The Bastien of Winter

She pouted charmingly. "But I love playing sexy mad scientist!"

"You love to play, period." he retorted.

Winter nodded, grinning mischievously. "You're not wrong."

Sebastien smiled. No, frigidity was not the problem, here. "I'm going to shower first tonight. You stay out here and..." here he slowly walked his fingers up her inner thigh, and gently tapped at the apex of her thighs. Winter raised an eyebrow at him and he grinned. Climbing to his feet, with her in his arms, he set her on the bed and began loosening his tie. Walking backwards to the bathroom, he said, "Let's just see what happens. See you on the other side." He closed the door, and left her to her personal playtime.

When he later exited the bathroom in a cloud of fragrant steam, he found Winter sitting on the side of the bed, looking thoughtful. "Well?" he gently queried.

She nodded, blowing out a breath. "It worked." He sat beside her, not even bothering to put on a towel, and she leaned against his warm side, uncaring of his intermittent dripping. "So, what does this mean?" she asked.

"Well," he sighed, "it's not physical."

She was silent. Then her face crumpled. "I just want to be good for you!"

"What?" he asked, bemused by her outburst.

"It's so frustrating. All I want is to please you, and I can't even do that!" she said bitterly.

"What do you mean, 'Please me'?" he questioned.

"I want to keep you aroused." she answered haltingly.

"I don't understand," he said.

"I don't know," she said dismissively turning away.

"Yes you do," he coaxed, wrapping his arm around her, and laying her head against his shoulder. "Talk to me, love."

"I don't want to bore you. I just don't understand why my body isn't cooperating." She bit her lip.

He was silent. Then, he said slowly, "I think...I think that we've just discovered the problem." She lifted her head to look at him questioningly. He began to slowly rub her arm. "You don't have to...perform for me. You are my wife, not a bloody...porn star. I think that you're...so worried about looking, and sounding good that your mind is keeping your body from taking over." He pulled her into his lap, and wrapped his arms around her.

"Winter..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Sex isn't entertainment. It's about loving and giving, cherishing and adoring another person, while they reciprocally love and give, cherish and adore." She stared at him in shock as he went on. "It's a physical representation of unconditional love that is supposed to be given exclusively between two people." He paused to give her a chance to respond.

"I would be inclined to agree with you, but..." she sighed, blowing a stray tendril from her face. She seemed to gather her courage, then plunged on, "Studies have shown that during sex, about the only time a man experiences a surge of oxytocin is during orgasm. After orgasm, a man's oxytocin levels return to their normally relatively low levels. Conversely, not only do women produce oxytocin during sex, orgasm, and post orgasm, but they also produce higher levels of oxytocin during each stage." It was his turn to stare at her. "What I'm trying to say is that...sex will not necessarily make you bond with me emotionally, but I know that if I can keep you sexually interested, then you'll be more inclined to stay because you'll want to keep having sex with me."

Silence reigned after her little speech. Winter's face flushed redder and redder as Sebastien continued to stay silent. When he finally spoke, his voice was very soft. "I think that the casually graphic that way sex is portrayed in modern media, has caused you not to regard it as communication, but to instead adopt the idea that it's primarily for recreation, or even sport. What was lost in the translation was intimacy." She turned away in embarrassment. He took her hand, and gently stroked her ring finger. "Fifteen days ago, with this ring I thee wed." He kissed her tawny little knuckle, then stood with her in his arms. Carrying her into the bathroom, he purred, "Tonight, with my body I thee worship..."

He stood her next to the tub, and began to gently remove her clothing. When Winter realized what he was doing, she moved to help him, but he brushed away her hands. "No, a stóirín, tonight I want to take care of you. Will you let me do that?" She nodded hesitantly while he finished pulling her shirt from her skirt and patiently undid all of the tiny pearl buttons. He lifted her left wrist and undid her cuff, kissing the round little bone at the outside of her wrist, then moving to the other. She smiled a grateful smile inside when he tossed her shirt into the hamper. Sebastien was so neat. It was one of the things that she loved about him. He leaned into her, slowly stroking his hand down her side, brushing it over her ribs and caressing her hip. Bringing his hand back up, he slowly undid the zipper at her side, and let the skirt pool to the floor.

"Step out of it, please," he asked politely. After tossing it into the hamper, he wrapped his long arms around her, slowly sliding his hands up her spine. Sebastien deftly undid her bra, sliding her straps down her arms without moving back, so that the tips of Winter's nipples brushed his chest as she breathed. She leaned forward, nuzzling his neck, and he tilted his head to nuzzle her cheek. Before he became lost, he took a step back, and knelt at her feet, to undo her stockings and toss them with the quickly growing pile. He slowly slid his hands up her naked, sensitive legs, cupping her bottom, and pulling her forward, so that he could bury his face in the soft warmth at the top of her thighs. He breathed deeply, scenting her arousal, and feeling her wetness against his lips. He looked up at her, wearing nothing but her garter belt and panties, her hair framing her face as she looked down at him.

He hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties, and slowly uncovered her curls, placing soft, reverent kisses on them as he dragged her panties lower. After she had stepped out of them, Sebastien brought them briefly to his face, inhaling the salty, light scent of her arousal, while looking up at her. Winter's mouth had fallen slightly open at the sight of her husband at her feet, with her panties held to his face, so he gently placed them in the hamper, resisting the urge to really scandalize her by suddenly letting his tongue slide up her slit.

Sebastien stood, leaned into the stall, and turned on the shower. He helped Winter into the shower, positioning her to stand with the steaming spray running over her front, while he stood behind her, warming her back, one arm around her waist, his erection nestled between her soft cheeks. Taking a sponge and dipping it into the pot of whipped soap, he began to slowly lather her body from head to toe. When he reached her intimate areas, she made as if to take over, but he stopped her, whispering seductively in her ear, "No, a ghrá mo chroí. I take care of what is mine..." She gasped as she slid a warm, soapy cloth between her legs, leisurely cleaning her there, then slipped the cloth between her cheeks. She blushed as the roving cloth slid over her tightly furled rosebud, but she didn't stop him.

By the time they left the shower, Winter had been thoroughly bathed, with great attention having been paid to her more sensitive areas. Sebastien wrapped her in a warm, fluffy towel, brushing it over her skin to absorb the shower water. When he was satisfied that she had been thoroughly dried, he gave himself a quick once over with the towel, to rid himself of any extraneous water. Tossing the towel into the hamper, he started for her, his engorged cock insouciantly bouncing from thigh to thigh. She giggled at the sight, and he grinned, briefly making it dance for her.

He stalked toward her again, and she backed toward the bed, sitting with a sudden plop. He grinned again as he moved forward, forcing her to climb backward on the bed, until her back hit the headboard. Sebastien wrapped an arm around Winter's waist, and pulled her down onto her back, climbing on top of her. She started to wrap her arms around his neck, but he took her hands from around his shoulders and kissed her wrists, then drew them over her head. "Lie here, just like that," he said. He left to procure one of his ties, then returning, used it to deftly bind her wrists to he headboard. She looked up at him, hurt, and he said, "This is to make sure that you don't drive me mad with those questing little hands of yours. As soon as you put your hands on me...I lose control," here, he brushed his mouth over hers, continuing, "You make me crazy."

Mollified, Winter lay back and let him finish tying her securely. Sebastien gazed down at his sweet little wife looking up at him so trustingly. He gave her a slow, crooked grin, as he whispered, "I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair." Her eyes widened as she recognized the opening line to one of her favourite Neruda love poems. His mouth descended on hers, and she shivered as he gave her a thorough, probing kiss. His firm lips slid against her soft ones, his tongue rhythmically plunging into her mouth, brushing her tongue, sliding across her teeth, tickling along the seam of her mouth. Winter groaned low, and Sebastien felt a jolt shoot down to his cock as she involuntarily arched, and nipped him, sinking her sharp little teeth into his sensitive bottom lip. He smiled against her mouth as he felt her squirming slowly beneath him.

He dragged his lips down to her throat, placing tender kisses against the delicate caramel skin. Her head fell back as his soft beard and warm mouth teased the sensitive skin of her throat, making her squirm even more. His hand was buried in her hair, fingertips stroking her sensitive scalp.

He moved his mouth lower, rubbing his beard along the curve of her right breast. He murmured, "Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets." Looking up to watch her face, Sebastien opened his mouth over her breast, and gently bit. His flickering tongue laved her sensitive nipple as his teeth sank into the soft flesh of her full, warm breast. Winter released a high pitched whine, as her face contorted in pleasure. Sucking hard, his tongue lapping around her puckered areola, he brought his strong left hand to her other breast, palming it a little roughly as his tongue gently stroked. He caressed her breast, brushing over her insistent little nipple with his thumb, even as his hot, wet mouth was busy with its twin. Winter jerked as jolts of pleasure shot from her breasts down to her swollen clitoris, which was peeking out of its wet little red hood, begging for a soft kiss.

Sebastien switched his mouth to the other breast, latching on and sucking powerfully, as he brought his right hand to her left breast, to gently pinch and twist her now-wet nipple. Winter's mouth worked silently, as he lavished attention on her breasts, his loving ministrations leaving them flushed, nipples hard and sensitive. He moved his head between her breasts, cupping them, so that they brushed against his face as he leisurely kissed, licked, nibbled, and suckled his way back up to her neck.

Against her throat, he hoarsely whispered, "Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps." Winter sighed as he opened his mouth over her throat, letting his teeth graze her soft skin. He reverently placed small, sucking kisses against her throat, moving to the exquisitely sensitive place along the side of her neck. Growling roughly, Sebastien let go and sank his teeth into the softness beneath him. A tortured whimper filtered past his inflamed senses, as his little wife's body softened beneath his, and he smiled inwardly.

His mind idly drifted back to the immense sense of satisfaction he had felt when he learned that Winter loved being bitten. And Winter loved to bite... She was the one woman that he had ever met that didn't care if he left marks on her skin. When had once repeated the question that previous girlfriends had asked him, namely, "What will people think?" to gauge her reaction, she had responded with a neat, dry, "They'll get over it."

Sebastien opened his mouth, and slowly ran his tongue over the small indentations his teeth had left, while Winter slowly melted, boneless, into the bed. He began placing slow, suckling kisses down to her collarbone, then dragged his warm mouth over her sternum to her belly, nipping and suckling at her soft, fragrant skin. He rubbed his jaw over the smooth skin of her tummy, like a cat marking his territory, covering her with his scent.

He briefly thought about shaving his beard, so that he could better feel her skin against his, before being distracted by the slow rolling of her hips underneath his chest. Softly, reverently kissing his way to her right hipbone, he slowly dragged his tongue along the sensitive hollow between her hipbone and the side of her curls. Winter purred, then arched sharply, as he sank his teeth into the soft flesh. He lazily traced his lapping tongue down, where her thigh met her sex, using his long, veiny, gentle hands to slowly open her legs.

He could feel the anticipation thrumming through her as his warm breath ruffled her curls. He chuckled to himself, deep and low, before moving his face to nuzzle the curving hollow of her left inner thigh. She relaxed under him, her left calf resting against his back as he nuzzled, kissed, and stroked his way over the soft skin. He slid his warm palms slowly up her thighs, up her hips, as he switched his attentions her right thigh. Just as he sensed Winter's complete relaxation, he struck, closing his mouth over her skin, his sharp white teeth sinking deeply into the flushed, tawny flesh of the inside of her thigh. Her reaction was immediate and satisfying as she threw back her head, arching and panting. Sebastien loved teasing her like this. Building her up, and letting her relax...and then building her up again. It made her wild, transforming her from a cool little logician into a panting, writhing, arching slave of his ardent love.

He transferred his mouth to her other thigh, nipping and suckling the soft skin, rubbing his tickling beard over her. He could smell the scent of her arousal, salty and clean, and he had to shut his eyes tightly against the insistent pulse in his groin. He looked up at the shining wetness, coating her swollen lips, and dug his fingers roughly into the side of her thigh. He let go when she moaned, realizing that in his distraction, he was gripping her too tightly. Though Winter liked it when he lost control, when he gripped her too tightly, and kissed her too roughly, tonight he would control himself. At least...for now... He made his way down her body with soft kisses along the insides of her thighs, her knees, her calves. He lifted each delicate foot, and pressed soft, loving kisses against her ankles, adoring every part of her exquisite little body.

He crawled slowly back up her body, briefly sparing a longing look at her inviting sex then, removing himself from temptation, draped himself over her. Running his hands over her waist and hips, he moved lower, to slide his fingers behind her knees. He gently massaged the back of her knees in slow circles while she opened her legs and artlessly moved her hips against him, panting lightly. Sebastien had discovered this little erogenous zone of hers on their third night together. He pressed his chest tightly to hers, as he ran warm his palms over her rounded calves, cupping them as he gently massaged. Winter relaxed, as he glided his hands back up her thighs, up her hips, up her tiny waist, up her delicate ribs, and up the soft, sensitive insides of her arms.

He took his time, gently tracing his fingertips along her soft, pale skin of her inner arms, as he kissed and suckled her shoulder. "I hunger for your sleek laugh, your hands the colour of a savage harvest, hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails," he whispered against the side of her throat. He climbed to his knees, and let his mouth follow the path that his left hand had taken, suckling the sensitive skin of her inner arm. He ran his tongue in slow circles against the crook of her elbow as she softly sighed and squirmed at his thorough attention. Sebastien nipped and suckled his way up her arm until he could lavish her delicate wrist with the wet, suckling heat of his open mouth and tracing tongue.

He transferred his mouth to her other wrist, nipping down and licking against the almost translucent skin. He slowly made his way down the inside of her arm, pausing to treat the inside of this elbow to the same slow, wet, warm affection as the other. As he continued his way down, his mouth open and suckling against her underarm, he slid his hand up her arm and used his fingertips to gently stroke the soft, private skin between her fingers.

He nuzzled close to her, deepening his voice as he purred in her ear, "...I want to eat your skin like a whole almond." Winter moaned at this pronouncement, writhing under his hand as he slowly ran it between her breasts, down her warm belly, over her soft curls, only to let his fingertips lazily explore her wet little slit. He rested on his side, pressed tightly to hers, as he leisurely stroked up and down her slit, his fingers spreading her slipperiness over her full, pink and golden lips. He slid his fingertips to her opening, circling it slowly, agonizingly as he placed gentle kisses along the shell of her ear. Winter shuddered as she felt him stroke his fingertips shallowly into her wet heat, teasing the slick flesh of her opening. He rested his palm against her curls, her swollen bud rubbing against his hand as he petted her, teased her, stroked her. He slid his tongue into her ear, making her tremble uncontrollably as he licked. He moved his mouth to her earlobe, dragging the tip of his tongue around the edge, and then sucking it into his mouth, as he clever little fingers slid inside and firmly caressed her G-spot. He had discovered that little sensual surprise on their tenth night together.

As her hips rolled and writhed under his hand, he whispered in her ear, low and hot, "I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, the sovereign nose of your arrogant face," Winter could feel the tingles in her body, slowly coalescing into an insistent throb. She was so close, but not there, not yet... Sebastien removed his hand from her wet, hot, soft sex. Winter's eyes widened behind the blindfold, and she sucked in a small breath, as she heard the slow, wet noise of him sucking clean every single one of the fingers that had just touched her so sweetly.

He lay against her for a while, panting into the crook of her neck, his arm wrapped heavily around her waist, as he willed his clamouring body to calm. He softly stroked her waist and hip, gently lulling her. His hand drifted to her face, tracing the bone of her nose, stroking her cheek, gliding along her jawline as he hoarsely whispered, "I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes," his hand cupping her jaw as his thumb caressed her moist, plump lips.

Gathering his willpower, he climbed back over her, opening her legs gently, but firmly, as he kissed his way slowly back down her body. Sebastien brought his face in line with her sex, swollen and open to his gaze, the glistening hood thrown back from the plump pearl, the inner lips rosy and inviting. He swallowed hard, looking up at her, at her face framed (given his position) by her plump, almond-tipped breasts, and breathed, "...and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, hunting for you, for your hot heart, like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue."

Winter relaxed at these last words, a satisfied smile lighting up her face. He smiled at her, though she couldn't see it, then slowly lowered his open mouth to her waiting lips. At the first burning kiss, her hips rose sharply, and her thighs clasped his head. "No, no, baby," he instructed, pulling her legs over his broad shoulders, and caressing her thighs, "Keep your legs open..."