Letting Go by Letting Go

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Bondage frees her to cum.
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Amigovio
Amigovio
15 Followers

I.

"I can't come," she sighed, running a red fingernail around the rim of her glass. "Well, I can, but it takes...you know...forever. And even then, I don't get the fireworks that I've been hoping for." She stared dispassionately into the half finished margarita. Victoria Josephine Reed was still beautiful at forty- two, her long copper hair cascading in ringlets to mid- back. He marveled at her youthful appearance, her body still strong and supple despite a casual workout regimen and a none-too-strict diet.

"What do you think the problem might be?" He was three years her junior, nearsighted and overweight. Not a terrific specimen, he knew. He still had her scent on his fingers and her taste on his tongue, even though they hadn't been lovers for nearly twenty years. And he still found her beautiful, although her features were sharp and severe, her nose having been broken and her chin scarred by an auto accident some years before. Still, her body was wonderful, he thought. Her small breasts were still firm, he could tell from their outline against her tee shirt. Her smile was still enchanting. And her voice grabbed him somewhere between his masculinity and his heart.

"I think it's because I'm a controlling person," she mused, sipping at the now- warm cocktail. "I get close, but then my mind....just, er...stops me somehow. I can't give in to the feelings, I don't know why." He could see tears of frustration beginning to form in her pale green eyes. "I want to come, I really do. And I'm jealous of the women who can come so intensely and so easily."

"Do you have a lover?" he asked, immediately knowing the answer. Of course she had a lover, perhaps a few. A woman as sexual and as lovely as Victoria had no difficulty finding lovers.

She set the drink upon the scarred table. The bar was nearly empty, the early afternoon crowd gone and the after work crowd not yet evident. "Uh-huh. And don't get me wrong; Carl is wonderful. He's a very strong lover... he's a body builder you know, really has a lot of stamina. Thank God. Even though I never make it. I get sort of close, you know, but..." She stared past him into the dim recesses of the bar. The jukebox was playing an old Pat Benetar tune, "Hit me with your best shot...c'mon and hit me with your best shot..."

The man across the table from her felt his heart sink. Stamina. A pack a day, seventy extra pounds, a lazy wife and a sedentary lifestyle had taken away any real stamina he had ever had. And this Carl was a body builder... Jesus. He didn't stand a chance. "Lemme guess," he grinned wryly. "The guy drives a Ferrari and makes two hundred grand a year too?"

Her laugh was musical, almost in perfect harmony with the jukebox. "No, he drives a pickup and he only makes fifty a year. Surely you're not jealous!"

"Not jealous, really." But he was. He couldn't explain why, but he wanted her again. "But back to your problem...." She smiled softly at him. "I need to somehow lose control" she continued, pausing to sip again at her drink. "Drugs and booze don't do it, although I'm sure that a second margarita wouldn't hurt..." He gestured to the waitress, a pale-looking young brunette in faded jeans. She took the order and walked lazily toward the bar. "I think I may have the answer to your problem," he mused. "You'll have to trust me, and do exactly as I tell you. I promise you that you'll be safe, but I can also promise you that you won't be in control..."

The drinks arrived. Victoria picked up her glass and regarded him with a worried expression. "What are you talking about, Paul?" He smiled mysteriously. "You'll find out tomorrow. Take a cab to the hacienda. I'll be waiting. Wear something sexy for me. I'll have everything else we need." He sipped at his wine and continued to smile at her. This would work, he thought. She'd be his plaything, and in return he would give her the release she craved. He continued, "You'll have one tool of control. But we'll talk about that tomorrow. Dinner?"

She stared at him. "But... but I thought we'd... you know, tonight... I mean, I've missed you and I was hoping..." Her voice trailed off.

His smile never left his face. "Oh, sweet lady, we will. Tonight I think you should have a long, warm bath and a good night's sleep. You'll need it."

II.

His host left for work, and Paul immediately began preparing for Victoria's visit. He loaded his Canon with a fresh roll of film and checked the batteries in the expensive Japanese flash mounted on the camera. He then made sure that the ropes were ready. Soft cotton clothesline, the ropes would be a gentle introduction for her. He unwrapped the vibrator...a long soft plastic wand only vaguely resembling a penis. It was very long and quite thick, he noted as he found the tube of lubricant he had bought at the sex shop. He placed the vibrator and lubricant on the dresser, and reached into the paper bag. The raspberry- flavored "emotion lotion" was there. He took it out of the sack and set it on the dresser. Victoria would see the ropes, potions and toys when she entered the bedroom, but the camera would be a surprise.

He looked in his shaving kit and found the condoms. No need, he thought. He would not enter her, and he preferred to feel her mouth and hands without the inhibition of plastic... and besides, condoms would not protect his mouth. He intended to taste her again; his curiosity would let him do no less. Caution to the wind, he thought. He then fitted his razor with a fresh blade and went into the bathroom.

He took a long, steaming shower, letting the water pound his skin until he felt loose and relaxed. He then smeared his scrotum and pubic hair with shaving cream. Carefully, he denuded his tender nut-sack, gently stroking the razor against his soft skin. He carefully shaved the persistent hairs which grew from his cock, and trimmed his pubic hair into a perfect triangle. He wanted to feel every caress to its fullest, and shaving the hair from his cock would make his erection appear larger. He knew that Victoria liked the size of his cock, but he wanted to feel bigger and more masterful. Having shaven his privates baby- smooth, he rinsed the razor and shaved his face.

He dressed in a black silk bathrobe and sat on the edge of the bed. Taking a bottle of aloe vera lotion in hand, he gently massaged the freshly shaven areas until they were soft and moist. He then put on a pair of silk boxers and pulled the robe more snugly around his frame. He wanted to be sexy for her. He needed to. He was nervous, and the more nervous he became he knew, the more likely it became that he would be impotent. His head had gotten in the way of his cock recently, and he didn't want it to happen with Victoria. He had no intentions of inserting himself into her, but he didn't want to fail her either. Perhaps a smoke? He wandered into the living room and found the joint his host had thoughtfully left for him on the glass-topped coffee table. He lit the reefer, took a long puff, and then extinguished it. "It's a balancing act," he grinned to himself. "Just enough to loosen up, not enough to turn myself (and my cock) into a zombie." He couldn't believe how nervous he was, and nervousness would not suit his objective at all. He glanced at his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes.

Her knock at the door startled him. He fairly flew to the door, seeing her lithe outline in the frosted glass of the antique hacienda door. He took a deep breath and welcomed her, opening the door and gently kissing her soft mouth in one motion. She moaned gently against his tongue, and slipped through the doorway.

III.

She was dressed in a black tee, denim shorts and a pair of sandals. She had recently washed and combed her long hair, and the sunlight danced through the openings in the white shutters and off the wisps of hair that fluttered in the breeze from the ceiling fan. She was wearing no makeup, and her face showed the lines and cracks of twenty- five years of bad relationships and careless men. She looked lovely nonetheless, the simplicity of her outfit only making him want her more.

"So what's this game you've got in mind for me?" She trembled slightly in anticipation. She felt her heart pounding in her chest and temples. Paul had always been an attentive and caring lover; he had also been the most inventive. She wondered about his life, how it had been in the years since they had last made love. She wondered about his wife three thousand miles away. He had been so hurt and at the same time so damned understanding when she had dumped him to marry Ford, her second husband. He had cried, then stepped out of the way, allowing Ford to court, marry, abuse and divorce her. Paul had always been the trusted long- distance friend, the one in whom she had confided occasionally during the darkest hours of her life in those intervening years. She loved and trusted Paul, but many men had laid their hands on her, and many had ended up being unkind and uncaring.

Victoria was nervous. She hoped it didn't show, but the idea of letting go of all control nearly panicked her. "Is that a joint I see on the table? Let's smoke, and you can tell me about this game you have in mind..."

Paul lit the blunt and passed it to her. He liked to watch her attempts to smoke the harsh weed; she inadvertently choked on the smoke whenever she tried to inhale it. She gamely held a small puff of the cloying smoke, then coughed it out. "I've never been able to smoke this shit, " she apologized. He grinned at her and snuffed out the cigarette in a pottery ashtray.

"The game is this, Vic. Today, I am your master and you are my slave. You will do exactly as I tell you to do, without question and without complaint. I own you today. Completely. If you become aroused, it will be because I allow you to."

She frowned. She figured his plan had something to do with dominance and submission, and she wasn't sure that she liked the idea. "Are you going to tie me up and whip me, or what?" She hadn't yet seen the ropes and toys in the bedroom.

"I am going to bind you, yes. It will be more symbolic than actual, but you will not be able to use your hands...."

She became anxious then. "But I can't! I mean, I've never allowed...." Her voice trailed off. "Remember that I told you that you'd have one tool of control?" he asked. "That tool of control is your safe word. If you're enjoying what I'm doing to you, you may say 'Green.' I'll know that you're enjoying it and push you a little farther. If you say 'Yellow,' I'll know that you're unsure and that I need to slow down. If you say 'Red,' that means 'I've had enough, game over."

She looked thoughtfully at him. "Have you ever done this before?" He smiled benevolently at her, his eyes shining with fond memory and his growing lust. He began to tell her his fondest bondage experiences, from spanking sweet Nicole's 18- year old bottom until she came, to the story of Liz and the handcuffs. He embellished a story or two, and told her one that was an outright lie. He watched in fascination as she squirmed on the loveseat. "Let me get this straight... You're going to tie me up and... do things to me... and I can use the safety words to encourage you, to warn you that I'm uncomfortable, or to make you stop, right?" "Yes!" he nodded emphatically. "But I also encourage you to trust me and to allow me to help you push your limits. This is about you giving up control so that you can really cum, remember that. Listen, Victoria... have I ever done anything to hurt you in any way?" "No," she answered without hesitation. "And I do trust you, but.... I'm scared."

He thought, "So am I, sweetheart, so am I...."

IV.

They walked hand in hand into the small guest bedroom. Victoria giggled when she saw the array of toys and lotions on the dresser. "Looks like you're prepared," she smiled. "Silence!" he commanded. "You will not speak unless spoken to, and you will address me as Master, do you understand." Victoria smiled again, "Yes, um, Master. So what's next?" He turned on the radio to a local jazz station, and soft, pulsing music threaded its way through the room. "First, " he replied, "I want you to undress for me. Have you ever been to a strip club?" She had, she admitted. "Well then, I want you to slowly take off your clothes and strike some poses for me..."

Victoria kicked off her sandals and turned her

back to him, teasing him as she slowly lifted the tee shirt. He had noticed that she wasn't wearing a bra, and watched with increasing lust as the garment slipped over her head. She dropped it to the floor, still keeping her back to him. "Good. Now turn around...slowly." She did as she was told. He felt the blood rushing to his cock when she turned to face him, her crossed arms covering her petite, little- girl breasts. She stood there before him, awaiting instructions. "Let's see those pretty little tits, slave!" Slowly she uncrossed her arms, and swaying to the sensual music, opened her chest for him to see. He remained seated, savoring the feeling of his throbbing cock gently chafing against the silk boxers. She turned around again, and slowly peeled off the denim shorts and slowly turned again to face him. She had donned a g-string for the occasion, a purple silk affair that barely covered her freshly- shaven mound. "You can leave the g-string on for the moment, slave. Now kneel on that ottoman with your ass toward me, and let me see you from behind...."

Without hesitation she crawled sensuously onto the white upholstered footstool, aiming her ass at him. Not bad, he thought. The g-string revealed more now, and he liked the view. He then reached for the camera, aimed it, and pressed the shutter release.

The flash startled her. "Yellow!" she cried. "You didn't tell me there was going to be a camera involved! I'm very camera- shy!" "Silence, slave!" he commanded. "You are a beautiful specimen, and I want to capture you on film as we play. Besides, you needn't worry. I'm using slide film; the guys at the photo lab will never see you, since the slides are processed and mounted by machine. Now lift your ass into the air!"

She felt a flush of excitement. Nobody had ever photographed her like this. Ford and Mike, her two ex- husbands had both wanted to, but she had refused. Now Master Paul was making her pose and strut like a porn queen. She felt something melting within her pussy, something beginning to move deep within her.

Paul watched her through the camera lens as she raised her ass higher. "Put your fingers between your legs and pull the g-string aside. I want to see your juicy cunt!" The vulgarity of the words grabbed her, and without thinking she pulled the g-string aside and began to masturbate. A none- too- gentle slap on the ass startled her. "Did I give you permission to start jerking yourself off, you horny little bitch?" He spanked her again with the palm of his hand, this time much more tenderly. "You WILL masturbate for me, maybe...but not until you're told. Is that clear?" "Yes, Master, " she breathed. She still wasn't sure if she enjoyed this game, but there was no denying the moisture between her legs. Paul readied the camera again and took another shot, a close-up worthy of Hustler magazine. The purple silk of the g-string looked good against the pink of her sex. Through the lens he could see she was getting wet. Good.

He put the camera aside and sat again on the bed. She was still facing the wall, her ass and sex swaying gently to the music. She hadn't stopped moving, he noticed. Good. Very good. She was getting into the game. "So you enjoy masturbating, do you slave? Turn around and slip that g- string off. I want you naked." She slowly turned to face him and peeled the g-string off her hips. She started to drop it on the floor when he commanded. "No, give it to me. I want to smell your juice." She did as she was told, and watched in fascination as he pressed the now- moist lingerie to his face and inhaled her scent. "G- string was a nice touch," he sighed. "You're a good sex- slave. I must reward you for your thoughtfulness. Open your legs, and let me see your twat." She did as she was commanded. "Now you may play with yourself, slave. Let your master watch you turn yourself on."

Her fingers went to her right nipple and to her pussy automatically. She realized at that moment that she always turned herself on by the same method. She had masturbated for her men before, this part of the game was nothing new. But then Paul again took out the camera. "Good slut! Jerk that clit for your Master!" He fired off two more shots in rapid succession.

She felt ashamed and exhilarated at the same time to be made into a porno- slut for Paul's pleasure. She began to feel a small tingling, the beginnings of orgasm building within her. Faster and faster she stroked her swollen clitoris, her breath now coming in ragged gasps. "Stop!" he commanded, just before she was about to climax. She ignored him, and continued stroking her heated sex.

Paul stood up and grabbed her wrists in one hand. "I said, STOP slave! It's not time for you to cum yet. Not even close!" Victoria was stranded at the very brink of orgasm. She began to pull her hands free, begging "Please Paul...please master! I'm so close!" Frustrated, she struggled against his grip. He held on to her wrists firmly. "If you want to cum right now by your own hand, then fine. Say 'red' and we'll end the game right this second, and you can go on and finish...if that's what you really want." She relaxed and stopped struggling. "Women can cum more than once, you know!" she stated. "Talking back to your Master already, slave? Well then, perhaps it's time that you be taught a lesson..." He pulled her to her feet and flung her toward the bed. She sprawled across the queen- size mattress on her back. "Hey!" she complained.

He ignored her and took a length of the cotton clothesline from the dresser. "Clasp your hands in front of you as if you were praying, slut!" Victoria did so, her face showing both fear and arousal. "If you can't keep your hands away from your pussy, I'll have to help you!" He deftly tied her wrists together, snugly but allowing circulation. She tested the unfamiliar bonds, and discovered to her dismay that he had her hands trapped. "If you promise to keep quiet, I won't gag you," he continued, gently pushing her onto her back and pulling her legs apart. He took two lengths of rope and secured her spread legs to the footboard of the bed. She knew at that moment that she was committed to the game; despite her nervousness, she would play it out a little longer. But she knew she did not want him to stuff a gag into her mouth. If he did so, she would lose the power of the safe word... "Yes Master, I'll be quiet. Please don't gag me." It was just the reaction he had expected, and he smiled gently.

"Since you're so fond of getting your pussy touched, I think I'll help you out. You're being pretty cooperative for a beginner, so I'll show you a little mercy." He took the camera in hand again and got a picture of her, tied and naked on the leopard skin print sheets.

Paul reached for the bottle of the fruit- flavored "emotion lotion." He poured a small puddle of the liquid into his palm, and was surprised at the intense heat from the capsicum in the potion. He gently spread the lotion under Victoria's arms, under each earlobe, on her nipples and on her throbbing sex. Finally he took a few droplets of the liquid and smeared it around her pouting asshole. Then he began to slowly blow on the moistened areas, pausing occasionally to lick and nibble at the tasty flesh.

Victoria squirmed against the bonds, her breathing deepening and little moans escaping her lips. The heat from the lotion made all of her sensitive places tingle and throb like mad! Paul's exploring tongue and lips were pushing her towards orgasm, and she began to rock her hips back and forth.

Amigovio
Amigovio
15 Followers
12