is flush, she looks both frustrated and excited at the same time. I know what I'm doing to her, I know where she wants to feel my tongue, and that's exactly why I'm dragging it out so much.

"Don," she breathes, "please..."

I ignore her pleas, taking my time, enjoying every second of having her like this—every second of her yearning, every second of her frustration, every sensation her body gives mine as skin moves against skin.

I place a few kisses on her right inner thigh, all the way to her mound, slowly, relishing the feeling of the softness on my lips. Heart pounding in my chest, my head is finally level with the place between her thighs. God, I can smell her intoxicating aroma again, and I swear I can even feel the heat of her on my face, it's radiating from her. I hover my mouth over her clit, allowing her to feel my warm breath there. She lets out a moan that sounds filled with longing. Then, I go for it.

I start by kissing between her thighs. I kiss her there passionately, as if it's her mouth, causing her to sigh in delight. I feel her velvety softness on my lips, then my tongue, then I lick down to her slippery hole, getting her juices on my tongue. I taste them and it's like pussy, but... better. Honestly, I can't quite place what is different, only I know that now I've had that first taste there's something in me aroused that I didn't even know existed. If I felt dedicated to her pleasure before, now it's even more powerful. I feel dedicated to it and beyond. I work my tongue on her like she's a dessert I don't want to ever finish. At the risk of sounding cliché, I imagine this is the sort of feeling I'd get if I were dining in heaven. I've given head before, but these are still all new feelings.

Still, they feel so good.

"Don, yes... your mouth is SO warm..."

Her moans are beautiful, encouraging me to keep going, and I feel as if I know exactly the right spots to work on, bringing her increasingly closer to orgasm. I wanted to take my time on her, but I just can't. Her juices flow into my mouth and down my chin, and despite it being a bit of a challenge, I'm eager to lick up as much of it as I can.

"Don... you're gonna make me come!"

I can feel the build of her climax so close now as I lick and suck. I slip two fingers inside her and they glide in effortlessly, her flesh welcomes me. I find that sweet spot in there and work on it, the responses of her body letting me know I'm hitting it just right. With my warm mouth enveloping her and fingers inside her, she starts coming. Her hips jolt against my mouth and her bound legs twitch as she comes, gasping and moaning with pleasure and clenching around my fingers. Reaching up with my free hand, I squeeze her breast, causing her back to immediately arch and her to cry out a final "yes!" in response.

I come up and lick off the nectar I'd smeared onto her nipples from my last move. They feel like flesh-bullets on my tongue. She looks as me as though she's somehow looking through me and into another world.

"Let me taste myself," she says.

I kiss her passionately, our tongues intertwine.

She squirms her hips, trying to get me inside her. My cock is dripping and ready.

I spread her labia, soft butterfly wings, and experimentally rub the tip of my cock over her entrance. I push in a little and can't help but moan at the sensation of her wet, warm pussy, still tightening and pulsing from her orgasm. Feeling utterly compelled, I thrust in completely, and she gasps. I draw back and thrust again, continuing like this, hard, grunting as her hole clenches around me. Each time I drive into her it feels as if I'm being gently sucked into her body by this fluttering fleshy embrace; I could honestly cry from how good this feels.