Ch 6 A Veritable Free-For-All
It turns out, the departure of Jess from his life, does wonders for me. Now, we have so much more freedom, so much more time. Now that I've given in, I'm
all
in. We are fucking like animals every chance that we get. I'm fucking him and he's fucking me. I wake every morning with a single, dominating thought:
When will I see him?
Everything else in my life fades into the background. It's not that I neglect Liza, it's just that she's so busy with work, and she's so independent, she doesn't really need me. Definitely not the way he needs me. He needs me a lot. He needs me, the same way I need him.
It's just that now, his body, truly is all I think about. I want it. I crave it. Even more than I did before. Now, when I've had him, or he's had me, I'm completely and utterly spent. Now, on days when I've seen him, I sleep. A dead, dreamless sleep.
I have no way of knowing that in a short while, I'll find it hard to believe these days ever existed. No, right now, a small, idiotic part of me, believes these glory days won't ever end.
In this spirit, I head over to his house. It's a Sunday morning, we were planning on going for a run, but when he opens the door, I see immediately that there's been a big change in plan. He swings the door open, leaning one arm up against the door frame. His hair is unruly. Perfectly unkempt. He's shirtless and he's wearing grey sweatpants, which ride low on his hips, clearly exposing that V that runs all the way down...
I draw a sharp breath.
Bloody hell, that's some 'Hello'.
"Kip and Ben are out." He says, by way of a greeting.
I raise a brow. "Is that a fact?" I say slowly, eyeing him up and down.
"Still want to go for that run?" He asks.
I'm already half-way in through the door, "Fuck, no."
We get to his room. We've been here before, but not often. We're usually at my place. It feels a little strange to be here, especially in broad daylight. Something about him feels a little strange, too. There's a look on his face that I don't know, one I'm not sure if I've seen before. He's watching me. Not pouncing right away, like he normally would. He's been teasing me for a few days. Using threatening words and inuendo. I know it's his turn to make a move, so I wait for it.
Despite the tension, I wait.
I'm standing in the middle of his room, near the bed. He paces slowly around me. He's eyeing me up and down, looking at me like I'm meat.
Wait for it
, I tell myself, but it's getting harder. I'm getting harder.
"Want to play?" He says at last.
"Fuck, yeah." I say quickly.
He turns to his dresser, opening the bottom drawer, getting something out. I feel my eyes widen when I see what's in his hand.
"I mean, do you want to
play
?" He says softly, tossing a couple of bundled lengths of rope on the bed.
My stomach contracts and my heart starts to pound. I don't move a muscle as he takes out a black, leather flogger and tosses it on the bed along with the rope.
He looks at me intently. Waiting.
"Yes." I say, looking him right in the eye, not thinking it through for a second.
Maybe's it's the fact that I know from Liza, he used to do this with Jess, and God knows, I'm fiercely competitive. I don't want there to be anything he wants, that he doesn't get from me.
I
want to be the best
he's
ever had. Or, maybe it's the fact that if you delve down deep enough, you'll find this exact type of thing, hidden in my sordid, browser history. Probably though, it's simply the fact that he's the one offering, and when it comes to him, it's already been well established...
I want it.
"Take off your sweater." He says, his voice soft, yet strangely compelling. I obey at once.
"Those too." He says, motioning to my waist. I pull down my pants, as quickly as I can, kicking off my running shoes and stepping out of them, standing there in nothing but my boxers now.
"You done this before?" He asks. He knows the answer, but I shake my head anyway.
No
.
"Okay," he says, chuckling a little, "I'll go easy on you."
His words instantly remind me of the first time he fucked me, that, "I'll be gentle," he said, that damned nearly undid me. These words do exactly the same thing. Thick, hot desire wakes and raises its head, deep inside me.
He runs the palms of his hands up my torso, up my sides, down my arms, warming me, setting me alight, as he starts to tie.
He winds the rope around me quickly and with considerable skill. I can't lie, the fact that he knows what he's doing, is proving to be a very big turn-on. He works the rope around the top of each of my thighs, across my back and my chest, forming a harness of sorts. I stand still, completely motionless, as he does it. Enjoying the tension, the slight sting, as he pulls the rope tight. Enjoying the sensation, of his hands on my skin, as he guides the rope into place. But mostly, I'm surprised to find, I enjoy the feeling of being completely, securely, contained.
Finally, he pulls my wrists back, behind my back, making me bend my elbows and grab my forearm in each hand, before securing me like this.
He shows me a strange pair of scissors, "If you don't like it, you can tell me," he murmurs, "I'll have you out in a minute."
I nod, but I already know, he won't be using those scissors today.
Next, he shows me a blindfold, waiting until I nod, before pulling it on, over my eyes. This is no pretend blindfold. Once it's on, the light's gone completely. Darkness descends, and I find myself in pitch blackness.
My breathing has slowed, though my heart rate is steadily rising. He's not moving, or touching me, but I can feel him to my right.
He grabs my arm suddenly and spins me a little, forcing me to take a few tentative steps in a circle, as I try to right myself.
He waits.
Then, he reaches for me again, spinning me harder this time, once, twice, I quickly loose count. Now, when I steady myself, I'm dizzy, I don't know where the bed is and I'm not sure where he is either.
I don't hear him moving, but he must, because I'm suddenly aware of the first strains of music, playing softly at first, but getting louder quickly. I don't know this song. It has a heavy beat, a strong base. A long introduction, and then a woman's voice. Haunting and mournful.
The sound goes right through me, my heart echoing the beat, as I wait.
I wait.
The tension is getting unbearable. I need him to touch me. I need him to ground me. I need to know where he is.
Fear grips my heart, as I hear the unmistakable
swish
