She knows I’ve got something in mind, from the wicked glint in my eye. I grin as I settle the bag on my shoulder.
Silently we drift through the trees – like poetry of midnight air, animals leaving their tracks, we are ghosts.
There – it’s perfect. The tree is just right.
I put my hand on her shoulder and point. She sees, and turns her head slightly – soft aching curve of her face framed by the raven’s wing of hair that falls across it, and that knowing smile that drives me wild on her lips and eyes.
I draw out the first bundle of rope from my bag, slowly, letting her hear the fibres rasp against the edge of the canvas bag.
The rope uncoils and falls to my feet. I pull her back against me, roughly, lovingly. She gasps, and struggles, just long enough for me to tighten my grip, then softens in my arms as I draw the first wrap of rope around her chest. Spinning her round, our eyes connect and I swear I hear and FEEL a sharp crack, like the moment the kindling finally catches, flames beginning their lambent dance around us. I push her back against the tree, body molded to hers. The warmth and the shape of her fill me, the heat of her firm breasts pressed into my chest, soft flesh of her belly and that elegant sweep of her flank pressed against my thigh.
I put my lips to hers’ and we drink deeply, hungrily.
I push her arms down to her sides, reach behind the tree and drag the rope slowly around – slow enough for her to feel the individual ridges of the weave as her slowly indrawn breath hisses through her teeth, a counterpoint to the fibres rasping across her skin like a bow slowly scraping strings, the bark of the tree adding its own ragged edge of urgency to this prelude – this chord that’s being played across you, resonating in me.
Bound to the tree – to the earth – to me – her eyes meet mine again, aflame with need. Closes them slowly. Tilts her head – soft skin exposed on her neck, pulsing, quickening. My heart joins her steadily building rhythm, synchronized, pace growing till we’re racing in unison. Leaning down slowly, my breath tickles her skin like a promise shivering at the growing heat at the base of her neck. My hands tighten around the rope – pulling it hard –
biting hard at the sweet exposed flesh, the smell of her fills me and I could tear her throat out with the deepening, wild lust that is drowning me as the bonds tighten around her, grinding her body into the rough bark of the tree. She moans, long and languid, liquid and burning, it runs down my throat and burns in my belly.
I pull the rope taut, and wrap it round my wrist, take the end in my mouth. She bites down hard on the other end as I offer it to her – it carries our desire – our shared sacrament, our communion.
Knife flashes out, swift stroke slices through her dress, two halves held together with the rope around her waist like a make-shift kimono. I tear them apart and bare her nakedness to the night – her soft skin shimmering, breasts shivering under the silver moon. Her breath – my pulse – quickens.
Now that she’s exposed, tied, vulnerable, I slow down – breathe deep – reach into the infinity of the spaces between to draw this moment out. Time stretches out – sticky sap dripping down, slow and languid. I trickle my fingers down her neck, barely touching her flesh, stroking her from her collarbone to pelvis… feathery touches down that soft, inviting tender flesh to the left of her sex as she twists, sinuously, snakelike, arching her back, parting her legs. Her scent, warm honey and spice wafts up and I nearly bury my face in her, skating the thin edge of resistance and desire – I’m dividing myself through motion. I bring my face close to her glistening lips, closer… breathing in… like air… like the ocean I’m drowning in… care – conscious thought – being subverted, subjugated – mastery hanging on with fingertips, laughing as we’re suspended over the abyss. I blow gently on her, watching her spin like a leaf in the wind and she makes an urgent whine in the back of her throat….
She is slick and wet – I slowly lick up each honeyed trail between her legs as she sobs and writhes, twisting against her ropes until I can no longer hold myself back. With a snarl I plunge my tongue deep into her, and she’s bucking into me, her sweet taste is every bit as intoxicating as I knew it would be, and I lap, flicking, licking, sucking, alternatively caressing, slapping and clawing at her inner thighs, red marks and two fine red lines where my nails have pierced her flesh, delicate ruby droplets forming – keeping her on the edge while I drink my fill while the delicious sounds she makes fill my ears. I pull back to allow my sight to feed – glorious as she pants above me, breasts heaving, body shaking, staring down at me, begging with her eyes.
I stand and slowly remove my clothes, drunk with the beauty of her – and like a drunk, wanting to drink from the bottle greedily, but holding back, taking my time, savouring the growing, desperate need in her – a mirror of my own.
Completely naked, cool night air raising goosebumps on my skin, I’m so hard and so far gone – the urge to take her is primal, murderous. I throw myself onto her, grinding her into the tree. The sensation is exquisite, contrast of hot, soft flesh, chill night air and rough rope, taut and shivering.
I want to howl, and so I do – her urgent wail winds around mine in a rising couterpoint as I roughly enter her with two fingers, wetness, warmth, closeness, drawing me further along the wayward path with the rope in one hand and her hair tangled in the other – I’m grabbing and pulling fiercely as she weeps and laughs and cries and moans
Licking the tears from her face,
Biting at her neck
Rubbing the rope into them, across her hard nipples as she screams back,
We are the deer in the headlights and the oncoming car, and the collision
I grab her ankles and pull her legs up and apart.
plunge deep into her as her eyes widen
Slick with sweat with lust with urgency musk and sharp tang blending into a bouquet of scents whole greater than the sum of all the parts filling us driving us fucking crazy clawing scarlet letters scratched in skin in rough rope wrapped round throats tangling hair pulling hard silken cord writhes flows drowns sweet slick pounding delirious burning oh god her smell her skin our fucking ragged sounds escaping haunted vessels tearing themselves apart in the climax
drains sweetly out of rope
as we fall into each other
- March Update – So much to tell!
- FINISHING SCHOOL FOR EXTREMELY NAUGHTY GIRLS AND BOYS – The Adventures of Anne – Part 3 – The Examination concludes
- The Art of Shibari – Blog published at Many Vids
- Finishing School for Extremely Naughty Girls and Boys – The Adventures of Anne – Part 2 – A Visit to the Nurse
- Finishing School for Extremely Naughty Girls and Boys – The Adventures of Anne – Part 1 – Anne’s Lesson
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