Jewel's Weekend

She struggled to keep her eyes open -- would have struggled to remain still, if she hadn't been bound. She couldn't embrace him. She couldn't push against him. She could only accept the pleasure he offered her and lose herself in it. She began to drown in the joy of their intimacy, and the guttural sounds that expressed his pleasure brought her back to the surface. She began to encourage him, coax him, bring him to the edge of his orgasm, and if he went over the edge, she was sure she would go with him, if only he would allow it. Their gaze locked as tightly as any embrace could. Their souls were intertwined. Her voice found more strength, and her eyes returned the fire that his eyes flashed at her. She was almost shouting at him, surprising herself with the filthiness of her language, and he laughed, his thrusts becoming faster and more forceful, until he bellowed, "Cum now, jewel," and she did, as she felt him throb inside her, felt his seed flood her, heard his moans as he gradually relaxed, and she whispered her thanks, over and over again.

*****

She reclined on the pillows. Being leashed to the bedpost, she had nowhere else to go, and didn't mind in the least. She looked down, trying to admire those new, deerskin-lined wrist cuffs, but it was hard to get a good look at them with the carabiner clip securing them to the front ring of her collar. There would be time to take a closer look at them later. She opened her mouth, and the grape tomato that he fed her burst between her teeth as she closed it again. She washed it down with spring water from the bottle that he held to her lips. Putting the bottle aside, he embraced her, cradling her head against his chest. They would doze together for a while, gathering their strength and waiting for the tide of their passion to roll in again. It was going to be a good weekend.