The call of a loon wakes me and I look out of the French doors of our cabin to the mist covered lake. You move your head on my shoulder, almost awake then slumber pulls you back as you tighten your warm naked body against mine.
I get out of bed to go to the bathroom and stop to stand here and look at he thick white mist that spreads over the lake and up into the black and green woods; it is a beautiful and wondrous act of nature. But you steal my attention as you lay there asleep in our bed, in our trust, in your absolute beauty, and I have no choice but to rejoin you in that chrysalis of clean sheets and pure pleasure.
Last night, here in this bed, the sky was dark and moonless but the stars cascaded their light and danced across the sky. The room had a soft yellow glow from the two candles in the sconces above the bed as I waited for you wearing only cotton boxer shorts.
You entered the room in a beautiful black negligee that was tied at your breasts but opened as you walked revealing your black thong and black silk stockings that came all the way up your thighs and stayed close to your covered pussy.
I wanted to come across the room to you but I could not since you had tied me, spread eagle, to the bedposts by silk scarves and my head half propped up on the bed with pillows.
Instead of circling the room or torturing me by making me wait, you cam straight to me, like a cat...no...like a black panther... straddled my body on the bed and kissed me deeply and long as if you were sucking my soul out of me and replacing it with yours. Then you kissed my face, head, and neck before your butterfly lips caressed, explored and devoured my tightening and burning flesh.
As you worked your way down my torso, pressing and moving your clothed body against mine, you paused and bit my hard nipples sending jolts of pleasure and pain through out my body. I begged you to slide my shorts off but you only laughed and rubbed my hard cock through the fabric, kissing me and sucking my semen through the cotton barrier. The frustration of being felt but not touched only added to my desire, my sexual urge to fuck and be fucked by you.
When you stood on your knees, straddling my hips, I was amazed to see a knife in your hand. Its long sharp blade glinted etchings on the side and I could tell from the elegance and the workmanship that the edge was very sharp. You waved the blade around my face and I could hear the air molecules being sliced in two and I could do nothing by watch and trust.
And I trusted you completely, even when you placed the razor edge of the blade on my chest and shaved away some of my chest hair (about the size of a quarter) but it took my breath away as I lay there helplessly as you pointed the sharp point at your own breast. You slid the knife inside your negligee and sliced the tie that held your garment closed. The black gossamer nightgown fell open exposing your beautiful breasts, your nipples hard and extended. You stood on your knees and used the knife to cut through the chords of your thong and, in an instant you were naked except for the black hose. Your smooth skin emitting your sexual desire from each pour, your whole body begging to be held, pillaged, desired, fucked, but I was tied to the bed and entirely at your mercy.
You threw your body on top of mine, feeling my skin with your skin as you place the knife of the nightstand. I wanted to hold you, to pull you closer to me and explore your skin but I could only make the bedposts creak. The muscles in my arms tightened from the strain and you ran your fingers up and across my biceps.
Just as you had kissed my face and body earlier, you started again but this time you kissed me with your pussy lips, you even French kissed me with your clit. My neck, chest nipples, shoulder were all bathed in your juices and you backed your way down my body.
