*ring*
*ring*
I blink groggily, trying to figure out what's happening. Why I'm awake. Then I realise -- phone. The phone is ringing. I reach over to the nightstand and grope blindly to find it and make the noise stop.
"Hello?"
"She's ready. Come now. Oh, and...bring rope."
Even through the muzziness of sleep, I recognise your voice. And more than that, I hear the raw desire in it. Suddenly, I'm much more awake. Reaching for my glasses, I open my mouth to speak, but you've already hung up.
I slide out of bed. As long as I've been waiting for this day, I want to take the utmost care with my appearance, but the thought of your command drives me to move faster. I shimmy into a red lace thong and matching bra, following them with a white button-up blouse, jeans and socks. Luckily, my hair is supposed to look like I just rolled out of bed, so it'll do. After a quick glance in the mirror, I slip into my leather motorcycle jacket and boots. Finally, I grab my black leather bag from the closet and head out the door.
I'm down the stairs, through the back door and out towards the car before I'm even entirely aware of what I'm doing. I laugh breathlessly to myself as I stop to pull out my keys and realise I was running. You're not the only one who's hungry for this...
Taking a deep breath to try to pull myself together, I climb into the car and start the engine. Immediately the strains of jazz fill the car as my Ella Fitzgerald CD starts to play. I shake my head...no, not right. I slam the eject button and grab the CD. Flipping through the CD case, Ministry calls out to me -- much better. I pull out of the garage.
My driving is fast, a bit reckless - not surprising, given my mindset and how I drive normally. As I pull onto the freeway, I crank the volume even higher. The rumbling of the bass vibrates in my seat, fueling my arousal further, creating an almost primal sense of urgency. I revel in the anticipation and the torture I'm inflicting upon myself. A small moan catches in the back of my throat, trying to break free. I can almost taste how much I need you. Every slight movement causes me to feel the friction of the lace across my hardening nipples, and along my upper thighs. I may be imagining it, but I think I can even catch a hint of the scent of my arousal in the suddenly close air of the car.
I'm starting to feel dangerously at the mercy of my body (not to mention other drivers) by the time I finally pull into your parking lot. When I open my door, the cool night air hits me like a wall, clearing my head a bit. My desire is still there, but luckily I feel a bit more control over it, like banked coals smouldering in a firepit.
Shaking my head, I walk towards the door. I enter the front lobby of your building and go to punch in your buzzer code. My hand stretches out, then pauses in midair. I'm suddenly hesitant. What will happen when you answer? Will we stand awkwardly inside the door, trying to make small talk? Everyone just dancing around the subject, not sure where to begin.... I wince at the thought of it. What can I say that won't feel odd, or forced?
I drop my shaking hand as I realise a potential way out of the situation. Now, if only I'm lucky... I walk around to the back of your building, glad for my dark clothing. I reach what I think is your balcony door, and take a peek. Yes, dark blue drapes, and through a gap I see your favourite painting up on the wall. There doesn't seem to be anyone in the living room, and there's a light on in the bedroom. So far, so good. I reach out, my hand shaking a bit with nervousness. Do I dare try this? I take a deep breath, and reach out for the handle, pulling very slightly. My heart jumps at the faint hiss of the door opening. Quickly, before I can think too hard about what I'm doing, I slide it open further. I carefully peek in and still see no sign of anyone in the living room or kitchen. Trembling slightly from nerves and the effort of being silent, I step through and shut the door behind me.
I hear the low murmur of voices coming from the bedroom. Perfect! Shouldering my bag, I pull off my boots. Okay -- no turning back. I take a couple of deep breaths to brace myself, and carefully inch towards your bedroom door. A rush of adrenaline begins to overtake me, bringing back the full wave of arousal from moments ago. I shudder as I feel heat flushing my face, coiling in my stomach, coursing between my thighs...
After a moment that seems to stretch longer than should be possible, I reach the doorway and peer around the corner.
"Ohhh..." Something between a word and a moan vibrates at the back of my throat, barely making a sound. My breath catches and I forget everything as I absorb the sight in front of me. Liane is sitting on the edge of the bed, head thrown back and her dark hair spilling over her shoulders. The long, slender line of her neck leads my gaze downwards to the curve of her breasts, but my view is partially blocked. You are kneeling before her, candlelight giving your blond hair a soft golden glow. As I watch, you wind one hand through her hair and pull, arching her back further. With your tongue you trace a line down her throat, between her breasts, and down her taut stomach. You brush the top of her sex and she lets out a soft moan, which turns into a whimper of frustration as you back away slightly. Straightening up, you take one of her nipples in your mouth as your nails lightly score her back. She leans forward to look at you, which puts me directly in her line of sight! Our eyes lock, and she lets out a small gasp of surprise. Coming back to myself, I put my finger to my lips and wink, then duck back into the hall.
I start to shake again -- will she be scared? Angry? Or play along? I wait breathlessly, but no one emerges. The small sounds of pleasure I hear from the room eventually encourage me to look back inside.
I grin widely. You're on your back on the bed, angled so that even if you sat up you'd be facing away from me. Liane is straddling your hips, leaning over to remove your shirt. She sits up slightly to toss the shirt aside and meets my gaze again. I see some nervousness there, but also determination and a bit of amusement. I grin encouragingly, and after a brief hesitation she shyly smiles back and bends back down to her task.
At this point I remember the bag on my shoulder. I slowly set it down just inside the door, and kneel next to it. Working silently, I remove a straight length of rope and a second, much shorter one. I coil the short one into a loop only a few inches wide and a few turns thick, then tie the ends together. Smiling in satisfaction, I begin to crawl towards the bed. It's the work of another moment to fasten one end of the longer rope to one of the bed posts. Finally, I'm ready. I catch Liane's eyes and put the short coil over my wrists, then point to yours. Her eyes widen, then she nods minutely. She runs her nails lightly from your hips up your sides, and then up your arms, stretching them over your head. Oh, she catches on quickly! I grin again, and she leans forward, her weight on your arms, to kiss you. I spring forward and throw the loop around your wrists. Taking the other rope, I loop it between your hands twice, effectively making cuffs out of the rope, and then bring it back down to the bed post to tie it off.