I lay on the floor spread-eagle.  I was naked and blindfolded.  I wasn’t afraid–I was exhilarated.  I asked him to do it.  He reluctantly complied.  It was both our first times.

My ankles were fastened to legs on the bed and table opposite it by his neckties.  They were my favorite ties that he wore when he took me out for fancy dinners.  I think he meant to do that–remind that I was his prize, his gift.

My wrists were also tied together with a tie above my head.  He asked me tentatively, “Are you ready?”  I breathed, “Yes,” wiggling in my restraints in anticipation.  My heart was pounding in my ears–I couldn’t hear anything else but myself, my heart, my blood coursing through my veins.

I felt something brush lightly over my breasts.  A feather?  Yes, that’s what it was.  Then the smooth back of something that I didn’t recognize as a brush until its bristles were gently stroking my thighs.  He was silent.  I didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling at that moment.  I writhed with tingles all through my body with the sensation of strokes from the brush bristles.

I saw a shadow passing across my blindfold.  He was standing over me in the light above me, his eyes lingering over his favorite parts of my nakedness.  He spoke:  “You’re beautiful.”  He was breathless too.  His voice thrilled me to my core.

A confident hand, a piano player’s hand with delicate, languid fingers cupped my breast with authority.  Then he squeezed and I felt both of my breasts in his hands.  One hand left me.  I thought I heard the tinkling of ice in a glass being shaken close to my head.  He was enjoying this now.  He was no longer tentative.  His hand returned to my breast but was replaced by the shock of cold, wet and smooth–an ice cube.  The ice cube circled my nipple and rivulets of water dripped down my ribs.  Then the cube went to my mouth.  I sucked on it and then on his fingers.  I heard him moan and felt him tense in my mouth.

His hands–one cold and wet, one warm and sweaty–stroked the insides of my thighs.  The separate sensations caused me to strain against my restraints.  As I strained, the rug underneath my back abraded me–I didn’t care.  I wanted badly to free myself from the ties and push my body into his hands.  I heard the a/c kick on.  The cold didn’t affect me–my skin was on fire.  I guessed he was kneeling between my thighs now.  I wiggled from side to side, so my thighs met his hands and rubbed against him.  It thrilled us both–I knew it.  I felt so comfortable with him, I trusted him even though I was trussed up, spread-eagle.  I didn’t think at all that I was completely naked on the floor and tied up.  I was consumed with desire and not being able to move or see intensified that feeling.

His hands flattened against my belly and they moved together, rising up and down with my ragged breathing.  “What do you want me to do to you, Jess?”  Through measured breathing, my voice husky with emotion, I answered, “I want you…inside me.  NOW.”

I heard his clothes come off quickly and drop to the floor.  Then I felt his warm weight on top of me.  He kissed me hard on the mouth.  He grabbed my hips with both hands and plunged into me.  I gasped out with relief.  He started rhythmically, then picked up his pace.  He was breathing hard into my ear.  I turned my head to kiss his neck.  He began to ride me hard, my restraints chafing my wrists and ankles, the rug chafing my backside.

I loved every painful sensation–every moment of it was exquisite.  I tried to move with him despite the restraining ties.  I cried out with laughter at the thrill of it.  He didn’t respond in kind.  He was gone from me–deep in the moment, grunting with every thrust like an animal, lifting my hips off the floor with every deep thrust.

We quickly got slick with sweat as our passions rose and met.  I could feel him getting close and my body responded.  I met him and we came together, grunting and crying out in unison with the thrusts.  My mind and body exploded and my heart burst.

My orgasm was so intense, I thought my body would shatter into a million pieces.  I tilted my head back and shook the rafters of his bedroom with my cries.  He had called me “Lassie” before to tease me about my good lungs, but I didn’t care anymore.  His fingers dug in deeper into my flesh as he cried out too and collapsed on me.  I couldn’t see him, but I knew the look on his face during his orgasm.  His eyes would roll back in his head and then his head would collapse on my chest like someone knocked him unconscious.  I giggled at the vision.  He was breathing heavily by my ear, “What?”

He pulled back my blindfold and loosened my restraints the best he could while still inside me.  I pantomimed him during his orgasm.

“Oh yeah?” he smirked.  “Well, this is you.”  He rolled on his back next to me.  I rubbed my wrists as he demonstrated.  He rolled his head from side to side, calling out, “Ooo!  Ooo!  Ooo!” in a high-pitched voice that was supposed to sound like me.  I stopped rubbing my wrists so I could slap him on his chest.  “Ooof!” he gasped and then grinned at me.  “You know it’s true, love.”

Then he sat up, untied my ankles, neglecting my wrists and rolled me on top of him, burying his face in my curtains of hair and planting kisses all over my face as I giggled.

“Wanna take a shower?” he asked.  I nodded.  He had to help me up off the floor–I was stiff and slow to move.  We climbed into the shower and soaped each other.  On Earth Day, we had pledged to save water after all.  He kissed me under the warm stream, rinsed me off and then gave me the look.  He was ready to go again.  So we sank to the bottom of the tub…and I was punished by the porcelain under me and the warm, slick body above me.