Careful

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Caution doesn't always mean no. Sometimes it means please.
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arbenitre
arbenitre
131 Followers

"You're going to wish you had been more careful about the things you hope for."

His voice is low in her ear, sending chills throughout her every nerve. A gasp escapes her shivering body.

"I can feel you trembling. That's only going to excite me more and more. Maybe too much." His tone is growing steadily more ragged. "Before you drive me to lose control, you'll need to know what you're getting into."

His fist yanks her hair back. Stretches her neck and the tremors become shivers become spasms. "He could make me cum like this," she thinks.

She thought she knew him. At least, she knew guys like him and assumed he was like them. It's not as though she were an innocent in the ways of sex and relationships. She was not only advanced for her age, but well versed in the things that interested her. She had been a precocious child and had reached her coming of age with knowledge and poise well beyond her years. It wasn't that she was old in the ways of pleasure either, a reincarnation of ancient geisha or even some kind of sensual savant. She just knew what she wanted. She'd read enough to know what made her body tingle in the right places. Or in the right ways.

She knew what she wanted long before she knew what it was. Her travels through pages of stories and tales of adventures encompassed all the things she hoped someday to experience. Her wrists chafed for leather to clamp upon them and hold them. Her skin thrummed with need and expectation.

The men she chooses come close to her imaginings. Close as the razor edge of orgasm. One that leaves her wanting. Keeps her seeking.

This is how she knew him. Not a disappointment, no, definitely not, but not a complete fulfillment either. Like the others. She thought she was getting the kind of adventure she's come to look for.

"Online hookups really aren't my thing." He says as he looks her over.

She wonders what he sees that's new. They're certainly not strangers anymore. She knows him better than anyone in her life. Had shared more of herself and her secret heart than she ever has.

It wasn't an intentional thing. Something she started out one day to do. He just asked the right questions. Was interested in her. Looked at her, felt for her, listened to what she said. She came to this meeting ready for him. Now uncertainty strikes her. Does he want her? She's hardly the prettiest woman she knows. Not the most popular by any stretch. The most interesting. Or unusual some might say. That's her. Different. He called her intriguing. She liked that.

"I'm glad I made an exception."

His smile relaxes that place in her stomach that had been clenched since she'd seen him walking towards her across the park. She still can't find words.

"Of course, it's not like we're strangers."

There's a dam somewhere above her navel, but below her throat. Words can't get through. Air has a difficult time. Sounds are empty chuffling. Somehow his eyes block her thoughts from becoming speech. His lips weaken her knees. Pictures of his mouth against her neck melt her fingertips.

"I suppose it's normal to take you someplace private and perform all your little fantasies just the way we've worked them out."

His timbre sends intricate waves of coming disaster crashing over her. She feels the ominous throbbing of machinery beyond her control. Her head spins and colors refract into splinters of sensation.

"I want to enjoy you." He looks her up and down. Thoroughly. Gazes into her crevices and she feels his approval like a living thing.

"I do hope I've prepared you enough." His eyes deepen. "You're going to please me." She shivers. "You're going to do whatever I need from you." He gives a sanctioning nod. "You'll work hard to please me. I'm going to enjoy you very much."

He gathers her and finds her mouth. Light nibbles and touches. Sighs slip out and hover around them. The nips and nudges run across her mouth corner to corner. She feels warmth cover her raw nerves and her bones soften.

"Come here." He takes her hand and leads her down the path. After about a half mile or maybe more, he pulls her off into the woods.

Before she realizes what's happening, he has her pinned to a tree.The trunk separates her breasts and the rough bark penetrates her thin blouse.

"Many women are submissive, but on their own terms. Nothing happens that they don't allow. They're able to maintain a form of control." His voice is low and growling. She feels his erection digging into the meat of her buttock where he presses her firmly to the wood. She thinks, with a smirk, ."he wants me." An earthy smell invades her thoughts, then, and keeps her from holding onto any other single one.

"You're not going to have any control with me. When you agree to submit you'll be all in and I'll do what I want with you."

The words shimmer from the base of her skull to her tailbone where they flare into bright heat and spread through her groin.

"You need to really think about what you agree to." She feels his hard on grow even stiffer as it jabs her hip. She gives a wiggle. It's all she can manage to do, pressed against the tree this way.

"Your struggles, your pleadings, even your tears will all only serve to excite me all the more. It's what really turns me on." As if to punctuate this, his hardness jerks and pulses, searching for a way into her clothes.

"Think it over well. I know we've talked about it and you decided this is what you want. You're here to meet me and to jump right in and fuck, but you may not be anywhere near prepared for the the intensity that my kind of play will bring." He moves closer to her ear. The feel of his cock overwhelming.

"Memories are connected to our senses. You're going to remember starting this journey every time you smell pine. The tree is so fragrant that it'll always be associated with your decision to give yourself completely."

As he says this, the smell of the wood permeates her pores. The rough feel of bark and the loamy smell of earth all combine to impel her into another plane. Expel her from her body. She wonders if he's hypnotizing her or something like that. She's floating in a kind of limbo she knows won't go away until she says "yes, take me as you want."

She tries to speak, but can't begin to swallow. Before she can work the muscles into allowing sounds to form, he dips into the backs of her knees and spins her lightly as she falls until she lands neatly in front of him. Face to his bulging crotch. His fingers unzip and free his hard length as more fingers twirl into her hair and yank. She has hardly time to enjoy the view before she is on it, sliding up and down the length, losing herself in the silky smooth feeling and the delightful stiff pulsing. She wants it to fill her mouth with jism the way her senses are running over. She wants soft creaminess running out the corners of her mouth.

She grabs and pulls, sucks and moans, tugs and swallows until she feels the tempo change. Tastes the viscous bit of gel seeping out the slit at the tip. She wants it. All of it.

"You haven't done anything to earn that yet." He yanks her hard. Hair tries to part with her scalp. He pulls her to her feet.

"You do that very nicely though. I'm going to want a lot more of it." He kisses her lips and she stands dazed before him.

After tucking himself in his pants (with quite a bit of difficulty, she is pleased to see), he takes her by the elbow and walks her back to the trail.

"I'm going to take my time with you." He tells her as they walk. "That means it's going to be very difficult. I'll help you through it, but I will get what I want."

A couple pass by. They are trying not to stare at her. Dirt roughened knees where her skirt had ridden up to her thighs. Bits of bark clinging to the middle of her chest. Flushed and panting. He has her arm in a directive way. Steering her forcefully out of the woods. She finds herself smirking again. The picture of his hard cock pushing at her gives her a sway to her step that probably looks as slutty as it feels. She glances down and a thrill slips through her panties at the sight of his slacks tenting way out.

"He wants me." She thinks.

Freedom is sexy, she realizes. She is free to act like a slut with him. She can swing her hips as much as she wants. Push her breasts out, lock her elbows and show off her curves. Her ass exaggerates her walk into a whore's strut. She turns him on and the thrill of knowing it gives her confidence.

As she fills out her new sensuality, he locks his grip on her limb, jerks her into a space thick with big trees (the symbolism hardly escapes her) and forces her back to the bole of a particularly large one. Her gasp shoves hot from her lips. He's going to take her. Hard and fast. Liquid runs trails of fire down her thighs.

"You have a long way to go." His words are a wild growl. "You will please me because of what you are willing to do for me. I will take what I want from you. If you prance around, showing off your sex, making me want you even more, I will be merciless when I have you alone. If you make me lose control, you'll suffer the consequences."

Far from causing her concern - at least panic anyway - her body's reaction is a flare of heat she's never experienced before. All the more fierce by the earnest truth in his voice. The rough bark at her back suddenly pokes her in such intimacy that she wriggles to touch more of her body to the stuck out edges.

The tree scratching at her spine keeps her from becoming completely lost in the sensation of his hard chest pressing her. The rock solid muscle barring her way, leaving her nothing but the little space she manages to squirm in. She would dissolve right into it but for the abrading wood. He takes her wrists and holds them slightly behind her.

"I'm not someone you can play submissive games with until you have me at your advantage, then do as you please." There's a tone to his voice that sends slivers of crystal into her softest places.

She feels his hard on straining against the cloth between them. "I will not allow you to submit only as far as your self preservation will let you." His hands grab both sides of her hair, leaving her arms to float in the position he had kept them.

"I will take every bit of you."

His lips nudge her own. Touch and tease the plump organs until she stops breathing. Kisses so light, she can hardly believe they're real.

His fingertips draw down her cheekbones, waft along her jaw, motion her mouth to his once more and he steps away. Leaves her to drift. Like when a heavy weight has held your arm until you can't bear it and when it's gone, you just float. Up and up without direction or sense. A jellyfish.

She almost giggles. "His jellyfish of love." Her nerves are fraying.

When she pulls herself together enough to follow him, it's all she can do to make one foot chase the other. Her arms want to wave weightlessly at the underside of the stars. He stretches his fingers out to catch some of hers and they hold hands back to the parking lot.

The food should have been good. It should have been great, actually. The smells went beyond tantalizing. The colors, the arrangements, the descriptions leave her in no doubt that the restaurant deserves it's radiant reviews. She's heard of this place, but never so casually as when he opened the door for her.

"He's done something to me." She thinks to herself. "He's made it so I can't feel anything." She gulps and corrects herself. "No. That's not it. I feel everything. He's made it so I can't feel pleasure."

She muses for moment. "No. That's not it either. He has stopped me from wanting anything but what he'll give me."

"You're very quiet." He is close. So close she feels like stammering. "I'm glad to see you're taking this seriously." He leans back to a more comfortable space. The right distance for warm and yet relaxed conversation.

"Relationships begin before we even notice." He smiles at her and liquid delight runs through her.

"I'm glad you stopped trying to make me throw you down and fuck you." This time he chuckles and she feels her inner tensions melt. There is a release in knowing your needs will be taken care of. Suddenly, the food is perfect. The vegetables inviting, the salad crisp, even the root beer sizzles and pops.

"As you've already experienced, I intend to know more about you than what your orgasm sounds like." He tears a piece of bread and chews.

She takes a bit of salad. It's perfect.

"I didn't bring you here for the experience. I chose this place because everything will be just right and we'll have fewer distractions." She realizes there is less to take away from the conversation. The atmosphere is subtle and comforting.

"This is a journey and we've hardly begun. I find you interesting and want to know more." He gives her a look dripping with more than lust.

She remembers she talked. It felt like days spent unburdening her soul. They were in the restaurant slightly more than a couple hours, but her life, her hopes, her dreams and her innermost fantasies poured out onto starched tablecloths. They had dessert and she shuddered to think what he expected from her for the money spent. There are men who value sex so little that they demand outrageous things from her for a fast food quick meal.

He'd asked the waitress to give them time to decide as the dinner plates whisked away and she tried to formulate the thought to him. He knew immediately what she was really concerned about.

"I don't trade for sex. You'll need to remember that." He gives her a look that says she'll do well to bear it in mind. She's starting to see the edges of the lake she's falling into.

"The times we share are ours together. Whether things cost money or are lying around for anyone to have, isn't a value of mine. It's whether it's worth having. If I don't enjoy time with you, I'm not going to enjoy sex with you either. Not like I want it. The same as you, I can cum anytime I want. I can make myself cum or find someone else. It's a question of value. If we have a great time together and decide not to have sex afterwards, that's a decision distinct from any time we spend together and anything we do. Also, since this is not proposed to be a..." he hesitates "complacent type of relationship, There are other factors."

He pauses again. His eyes are smoke. She stares. They were so blue until the woods, then they turned dark. Indigo. Flickering with lightning strikes.

"Your decisions as far as sex go are intertwined with your decisions regarding this lifestyle - or rather, this relationship - in general. When you give yourself up for my pleasure, I won't accept halfway."

A huge knot twists inside her, but she doesn't look away.

"I also don't mean you're going to be locked in a basement. I like who you are. I don't believe relationships are truly of value unless both parties gain from them. Become better and stronger. I believe in partnerships."

Somewhere she melted and an incredible chocolate cake appeared. She ate without saying anything more.

They didn't have sex the first date. He called it a meet and greet. He wouldn't take her "yes" either, telling her he wanted her to think it through without his presence or the obvious attraction and excitement issues.

They didn't have sex the second date. He called it a rules of engagement meeting. They talked about the things likely to come up. "Face to face," he said. They'd already covered most of what turned each of them on with others or solitarily or in fantasy and they both knew what the other had experience with. He said they needed to talk about it directly.

They sat, they walked, they lay side by side and talked for hours. He walked her into the shade of a hundred thousand leaves and kissed her until she all but came. That's when she said yes. And meant it more than any other time.

His email was explicit. Friday after work, she drove the hour to the little town and parked at the train station where he kissed her. She realized then that she'd been on the edge, wanting that kiss, for days.

They went to a saddlery shop just before closing where he picked out a riding crop with intricate designs that made her mouth dry, a plain, wide belt that he put on at the counter, soaking her panties, several wide, punched leather straps for repairing a saddle and a wicked looking quirt that buckled her knees and brought a stinging sensation to her eyes.

They went to a hardware store where he bought an assortment of gadgets. Rubber o rings, rope, metal fixtures, carabiner clips and wood dowels.

Finally, they went to the market and bought an assortment of foods. He asked her opinion on choices constantly, respectfully. They bought soap and toiletries. In one of the aisles there was a personal massager he picked up nonchalantly and set in the buggy while fluid gushed down her legs. They loaded the last of the purchases into his trunk (her car was to be left at the train station) and the forty minute drive to the cabin he'd rented for the weekend ended in darkness.

The night blurs into a fantasy unimagined and indelible. They made a simple dinner together, cleaned up, together. He took a shower as she looked through the bags with growing dread, uncertainty and thrill. He made a fire as she showered. She had brought a nightgown she didn't think he'd ignore.

When he kisses her, she burns red. She is lifted and settles onto a comforter in front of the fireplace with a plush sigh. The kisses set her off balance. She wants to grind into him and he flirts away. She wants him to cover her completely and he nips at her edges. She writhes.

Somewhere in a lost hour or past, he straps her wrists. The broad leather buckles down with a final stretch and her heart bolts. The straps are connected with clips and fasteners. He rips the belt from his pants, turns her on her side and loops it around the tops of her elbows.

The kisses quell some of the storm. A rising gale of panic and whistling fear nearly take her, but his lips nibble and nuzzle and keep her barely sane.

"You're going to wish you had been more careful about the things you hope for." His voice is rough in her ear. Harsh. It sends waves of goosebumps through her.

He moves behind her, at her head. His voice is in her ear, his hands on her breasts. Her nipples already ache so badly, they may never be limp again. When his fingers explore her sex, she nearly cums so many times, she loses count. Over and over she lunges to the threshold of orgasm only to falter as he pulls away.

He ties her ankles, takes her outside and ties her to a tree. The belt stings across her hardened nubs. A smack, a kiss, a smack, a long suckle. He torments her until she begs.

He lets her slip to the grass and she had just a view of his stiff rod waving back and forth as he positions himself before he shoves it past her lips and down her throat. He grabs fists of her hair and stuffs her full of his cock.

"You're far stronger than most people." He had told her. "They can't handle you. Take you like you want. Like you need. I like that. Very much."

He yanks her up and marches her back inside and straps her hanging before the fire. Her bare feet on the warm comforter. The ropes and hardware worked into a pulley system that holds her upright no matter how she struggles.

And fight she does. She bucks as the leather crop strikes her ass, her tits, the insides of her thighs and the backs of her knees. She writhes as he pinches at her clit until she shakes in open orgasm and he releases her to come crashing back down unfulfilled. He brings her to the very edge so many times she is in tears when her mouth spills forth a torrent of pleading.

He'd just used the crop on her, tapping the handle delicately against her engorged bud. Every touch leaving a groaning ache deep in her groin. He tapped and prodded until she felt ripples fanning outward from the base of her spine. Surging forth in peaks of electric sparkle and troughs of full pressure. Suddenly, she crested. The furies dragging her over the horizon she thought so far away. A gasp was all she had time for and her knees shook. Her arms jumped and spasmed. Her mind popped.

arbenitre
arbenitre
131 Followers
12