I was sitting on the couch next to you. I was reading; you were working out a Sudoku puzzle. A regular relaxing Tuesday night.
"Honey," you ask, "Can you grab my other puzzle book, please?"
I grumble internally. "Where is it?"
"It's on the floor next to your end of the couch. It's right there."
Frowning a little to myself at the disturbance, I put down what I was reading. I pivot in my seat and peered over the fat arm of the couch. "I don't see it," I complain, casually looking down.
"It's there baby," you tell me.
"Mmm." So, I turn more, reach my arms out toward the floor and rest my chest on the cushy couch arm. There is a pile of random things lying on the floor in a low basket: a newspaper, some books. I don't see the puzzle book. "It's not here, baby."
You slip up behind me -- I feel your hands on my back and one of my legs. "Look under the newspaper." I flip over the newspaper and see...
Well, it's not Sudoku book. It's not a book at all. The gears in my head slowly grind forward into action and I realize what I was looking at.
"Put the cuffs on." You've snuggled up tight behind me now. They were hand cuffs, connected to a leather strap. As I pick them up, I see the strap is on a short leash to the couch itself.
"Why don't I put them on you?" I said next with a growing smile.
"No." Your weight shifts suddenly onto my back, heavy. "I said put them on." You're sitting over my lower back, legs on either side of my body. Since my chest is on the couch arm and my legs straightened behind me across the couch, my back is being bent too much the wrong way. "I said," you tell me again, this time emphasizing your point by putting even more weight on my back, "put them on. ... Now."
I start to turn my head and say something smart.
"Ow!" I shout. "Dang it!" You've grabbed my hair with one hand and are holding my neck with the other.
"Alright! Okay." So, I reach down and pick up the handcuffs. I lock the first on one wrist, a cold touch to my hand. The metal teeth click by as it locks in place. I feel your weight come off my back a little and the strain across my neck release. With my now-secured hand, I just pick up the other cuff, not in a rush to lock myself down.
Sensing my hestitation, you lean down so your breath is near my ear. I place the second cuff around my other wrist, not quite closing the lock. "Fucking do it already" you whipser quiety in my ear, while you put your small hand around my neck.
I click the teeth into place and look at the strap running from the cuffs under the couch. I pull my wrists up and find them tied shortly to the ground. I won't even be able to flip over and can move only a little.
"Good boy" you tell me as you climb off me and off the couch. Your hand tossled my hair condesendingly. "Took you long enough," said over your shoulder as you walk right out of the room.
"Hey!" I holler. "Where are you going?" a little exasperated. I hear your soft footsteps retreat across the house and start to regret my perdicament. But shortly, thankfully, I hear approaching footfalls again, but this time with a click and a tap. You come back into the room wearing sleek black high-heels, silky black panties and a small black wife-beater. In your hand is a large fleshy-dildo on a leather strap-on and a bottle of lube.
"Oh my God." My cock swelled underneath me.
"First things first," you say almost to yourself, looking down at me, prostrate and now submissively tied. My hands are cuffed so all I could hope to reach are your ankles. I reached my fingers out to them, but you step your feet farther apart, beyond my reach.
You slip your fingers into my hair and guide my head upwards. Without a word, you step forward, and I see your sweet panty-covered pussy moving to my face. My nose presses against your mound and my tongue slips out of my mouth and between your legs. "Good boy."
You step back from me, far enough so I can see your legs and up to your stomach. I'm tied down too much to look higher comfortably. Excitedly, I watched your fingers slip beneath the band of your panties and slowly peel them off your hips and down your legs. My mouth waters. You lean down and pull your panties over your beautiful sexy heeled feet. While bent down, you are about eye level (still a little above me).
You look into my eyes. "We're going to start by you eating me." You stand up, out of my view, and step forward -- bringing your hips back to my face. "Then I'm going to fuck you."
Before I respond (besides my cock swelling a little more) your pussy reachs my mouth. Dutifully, I press my face forward and taste your juicy lips. Your own mouth opens a little at the pleasure. "Mmmm hmmm." You step your legs apart a bit to give me more room.
My tongue parts your lips, and I stretch to touch as much of you as I can, but my neck is restricted too much. But you don't stop pulling my head to you, pressing your hips up.
--
Finally, you pull back. Your smooth thighs slide back across my face. My neck is strained and tired, and I drop my head down. You click your heels once deliberately, and I look up again as far as I can, as you put your hands on your hips. Slowly, you squat down and look me in the eyes again. "Time for what I came here for" you say to me, and I see you reach over and grab the strap-on. You place it artificially over your crotch, between your taut bent legs. "You ready for this?"
You wait for my answer. "I don't know," I reply. Your head cocks to the side and you give me a look. "I mean," I stammer, "Yes, I think I'm ready." But I'm not really so sure. I watch as you stand up, and step into the straps of the harness.
You look at me. "You know, you'll be begging me for me to fuck you in just a few minutes."
You stand right in front of me as you tighten it to your hips. Then you open the bottle of lube and pour a liberal amount onto your hand, and slather the rubbery cock. When you finish, you step back a bit and smile to yourself. "Damn. I'm so wet." Your fingers slide under the harness and touch your lips. Moist.
Then you step past me, out of my vision. The couch depresses next to me and you kneel behind me. I look over my shoulder as you balance yourself by leaning on me. The strap-on dangles lewdly off your front.
