The Perfect Torment

“I try to stay on top of you
To hold your body down
Your shaking seems to hinder
Every grip that I had found

Moving every inch around you
To defuse your private bomb
I stretch myself surrounding
And protecting you from harm”
-Blue October

         The lyrics seem to caress every inch of exposed skin, his voice is like a trance inducing hypnotist. A deep breath and my hand goes back to my face. So practiced it should be habit by now, I draw each dark line around my bright eyes. I love how the soft black pencil nearly melts on my skin, so perfectly matching my black lace addiction; every bit as sexy as the scant lace perfection that make up my panties, my bra, my garters. Smooth as the old fashion nylons running up my legs. Stunning as the spiked black heels adorning my feet. I do think it’s almost perfect.

         Everything is almost perfect. I have to take another deep breath, breathing in the soft delicious scent of the vanilla massage oil heating over a candle. Something about the warm air stirring against my bared skin is electrifying my senses. I find myself drawn to the bed. I’m always drawn to the bed. I can’t resist the pleasure of soft cotton against my naked skin, the luxury of sinking into downy softness or the lure of luxurious pillows. A moment of fascination turned obsession and I find myself distracted, lying upon the soft black cotton. It’s always like this. Everything arranged to be romantic, perhaps even erotic if one counted the amount of restraints around the room.

         My eyes seek out the only timepiece nearby. It reads ten until. I am waiting, waiting for him to walk through my door. I am waiting for the soft click of the lock and the soft padding of his shoes on the carpet. I am waiting for him to stand before the bed, pull me roughly into his strong arms and kiss me with all the passion that is within him. Waiting. A week ago I promised him he’d have a slave for the night. Hours ago, he said tonight he’d have his way with me. Then, scant moments ago, I put down that tantalizingly naughty story book, every page of which acted the bellows to my smoldering ardor for him. Another breath, I let my hands stray to my exposed skin, wondering so slowly down my collarbone over my heart and down my stomach, stroking every inch until the intensity leads me further on. I let my head fall back, just to enjoy the feel of skin on sensitive skin while every inch sizzles with desire. I marvel at how delicious such strokes can be.

         My fingers could not be convinced to stop, nor my mind convinced to stay; I let myself remember. I had taken out the box and showed you my newest toy. It seemed that with little more than a smile you had the collar on me and my hands tied behind my back. A second later, you had me tossed over a mountain of pillows. There was naught but carnal delight to find myself at your mercy, unable to even push myself up. I found myself struggling to breathe, having to concentrate and hold my hands higher, least the collar pull tight. You paid no attention to such things; instead you fanned my desire into the highest of flames. It makes me wet just thinking of how you stroked the sides of my aching breasts; how your fingers brushed my neck when you moved my hair and I pulse with pleasure at the thought of your sharp even teeth sinking into my neck. The jolt of pleasure then, I must have soaked my panties and then your fingers were there too. So softly you stroked the lace between my spread thighs. It seemed an eternity and then you slide the soaking, amazingly abrasive material between my wanting nether lips. I had thought I’d die with pleasure when you found my clit, of course I didn’t. You always know just how to keep me on the edge, just how to stroke and touch to keep me wanting you. How could I not? I could feel your naked skin against mine, and your throbbing cock brushed against my restrained fingertips. How much I wanted to touch you, to stroke you, to lick you. You stayed just out of reach; such perfect torment, such precise pleasure. Panting, I begged you for more, a deeper touch, and a lasting kiss. The only reply was your heavy panting as your lips and teeth teased along my neck. The nibbling and kissing distracted me for the seconds it took you to slip those talented fingers under the soaked lace, until they slipped forcefully into me. I gasp, crying out, in such perfect torture. More, god I wanted more.

         Even now I want more, my fingers wander over the soft lace top of these garters. Would you be displeased and punish me if I started without you? You’ve never played Master, I don’t know. It’s almost too much to bear; I let my fingers stroke over the lace pulled tight over my crotch. My other hand searches out my hard aching nipples; tugging and twisting them with no release to be found. I try to think, to recall what time you said you’d be here. Thinking of you though, all I can remember is that night.

         My mind strays and I am there again, ankles tied to the legs of my desk. They couldn’t get further apart. You pushed me down over the soft satin pillow, the collar stole away my air if I didn’t hold my hands higher and you stripped my panties off me. Then, the blindfold made of soft satin stole away my vision. There is a thrill to being completely yours and an unease to be so exposed yet helpless. My breasts tightened and ached with unfulfilled desire. The waiting then, as now, is nearly unbearable. When would you touch me? How would you touch me? A sharp sting excited my sense as your open palm comes down on my bared bottom. The ties on the garters pulled tight and I cried out. You know better and spanked me again before sliding your hard throbbing cock against my slick nether lips. I struggled to keep my hands up high, struggled to remember I need air more than this pleasure. But, all restraint was gone, I was begging again, begging you to drive it home, to cum inside me. Ever the perfect tease, one hand tugging my nipples, you pressed a buzzing vibrator to my swollen clit and still you slide that throbbing hardness against me. So close, so close and so out of reach. I rocked onto my tiptoes, presented a better angle, and begged without words for what I so desperately wanted from you. I could just imagine the bliss of it, to have you slide every hard inch into my wanting hole. The sheer pleasure of being stretched and filled, taken completely, all while that toy drives me closer to the edge. I bit my lip and tried to suppress the moans you elicited from my very soul.

         There is nothing but this memory, those moments. I am panting and even as hard as I rub the lace against myself, it’s not enough. It’s never enough. It won’t quench the burning desire that fills my mind, inflames my body. Half in a memory, half in this aroused trace I begin to slide my now damp fingers into my panties, toward my aching clit when a strong hand grasps my wrist hard. My heart skips a beat and fear instantly blossoms in my stomach. I take a breath and will myself to open my eyes. I look up into the very ones I was fantasizing about, twinkling and full of unmasked arousal. You smirk as you tie my hands above my head, all my attention on you as you say, “Well, my dear, I wonder what would make you think you could start without me ….”