ARCHIVE: untitled-dbang.Z
~From: jfriday@ada.stat.uga.edu (Paul Stacy)
~Newsgroups: alt.sex,alt.sex.bondage
~Subject: ARCHIVE:  Story by Dbang (Untitled)

:titleis{Dbang Untitled 1}

   The room is warm, almost too warm.  I am slightly damp from
perspiration, and the occasional draft makes me shiver.

   The room is filled with a warm, diffuse light, sunlight through
heavy lace curtains, giving the place an antique feel.  The air
smells of potpourri, mingled with red wine and musk.

   My eyes travel lazily along the ceiling, until they reach the
far wall, where a full-length mirror stands across from the foot of
the bed, tilted slightly forward in its heavy oak frame.  The image
staring back at me from the mirror commands my attention: a
exquisite brass four-poster bed, and on it a beautiful woman,
naked, her arms stretched tautly over her head, and her legs
reaching out toward the posts at the foot of the bed.

   That's me, with my wrists bound together by that long purple
band of silk.  That's me, chest rising and falling more quickly
than usual below tight, shiny skin.  That's me, lying there on the
new beautiful bed we shopped for for so long, and bought just for
this purpose.  That's me...finally.

   Absorbed as I am in the image of myself, Robert's voice startles
me.  "You certainly are a beautiful sight, love."  I turn my
attention to him, as he stands by the side of the bed, a glass of
wine in his hand, smiling warmly down at me.

   "Robert, kiss me..." I start to say, but he leans over me, and
presses his finger to my lips, and says "Shhhh.  Not a sound." But
he kisses me anyway, lightly, gently, on the lips.  He takes a sip
of the wine he is holding, then dips his finger into the glass. 
With his wet finger, he traces my lips, then bends over and licks
the wine from my lips.  His feather-light touch makes me shiver.

   He continues with the wine, drawing his finger from behind my
ear to the hollow of my throat, then following with his tongue.  He
traces a line down between my breasts; the evaporating alcohol is
cold for a moment, but his tongue is warm and soft.  Mmmmmmm.  I
was unaware that I had actually made a sound, but Robert warns me
again, "Silence..."  And so I am silent, eager to please my lover
and to make this moment perfect for both of us.

   A drop of wine on the left nipple, which hardens instantly,
before he licks it off with a mere brush of his tongue.  And then
the same to the right nipple.  His light, fleeting touch has
awakened my sensitive nipples, and they cry out for more.  I arch
my back toward his mouth, but he has already moved on to other
places.

   A drop of wine on the soft underside of my arm.  A almost-tick-
ling lick along my navel.  A wet trail along the crease where my
thigh meets my body.  Each touch a brief spark that awakens and
arouses a new part of my body, just enough to tease but not enough
to satisfy.

   He licks a trail of red off of my inner thigh, and I can't con-
tain my gasp.  My whole body feels alive, itching for his touch. I
want him to lick up, up, to move his tongue between my legs, but
he's gone again, standing next to the bed, watching my flushed form
on the bed.  I look up at him, pleading with my eyes, Robert,
Robert, touch me...

   "How can I resist those eyes?" he asks, with mock mournfulness.
"You don't really want me to finish yet, do you?"  My body cries
yes, but at the same time I savor the delicious frustration, and I
know the answer.  The question is rhetorical.  Robert goes to the
dresser by the bed, and returns with another broad band of soft
purple silk, like the ones that bind my wrists and ankles. This one
he drapes across my eyes, then lifts my head and ties it expertly
in place.

   The removal of vision heightens my other senses.  I become aware
of the sound of cars in the distance, and the wind in the tree
outside the window.  I become aware of the smell of Robert and the
smell of me.  I smile and relax, delighting in hypersensitiv- ity
of my body and the feeling of anticipation.

   I am not disappointed.  Robert starts touching me again, return-
ing to the top of my body.  He strokes my face with his fingers,
and his touch is firmer now, more demanding, more satisfying.  He
holds my hair, grasping it.  Holding my head firmly, he kisses me
on the lips, deeply this time; no more fleeting touches, this time
his kiss is filled with passion, and I meet it with my own.

   He breaks the kiss too soon, and leaves me gasping for air.  Now
he is rubbing my body with smooth, firm strokes.  He rubs my
shoulders, my arms, my sides, my belly.  He rubs my breasts, and
this time when I arch toward him, he doesn't pull away.  Instead,
he holds them, kneads them.  He grasps my nipples between his
fingers, first lightly, but with increasing pressure.  A moan
escapes my parted lips, but Robert doesn't seem to mind; instead of
a warning, he pinches my nipples firmly and tugs, and I am suddenly
dizzy from the pleasure.

   Forgetting my situation, I reach up to wrap my arms around him,
but the strip of silk holds my hands tightly to the bar between the
posts at the head of the bed.  Straining against the bonds
accentuates my frustration and longing, and I moan again.

   Robert continues pulling on my nipples, till they reach a point
just short of pain, and my back is arched as far up as it will go. 
Once again, he breaks his hold too quickly, but before I have a
chance to feel disappointed, he replaces his fingers with his mouth
on my left nipple, sucking it in, pressing it between his tongue
and teeth, rolling it around with his tongue.

   My breath is quick and ragged now, as I strain towards him.  He
grabs both breasts in his hands, and shifts his mouth to the other
nipple.  Oooooh.  It feel so good.  And then he stops.

   He pauses, just long enough for the frustration to register on
my face, and then he resumes his broad hand strokes on my belly,
and sliding down to my thighs.  He draws his hands down the outside
of my legs, to my feet.  He rubs each foot with his palms, with
just enough firmness to avoid tickling me.  He rubs each toe with
his thumb and draws his fingers along my instep.  Then he moves his
hands back up my legs, on the inside this time.  His broad, smooth
hands stop inches before where my thighs meet.

   No, don't stop, Robert...keep going...up, up, please.  But I
don't have to say anything.  He knows how badly I want him to touch
me there, but instead he massages my thighs.  Each stroke brings
him a hairbreadth closer to my nether lips.  I strain against the
bands on my ankles, but they hold my legs apart, making me feel
exposed and ready for his touch.

   He strokes gently the line where my outer labia meet my thighs.
The touch is light and agonizing.  And now he leans forward, and I
can feel his warm breath against my clit, stirring the wispy hair
there.  He blows against me, and the coolness against the moisture
there makes me jump.  I arch toward him, but he still doesn't touch
me inside; he just keeps maddeningly stroking my outer lips.

   He stops.  Just as I am about to start begging him to touch me,
he brushes my exposed clit with another one of his quick, fleet-
ing touches.  The touch is an electric shock through my body.  It
is gone in an instant, but every muscle in my body tenses in that
instant, straining for his touch.  After a moment, my breath
returns and my muscles start to relax, and he touches again,
briefly, sending new waves of pleasure through my taut body.  Oh
God, how much more of this can I stand?  Please, please, keep
going, don't stop, Oh God, don't stop...

   He stops.  Again I start to relax, and this time I feel his
tongue, pushing its way between my folds.  Carefully avoiding my
clit, he licks around the foreskin.  He gently sucks my labia into
his mouth, rubbing his tongue along the underside.  Then the other. 
Then around the clit again.  Then a quick flick of his tongue
across the tip.  I gasp, realizing that I have been hold- ing my
breath.  Again, the same electricity courses through my body. 
Another moan.

   After some more teasing, Robert licks my clit again, this time
firmly.  He draws his tongue in circles around the head, and then
sucks it into his mouth, pressing it between his teeth and tongue. 
Yes, yes!  Holding my clit between his lips, he flicks it with
increasing tempo with his tongue.  Then he sucks again, and for a
timeless moment I am held on the brink, as a washing, tingling
pleasure starts to spread from between my legs up my back.

   He stops.  The tingling recedes.  No, no, don't stop!  He
lightly pinches my thighs, and I realize that this time I've
actually spoken.  I continue to plead with him, Robert, Robert,
don't hold me here, touch me, touch me...I can't see his face with
my make- shift blindfold on, but I know he is smiling.  That's what
he was waiting for.

   With that, he slips a finger inside me, and I start thrusting
eagerly against his hand.  His thumb rubs my clit, lightly but with
increasing pressure, as the rate of my thrusting increases. He
slips another finger in, and starts his own thrusting, faster and
faster, pressing against my clit, rubbing it, teasing it.  I feel
the tingling sensation start again.  Please, Robert, let it
happen...and he keeps thrusting.  Suddenly my whole body is awash
with pleasure.  I see white light behind my eyelids, and every
muscle in my body convulses.  My legs strain against the soft re-
straints but I have no awareness of being tied down.  For a brief,
timeless moment I am floating, my entire being centered around
Robert's thrusting hand.

   And before I land, before my convulsions subside, Robert is on
me, and in me.  He thrusts with such ferocity, such passion, that
he keeps me floating.  Unbelievably, the pleasure intensifies. The
entire world consists of me and Robert, pounding, thrusting, crying
out in pleasure, floating.  I think I scream, but I'm not sure. 
The aching, insistent pleasure lasts forever, and I hear Robert's
own growling gasps as he joins me on my exquisite plane of
pleasure.  Yes, Robert, Robert, I love you!

   Slowly the pleasure subsides, the convulsions become less
intense and further apart.  My body relaxes and I become aware of
Robert's weight lying heavily on top of me, of the ties that still
bind my wrists and ankles.  Without getting off me, Robert slips
the blindfold off over my head.  As I knew it would be, his own
faced is flushed, his hair in disarray.  Still staying in me, he
reaches up and unties the strip of cloth that holds my wrists
together, and I bring them down and wrap my arms tightly around
him.

   For a long time we stay that way, my lover's weight against my
body, my arms holding him close.  For a long time we lay in our
beautiful new bed, recovering from its first use.  Hopefully the
first of many.