Rosy Cheeks

The world was suddenly bright as I opened my eyes to the hair streaming down her neck. The sun was barely up, and I had been waking earlier and earlier on my new work-school-home schedule. Before anything else, I click my phone screen on to check the time... 6:22. I groan. I don't even have to be up until 7:00. C'est la vie.

I put my phone back down and slowly scoot myself up against her. She's warm against the cold fabric of the sheets. My back is a little stiff, as is usual when I sleep next to her, but the feeling of our bodies curving perfectly against one another is worth the pain. She smells like me; we use the same things in the shower, since she doesn't care for frills and we both love my taste.

I slide my hand around her hip and onto her stomach, using the tips of my fingers to move the front of her shirt out of the way. Smooth, soft, perfect... there's nothing better than waking up to her skin safe against my palm.

"Mm..." escapes her lips, along with a nearly silent kissing sound. I make the same sounds back, and she snuggles up against me even more. It seems she's always either half-asleep, or she's thinking of me in her sleep. It's a wonderful feeling to know even when she's asleep she wants to feel my lips against hers.

I lay there for a moment and get comfortable again to squeeze in a few final moments of rest, but it's nearly impossible. Once I'm awake, I'm pretty much ready for the day. After a few minutes of slight readjustments and attempts to slip away, I give up and look at my phone again. 6:29.

I might as well make use of the time, then. Fingertips already at her waistband, I let them drift further down, and playfully trace a line across her from hip to hip, occasionally drawing tiny circles down her thighs.

"Mm, my love..." she whispers. She must just be half-asleep now.

"My angel," I reply, breathing the words through the thin veil of hair laying across her ear. Now knowing she's with me, I dare to be a little more adventurous.

My hand makes its way to the inside of her legs, making long, gentle strokes down to just above her knees and back up. She's just shaved last night, she's been really good with taking care of her skin, and the result is that I don't think she's ever felt more smooth. I could spend hours just exploring her body all over again to appreciate it.

She turns her head slightly and I see a sliver of sunlight reflecting off her squinted eyes. Her cheekbones are well-defined, her pupils simply shine, and the rainbow her iris makes at this angle are all too much. She's so beautiful. I kiss her forehead to make sure she knows that, and I get a sweet smile in response. We're so hopelessly in love.

But there's more here. On the other end of the day, when the sun is just going down, not coming up, there's another life to live. We both have our secrets, our needs, our desires. Apart from a lovely evening after work with a glass of wine and our favorite shows, we took the evening to make beautiful love, as we always do. Sometimes it's slow, sometimes it's fast, and every single time, we end up exhausted and content. Often, we fall asleep straight from there, though last night we somehow managed to clean ourselves up afterward and then make it to bed.

And I wanted more. I always do. And so does she. Had we more time together in this bed, or even in this apartment, we would be inseparable. We lust for each other more than I've ever known any couple to, and it'll be our undoing, surely. Even in these few waking moments we've already warmed ourselves up for a morning of promiscuity.

And I'm going to take that opportunity, but this time, with a little less gentle admiration.

I plan it perfectly, moments before she begins to turn to me. Just as she spins herself around and settles herself against my chest, I slide my other arm underneath her, spin us together rapidly to the edge of the bed, and in one swift motion I both throw the sheets to the foot of the bed with one hand and lay her perfectly in my lap with the other. She lets out a confused yelp, and she's quickly brought to full consciousness—

"Wha—why?!" She confusedly exclaims.

"My love, it's been a while..." I moan to her, catching her eye as she looks up at me from laying across my knee. Rather than fingertips, now my entire hand is wandering up the backs of her legs. I knead her here and there, taking her better curves into my hand and quickly moving up to more sensitive areas. I pull outward and upward, parting her legs, and making her toes curl ever so slightly.

She's wearing a pair of her best paper-thin and romantic panties, adorned with lace and a little bow at the top of the back. It's playful and sexy, and she loves to wear them often just to tease me. It accentuates her well; while we both take pride in how our backsides are shaped (by the grace of genetics!), I always admire hers more. I think she would win in a line-up.

"Such a beautiful ass, my dear," I can't help but say. I rest my hand right in the center of the half farther from me, and contort myself to lean down and take a nibble out of the other. She knows how much I love to do this, and loves it equally. I elicit a mix of whimper and soft moan with my teeth, tearing away at small stripes of skin nestled in the most sensitive folds.

"You're silly," she retorts. "And what exactly are you doing?"

"I'm telling you that you're all mine, and I can do anything I want with you." I look down at her loving eyes briefly as I say it. I cock a slanted smile, quickly turning devious. I let the silence take over for a moment afterward. The slightest gap between the crease of her lips open, and her eyes shy away in anticipation.

Then I pull my hand up and away, and bring it back down sharply.

An involuntary gasp is returned, and she snaps her head forward and away from me in shock. I gently move my hand in a circle against her for a moment, and then bring my hand back up over another area.

She gasps again, and her legs squirm between mine. While it's only gentle motions - not enough to really even cause her skin to redden - I know what the feeling means to her. She loves it...and I certainly do. We've done this only a few times before, often as a part of experimenting into our own sexualities, and our sexuality together. I've always sensed a distant feeling of longing for more; her subtle motions toward me for another hit, the way she recoils away and back to me each time, and the noises I elicit are telltale signs.

"Oh god," she breathes. She wants to look at me, but her eyes dart away from my gaze down at her. Perhaps it's embarrassment. Perhaps it's an invitation for more.

I'd like to believe the latter. I take the liberty to do it again, alternating twice on each side.

"Oh—mm—please!" The sounds reverberate against our bedroom walls, and I catch sight of her hand twitch and pinch at the bottom of the lopsided sheets. Her ankles extend, and she stands tiptoed against my firmly planted knee.

But she doesn't pull away or tell me to stop. She's already surrendered to me. I smile, and use both hands to pull and grab at her flesh. I'm arousing myself with the thought of what's to come, and I can between her legs is warmer than the rest. One more time - but now with three in quick succession.

She folds her back in response, throwing her neck up and gasping harder and louder. When I do more than one, it always stings more, but she's never once complained. That speaks volumes. I bend down for another kiss and nibble.

Now it's time for the real fun.

I work down both sides of the elastic so that she's completely exposed to me, panties sliding down to rest around her ankles and between mine. For just a moment, I feel the slightest bit of moisture stream down my leg. Whether it's sweat, or it's her, makes no difference to me. Both are an aphrodisiac coaxing me to continue.

But first for some assistance. Conveniently, the nightstand next to me is a treasure trove of our own personal toys. Pulling out the bottom drawer reveals a mass of perhaps our more promiscuous amenities: a mild amount of rope, a collection of bandanas, and - part gag item, part honeymoon frivolity - a cliche, pink, fluffy pair of handcuffs.

I only need two bandanas. The first, I immediately take to her face - though I love the sight of her desperate eyes with each new welt, I'd rather she have to bare the sensation without knowing when the next is coming. The one I choose is black, perfect to block out the light, and I tie it tight. She isn't to see a thing.

The second is more challenging, and more rewarding. I grab for her far arm and pin it against her back, making the needed adjustments to get at the second. When I have them both together, I hold them down and create the loop I need in the other hand. I know she won't attempt to escape - she loves this part too much to do so - I know the effect it has on her to be restrained, by me, as a precursor to what follows. I swear I can feel her heart pounding faster as I tie it off.

And then she's restrained. No looking back at me, no grabbing at my knees; she is now completely and utterly helpless. I'll take very, very good care of her.

"Beautiful... so beautiful..." I say, again tracing circles against her with my hand. This time, it's skin to skin, and the feeling is intensified beyond belief.

"I love you." She says under her breath.

"I know."

My hand moves in a flurry, changing sides, areas, and intensities. The sound she makes... they're more than music. With each motion, a new one penetrates the air, and each one sends a shiver down my own neck. To have her over my knee, powerless to me, wanting me to do this... if only it weren't so beautiful, I wouldn't be containing myself. I can feel the pressure between my legs pushing against hers, and I'm sure she does too.

Each bears a different strength, but as it goes on, they all become harder. Less time in between, and more at once. She kicks and whines, biting her lip from saying the safe word. I see down below us that her toes spread intermittently out of frustrated energy.

In between the more intense moments, I slide my fingers between her legs to check my success. With each passing minute, it's clear she's melting for me. A few lone drops of Her make their way down our legs, eventually passing onto the floor.

I extend a single finger and run it straight down the ridge of her back, around her ass, and between her legs. It fits perfectly between her lips; they part with a quiet enveloping of each length.

"Ohh..." she exhales. The mere presence of my fingers drives her wild. I need not even do anything more to make her writhe and force herself against them.

"Would you like me to tease you?" I ask. I already know the answer, and I know she wouldn't dare say it. I wait a moment, but the only response I receive is a tension at the back of her legs and heavy breath drifting down the hair of my own.

"Would you?" I press. "I'll just stay right here like this, never moving, never giving you an ounce of friction, unless you tell me that you want it." A gasp and deep croak of frustration, and then:

"Yes, please, god—" is all she can get out. Before she's finished the last syllable, I slide my finger forward more and roll her clit between it and her. I feel her tighten and thrust against me, knowing she's been waiting for this in the midst of it all.

For the next few moments, all I give her are these soft passes across it, filling the seal her lips create around me. A near-constant stream runs down the back of my hand and off my wrist, and it takes all my willpower not to bring her back up to the bed and bury my tongue between her legs.

She practically begs me with her whimpers to give her more, but I refuse. I've spent countless hours between the sheets with her to master the art of tease, and this is the final product. I would sacrifice weeks of my own pleasure just to drag her to the edge of release and back over and over and over again. And begs me to do it, too.

"This is torture! Pleeeaase," she finally bursts out. How out of character. So for only a second, I press hard against her and rapidly flick my fingertip back and forth. She nearly jumps away from the sudden electricity firing down her legs. And then, I stop.

Play time's over.

I fuel the fire already burning with another round of slaps to each side. These ones are even harder, but singular, and I leave space between them. She twists and turns each time and I can feel her skin warming. A light blush rises to the surface, complementing the redness already present across the beautiful features of her face.

Her lips quiver with each strained breath, in or out. For fleeting seconds here and there, she forms a lock around my free leg with her ankles, placing the full support of her body onto me. It's adorable and irresistible. I can't wait until I have the opportunity to tear away at more of her flesh and leave more permanent marks than this.

But when her skin is just starting to turn rosy red, I let her have a break. At least, a break from that part of it all. With this angle, I can perfectly enter her where she's most sensitive; I can curl my fingers just right to hit that perfect spot. I don't hesitate, and with a smooth trail between her legs, let two fingers take their place between her lips.

Through the blurry haze of what I'm doing to her, she whimpers yet again, and braces herself. I work myself in just deep enough, and begin my work - hooking her helplessly with my fingertips.

Already sensitive and soaked, she can't help but moan and twitch. Each pump of my fingers sends a shockwave through her legs, which are slowly failing to support her any more. To make it even worse, I begin to thrust with her own motions to entrench myself in the smooth grooves inside of her. She only thrusts harder.

After a few minutes of nonstop pleasure, she becomes practically limp, splayed across me in the most exposed and desirable way. She's going to owe me for this, but for now, it's time to end our little game.

She's panting, sweaty, and her cheeks are settled to a crisp pink when she exclaims "Oh god—my love!—"

I feel her body wildly fighting against me, at the same time as she begins to lose all control over it. She's about to finish. Every moment before has led up to this final, beautiful, intimate moment.

"Cum for me, my beautiful." It's all she ever needs when at this point.

She opens her mouth as if straining to yell, but nothing comes out. She frantically pulls against the knot around her wrists in absolute abandon. She kicks her feet up into my shin trying to escape me. I pick up my pace to as fast as I can go, slide in as deep as I can be, and press against her as hard as I can muster.

The climax is, as best as can be described, explosive.

A tidal wave soaks the insides of my legs. She constricts my fingers into being locked in place. The tremors through her body rock her abdomen against my knee, and I have to use my other hand to support her.

Or do I?

Halfway through the end, I give her one last loving volley.

She nearly launches into a second orgasm.

The sight is indescribable. In wreck less abandon, she gave up control to me. Her gorgeous ass sits on the edge of bruising, with a similar redness creeping across her labia. The flow of blood is powerful; I listen to the rhythm her body dances to through the pulses running through her veins.

After a few moments, she suddenly lays back down, resting her head slightly against the bed, letting her toes touch the ground again, her arms ceasing to strain against the restriction. She breathes deeper than ever, and the sound she makes? Equatable only to a human purr.

Just as well, a faint red outline of my hand makes its way to the surface of her round, soft skin. It's all warm to the touch - particularly between her legs. I remove myself after a moment, wiping off what I can manage onto my own leg, and run my fingers up and down her back - where she's otherwise most sensitive to my touch.

She shivers slightly to this, but otherwise remains incapacitated. She's so beautiful in this post-climactic phase of exhaustion.

While she cools down, I check the time one last time. 7:02. Perfect. I'll shower with my love (if she can stand - and once I untie her...), eat a light breakfast, and head out the door for my normal day.

Perhaps tonight, the tables will turn. Or maybe, this adventure will continue.