47. Ropes
Lazy
Saturday at home when they aren't on call. The kind of day where they
can take the time to really play with each other. Tim's favorite sort of
day.
They'd slept in, laid around, he'd gotten some good writing done, and she'd gone to see Kayla Vance, school was out, but they still kept seeing each other for a few hours every week.
After that, dinner at home, a little TV, and then bedtime, early bedtime. (Okay, obscenely early bedtime, it was seven thirty.)
The rope had started at the upper left post on the bed. It was black, silk, the sort of thing used to tie up baroque curtains. (McGee had found it at a decorator's supply store. They'd been looking for fabric for curtains, didn't find any they liked, but did end up with a supply of new ropes in a lot of interesting colors.) It's one end was tied firmly and allowed to dangle into a soft and shiny tassel. From there it looped around McGee's left wrist, also tied firmly, and he grasped the few inches of slack rope between the bed post and his hand. It spiraled down his arm, around his chest and stomach, snaking from the small of his back to his right leg, spiraling from there down to yet another secure knot around his ankle, and one last knot tying that ankle to the lower left bedpost.
He's waiting. Abby tied him up, and left. She's been gone about fifteen minutes, so probably getting into costume, or maybe just making him sweat a little, possibly both.
Doesn't matter, he's comfortable, eager, and feeling good.
His right hand is free, so he's slowly stroking himself. Not trying to get off or anything, just keeping his interest level high.
She comes back, and he smiles at her. She's in heels, stockings, a black silk corset, and a lace choker. Her hair's back in a bun, and she's got her eyes painted black and smoked out.
She's not smiling. She reaches down and slaps his hand, hard. "Bad, McGee. I want your dick touched, I'll do it myself."
A second later his right hand is handcuffed to the right bed post, and he's stretched out as far as he goes. This is less comfortable, quite a bit more exposed, and he really likes it, and hopes she'll take pictures. He can see the dichotomy of the silk and the cuffs in his mind, but because of his position on the bed he can only see one arm at a time, and he'd like to see the whole thing laid out at once.
She kneels between his legs, one hand on each of his hips, and slowly, delicately, the flat of her tongue flush on the inside of his leg, licks from the crease of his knee to his left testicle.
His eyes close and a long slow breath escapes. She's mouthing it, rubbing her lips and tongue over it, and then takes it in her mouth to suck gently. He's trying to thrust, but can't really, not with the way she's pinning his hips.
So he's squirming in a very pleased sort of way, watching her through heavily lidded eyes, tingling all over from the pleasure, and she pulls back, grinning. Her fingers rest lightly on his hipbones.
"I want your hips to stay still."
His hips go still.
She stands up and fetches a pillow and the bottle of lube. Placing them next to his hips. Oh yeah, he knows where this is going and his dick twitches in anticipation, looking forward to her wet, soft mouth on it.
She doesn't get back on the bed. Instead she walks around it to her side, and her nightstand and opens their toy box. He knows what lives in there, and his eyes light up even further. She gets one of the vibrators. It's a small, fairly slim one, so, oh yeah, she's going to use it on him.
Vibrator, lube, pillow under his hips. Just thinking about that is making him even harder.
"Hips up."
He complies and she tucks the pillow, folded in half, under him. Then she trails her fingers down his left leg, nails scraping gently, tickling his foot.
"Can you keep this leg still?"
He thinks about it. If she wants his hips still, he'll have a much easier time of that with both legs tied. But if part of this is about the challenge of it, then keeping it free ramps that up further.
"Is the vibrator going to go in me or on me?"
"Both."
His mouth goes dry at that, and he swallows hard. That's something they don't do all that often, but when she does do it to him, it gets him off so hard his whole body shakes for minutes after. "Probably not."
Abby kisses his ankle and smiles at him quickly, and then fetches another rope to tie his left leg down. When she finishes he tugs a little at the binding, and it's good and secure. He's not going anywhere.
She climbs onto the bed, looking sleek and dangerous, perfect in gothic black. For a moment she just kneels there, between his legs, letting him look at her, corset tight, breasts high and round, legs in silk stockings and no panties.
He wants to talk, but she hasn't said he can, so he just looks, and hopes his eyes get how much he's enjoying this across.
Then she shimmies up his body, stroking his legs, hips, thighs, testicles, skipping over his dick, to rub his stomach and chest. She licks his neck, nibbles his ear, and says, "I don't remember saying that you were allowed to start without me."
True enough. She also hadn't said he couldn't either. But, moot point. This is all part of the game, and he's eager to play.
She rises up on her knees, balancing her weight on one leg while the other straddles his neck and hooks under his shoulder and arm. Her weight shifts, settling her pussy inches from his mouth.
He wants to lick, wants to suck, wants to revel in her taste, but she hasn't told him to yet, so he holds still. He inhales deeply, enjoying her scent, and keeps his eyes open so he can look. Nothing on earth more beautiful than Abby's pussy. Nothing.
"Like what you see?"
"Love it."
"Want to taste?"
"Yes. Please."
She lowers herself, just brushing against his lips, teasing him with her body and her control. He doesn't move, because she hasn't told him to, yet, but he wants to.
"You may kiss me."
Thank you. And he does, lips stroking along her skin, tongue skimming wet flesh. She's rolling gently against him, a slow easy stroke that he's got no problem keeping up with. He matches his speed to her hips, taking his cues from how her body moves, and wishes he had at least one hand free so he could add his fingers to the mix.
But he can't, so he doesn't. He rolls her clit with his tongue, keeping up a steady pressure and speed, letting her set the pace.
She's moaning, rich, easy sounds, almost lazy, definitely not sated.
She leans back, grabs the vibrator, and begins to use it on herself while he licks. Using it the way he'd use his fingers, adding some slide, some stretch, a little pressure to the g-spot. She doesn't turn it on, which he appreciates because having his tongue buzzing would be distracting.
Her eyes drift shut, and she plays with one nipple while stroking herself, and he licks, pressing harder, keeping up as her hips roll faster. Her breath, moans, pitch all increase, and he enjoys it, feeling her get wetter, move faster, more turned on against his mouth, making him harder, making him want to thrust along, though he doesn't. He keeps his hips still, and refocuses on his lips and tongue, on getting her off hard and fast and pleasing his lady.
She's moving faster, jerking, less coordinated, and he's having a harder time keeping his tongue where it belongs. But he does, or well enough she doesn't complain, and in a minute he hears her switch from moans to a soft, Ohhh sound, one he knows means her orgasm is seconds away.
And then her body is rippling against his tongue as her thighs twitch. He stops licking and just presses his tongue to her, holding still, knowing how sensitive her clit is right after she gets off.
She rests for a few seconds, and then shifts off of him, leaning down, kissing him, licking his lips, tasting herself, and then passing that taste back to him. "Thank you. That took the edge off nicely. Now, McGee, what to do for you..."
She kneels between his legs and starts by just tracing her fingers up his inner thighs. He wants to sigh. What she's doing feels nice, but he still hasn't been given permission to make noise, so he stays quiet.
She starts to lick, soft, wet, hot, up his left thigh. And he wants to move. He wants to sort of roll his hips, nudge her just a bit to... Oh, yeah, there. She's cupped his balls and pulled them a bit to the side, tonguing the crease where his leg meets his body.
He wants to thrust, to press up against her, just get a little more pressure and maybe, if he could get her just an inch over, because, right there, under his balls, oh god, yeah, that's just God please Abby just right there!
It's the most perfect frustration ever. That whole area is exquisitely sensitive, but it's not his dick. He wants to ripple and roll against her, pull her mouth onto him, fuck her frantically, thrusting hard and fast. And he can't. He's keeping his hips still as she laps at his perineum and strokes his balls.
"Talk to me; tell me how you feel."
"If you don't fuck me, I'm going to die!" Okay, he's not quite there, yet, but part of the fun of the game is being able to say whatever he wants. And he wants to say things like that, wants to put himself entirely in her hands.
"Not yet, baby, not yet." Her hands stroke over his hips and thighs. "You can take more of this. In fact..." He hears the click of the lube bottle opening, and knows what's coming next.
"Oh, God, please, yes." That might do it. He figured out years ago, after a lot of reading, that exploring certain less easily accessible areas of his anatomy might result in very good things. And result in good things it did. What he doesn't know is if he can get off from prostate stimulation alone. He's never tried.
But right now, as she's gently slicking him up, and slowly stretching him out, he's really hoping it can, because if he doesn't get off soon, he's going to go mad.
He doesn't love this part of it. He's tight, that's just how he's built, so loosening up isn't something that comes naturally, but what comes next, that's worth it, well, well worth it.
And, God, her tongue, lapping gently on his balls, making them try to crawl into his body, making him want to come so hard, and her fingers, gently easing the way, slipping and sliding into him, making sure this won't hurt, he was so ready when he felt the cool plastic of the vibrator slip into him.
She sort of swirls it, angling up and gently pressing. His head is back, and he yells, "Fuck! Oh God, please, fuck!" He can feel it all the way from the base of his spine to his balls and down both his legs.
"Abby!"
"You're okay. I'm gonna take care of you."
And, oh God, he's never ever been this turned on and not come.
Her tongue is fast. The vibrator is slow. Slowly easing in and out, slowly buzzing in him. Slowly, or maybe not too slowly, driving him into a wet puddle of insane lust.
He realizes he can't get off if no one is touching his dick. He suddenly knows this for a fact. She can spin him out as long as she wants, keeping him just on the verge of getting off, but as long as she doesn't touch him there, there's no shot of accidentally getting him off.
"Oh, God, Abby, you're killing me."
She held her hand just above his dick, and he can feel the heat of her palm. Don't move your hips. And he doesn't, but he's certainly trying to see if he can get that little muscle at the base of his pelvis to twitch hard enough to at least brush against her palm.
"That's the idea, McGee."
He twitches and almost touches her. She shakes her head. "Bad, bad, Timmy. Nobody's touching your dick anytime soon, I'm afraid." She leans over and blows on it. Hot, moist air, making his hands and feet clench.
Oh, God, that was almost enough. "Please, do that again."
"No. Just trust me; I won't push you further than you can go. But you can go for a good long time." She twists the vibrator, upping the speed, runs slick fingers over his perineum, and goes back to sucking his balls. He wants to buck up at her, thrust into anything, hell the air, just move, just feel, just make that little wand move faster or harder, or just a little more something, anything to get him off.
"Please, Abby, please, please. Just touch it, just a little, please, baby."
Tim is an excellent submissive, especially for someone who isn't one by nature. Some people need to have someone else take charge, make all the decisions, control the encounter, and take care of them. But Tim doesn't need that, he just likes it. He loves laying back and letting Abby take charge. Putting his pleasure entirely in her hands is a treat. But, he also likes being the one in charge, and if anything, he actually leans more to the dominant side than the submissive one.
So, the fact that, as of this point he has never, ever broken a command is something he's proud of. If this was baseball and he was a pitcher, he'd have a perfect no hit career.
But right now all he can think about is how, if he could just move his hips a little, if he could just possibly thrust just the tiniest bit, he could maybe rub up against her nose or hair or something and just please, God, please, get off.
He's pulling hard on the ropes and the cuff, trying to divert that desire to thrust to his arms, yanking on the bed, anything to try and hold his control as she swirls her tongue around him and turns the speed on the vibrator up even faster.
"God, baby, you're really going to kill me. Just please, touch it, just a little, please."
"Oh, I think you can take a little more."
"Noooo..." he moans.
Abby stops. That sounded enough like real pain that she's worried. She scoots up, takes his face in her hands, and says, "You still remember your safeword?"
He nods. He doesn't smile, can't quite smile right now because, God, he wants to come, and that's pretty much shot his ability to reassure her to hell and gone. But he's still got his safeword in his mind, and he knows he can stop this anytime. Just say her name and it'll be done. But he won't. He can do this. He trusts her not to push him further than he can go.
She kisses him sweetly and then slides back down his body. She's sucking his testicles gently as her fingers press his prostate from the one side and the vibrator gets it from the other.
God what she's doing makes him feel like he's coming, but he's not. There's a small pool on his stomach from the drops of pre cum she's coaxing out of him, and his cock's so hard it feels ready to burst, and she still won't stroke it.
Head back, groaning, he pulls on the bedposts again, past words, past any thought but the desire to come.
Then she touched him. Wet, slick hand, two strokes and he was gone, climaxing so hard he couldn't see, riding an arc of pleasure that felt like it was going to consume him.
He heard a loud pop and suddenly everything on his left arm went loose. For a second he thought he might have dislocated his shoulder, but nothing hurt, and once he figured that out nothing else mattered. He just lay there, limp, boneless, completely exhausted and twitching.
She got the vibrator out of him fast, what feels excellent before getting off is really painful once he does. And a few seconds after that she's cut the ropes and uncuffed him. He curls into a little ball on his side, something that always feels good after he comes hard tied spread eagle, and continues to shudder.
She curls against his back, and soothingly strokes his arm and leg.
"You okay?"
He nods and lets her hold him, quietly waiting for his body to recover. He stops shaking after a few minutes. Something about this combination does that to him. It has to be tied up, spun out, and anal, any two of the three doesn't result in him curled in a cum spattered ball, exhausted, shuddering, and high as a kite on endorphins. But all three together... Well, asking if he still remembered his safeword wasn't an idle question, he's been far enough gone in the past that he's forgotten it.
When he stops shaking and begins to uncurl, Abby sits up, untying the rope from his wrist, unwinding it from his arm. He doesn't feel like sitting up, so she doesn't bother to try and get it off his torso. She undoes the knots on both of his ankles, and comes back with a warm damp washcloth.
He lays there, eyes closed, not sleeping, but very peaceful as she wipes his hair, neck, shoulder, and chest.
"That feels good."
"You're definitely going to want to wash your hair in the morning."
"Thanks for aiming this time." The first time they had done this, he'd ended up giving himself a facial, which wasn't a turn on for either of them. "Right when I got off, something popped. What was it?"
"You broke the bed."
That got Tim to open his eyes. He turned to look at the left bedpost and saw that it was indeed no longer attached to the bed, and that Abby must have propped it against the wall when she got the washcloth.
For a second he just stared at it, and then said, "You didn't say I couldn't move my arms."
"True." She smiles, looking at joint where the bedpost came free from the bed.
Tim sits up and fingers the break. "I would have thought the rope would have gone before the bedpost."
"Apparently it's a good rope. Not so good bedpost."
"Looks like the screw pulled loose and it broke from there."
She nods. "Wrought iron for the next bed?"
"Are you going to do that to me again?"
"I intend to."
"Yeah, wrought iron. Steel if they make them." He untangles the rope from the rest of himself, and grabs the washcloth, he can feel there's a wet spot on his shoulder that she didn't get, and a long smear on his knee and thigh from when he pulled into a ball. He debates getting up and really washing off, but right now all he really wants to do is just lay there and tingle, floating on a cloud of oxytocin.
So he does.
Abby undresses, takes her hair down, and curls into his right side, head on his shoulder.
"Thank you."
"For what?" he says. If anyone is going to be giving thanks, he figures that it should be him.
"Letting me do that to you. Letting me see you like that. You look so amazing when you come."
He smiles a little, eyes drifting shut. He kisses the top of her head, inhales deeply, enjoying her scent, and the feel of her breath on his shoulder.
"It looks really intense."
If he had been a little less post-orgasmic-blissed-out, he might have caught on sooner as to where this was going, but he felt like his brain was only tangentially attached to the rest of him at that moment, so he didn't quite get where this might be going.
"Yeah, it really is." He kisses the top of her head again. "Made me see stars. Literal stars. Vision blacking out and white pinpricks."
He's breathing deeply. Not on the verge of sleep, this is more like meditation than sleep, but his mind is pretty blank right now, so sleep probably isn't all that far off.
"You really like it?"
"Usually sore the next day or two after something like that, but yeah. Really, really, words can't describe it, good."
She rolls a little, her chin resting on his chest, looking up at him. He can feel her do it, imagine it in his mind, because his eyes, stubborn little things, just aren't getting around to opening.
"Would you like to do it to me?"
"What do you mean? I've done this to you." And he has. He's spun her out so hard she's been sobbing before she gets off.
"Not all of it."
His mind flails around for a moment, trying to find the missing piece, and finally, with a grinding clunk of a gear crashing into place, he figures out what she's talking about.
"I've honestly never thought about it."
"No?" she sounds really surprised.
He shakes his head, or at least thought about it. It's entirely possible it moved a fraction of an inch. "You don't have a prostate, and, at least for me, the penetration part ranges from pretty uncomfortable to just blah. Never thought it'd be worth it for you."
"Oh."
She's quiet, thinking about that. He feels like his brain is starting to wake up a little, but his body doesn't have the energy to do much besides lay there and breathe.
"Wouldn't you like to be on the doing end of it?"
"Wouldn't mind, but, just, never something I thought much about. You let me tie you up, spin you out, touch every inch of you, worship your body, and you do the same for mine, so... um... yeah, it's just not something I've really spent a lot of time thinking about. If I've got a list of things I fantasize about, that's awfully low."
"Oh."
"But, if you want to, I'm game... Well, not right this second. I don't think I could get an erection if my life depended on it right now, let alone move, but say next weekend..."
"Yeah, I'd like that."
Next
They'd slept in, laid around, he'd gotten some good writing done, and she'd gone to see Kayla Vance, school was out, but they still kept seeing each other for a few hours every week.
After that, dinner at home, a little TV, and then bedtime, early bedtime. (Okay, obscenely early bedtime, it was seven thirty.)
The rope had started at the upper left post on the bed. It was black, silk, the sort of thing used to tie up baroque curtains. (McGee had found it at a decorator's supply store. They'd been looking for fabric for curtains, didn't find any they liked, but did end up with a supply of new ropes in a lot of interesting colors.) It's one end was tied firmly and allowed to dangle into a soft and shiny tassel. From there it looped around McGee's left wrist, also tied firmly, and he grasped the few inches of slack rope between the bed post and his hand. It spiraled down his arm, around his chest and stomach, snaking from the small of his back to his right leg, spiraling from there down to yet another secure knot around his ankle, and one last knot tying that ankle to the lower left bedpost.
He's waiting. Abby tied him up, and left. She's been gone about fifteen minutes, so probably getting into costume, or maybe just making him sweat a little, possibly both.
Doesn't matter, he's comfortable, eager, and feeling good.
His right hand is free, so he's slowly stroking himself. Not trying to get off or anything, just keeping his interest level high.
She comes back, and he smiles at her. She's in heels, stockings, a black silk corset, and a lace choker. Her hair's back in a bun, and she's got her eyes painted black and smoked out.
She's not smiling. She reaches down and slaps his hand, hard. "Bad, McGee. I want your dick touched, I'll do it myself."
A second later his right hand is handcuffed to the right bed post, and he's stretched out as far as he goes. This is less comfortable, quite a bit more exposed, and he really likes it, and hopes she'll take pictures. He can see the dichotomy of the silk and the cuffs in his mind, but because of his position on the bed he can only see one arm at a time, and he'd like to see the whole thing laid out at once.
She kneels between his legs, one hand on each of his hips, and slowly, delicately, the flat of her tongue flush on the inside of his leg, licks from the crease of his knee to his left testicle.
His eyes close and a long slow breath escapes. She's mouthing it, rubbing her lips and tongue over it, and then takes it in her mouth to suck gently. He's trying to thrust, but can't really, not with the way she's pinning his hips.
So he's squirming in a very pleased sort of way, watching her through heavily lidded eyes, tingling all over from the pleasure, and she pulls back, grinning. Her fingers rest lightly on his hipbones.
"I want your hips to stay still."
His hips go still.
She stands up and fetches a pillow and the bottle of lube. Placing them next to his hips. Oh yeah, he knows where this is going and his dick twitches in anticipation, looking forward to her wet, soft mouth on it.
She doesn't get back on the bed. Instead she walks around it to her side, and her nightstand and opens their toy box. He knows what lives in there, and his eyes light up even further. She gets one of the vibrators. It's a small, fairly slim one, so, oh yeah, she's going to use it on him.
Vibrator, lube, pillow under his hips. Just thinking about that is making him even harder.
"Hips up."
He complies and she tucks the pillow, folded in half, under him. Then she trails her fingers down his left leg, nails scraping gently, tickling his foot.
"Can you keep this leg still?"
He thinks about it. If she wants his hips still, he'll have a much easier time of that with both legs tied. But if part of this is about the challenge of it, then keeping it free ramps that up further.
"Is the vibrator going to go in me or on me?"
"Both."
His mouth goes dry at that, and he swallows hard. That's something they don't do all that often, but when she does do it to him, it gets him off so hard his whole body shakes for minutes after. "Probably not."
Abby kisses his ankle and smiles at him quickly, and then fetches another rope to tie his left leg down. When she finishes he tugs a little at the binding, and it's good and secure. He's not going anywhere.
She climbs onto the bed, looking sleek and dangerous, perfect in gothic black. For a moment she just kneels there, between his legs, letting him look at her, corset tight, breasts high and round, legs in silk stockings and no panties.
He wants to talk, but she hasn't said he can, so he just looks, and hopes his eyes get how much he's enjoying this across.
Then she shimmies up his body, stroking his legs, hips, thighs, testicles, skipping over his dick, to rub his stomach and chest. She licks his neck, nibbles his ear, and says, "I don't remember saying that you were allowed to start without me."
True enough. She also hadn't said he couldn't either. But, moot point. This is all part of the game, and he's eager to play.
She rises up on her knees, balancing her weight on one leg while the other straddles his neck and hooks under his shoulder and arm. Her weight shifts, settling her pussy inches from his mouth.
He wants to lick, wants to suck, wants to revel in her taste, but she hasn't told him to yet, so he holds still. He inhales deeply, enjoying her scent, and keeps his eyes open so he can look. Nothing on earth more beautiful than Abby's pussy. Nothing.
"Like what you see?"
"Love it."
"Want to taste?"
"Yes. Please."
She lowers herself, just brushing against his lips, teasing him with her body and her control. He doesn't move, because she hasn't told him to, yet, but he wants to.
"You may kiss me."
Thank you. And he does, lips stroking along her skin, tongue skimming wet flesh. She's rolling gently against him, a slow easy stroke that he's got no problem keeping up with. He matches his speed to her hips, taking his cues from how her body moves, and wishes he had at least one hand free so he could add his fingers to the mix.
But he can't, so he doesn't. He rolls her clit with his tongue, keeping up a steady pressure and speed, letting her set the pace.
She's moaning, rich, easy sounds, almost lazy, definitely not sated.
She leans back, grabs the vibrator, and begins to use it on herself while he licks. Using it the way he'd use his fingers, adding some slide, some stretch, a little pressure to the g-spot. She doesn't turn it on, which he appreciates because having his tongue buzzing would be distracting.
Her eyes drift shut, and she plays with one nipple while stroking herself, and he licks, pressing harder, keeping up as her hips roll faster. Her breath, moans, pitch all increase, and he enjoys it, feeling her get wetter, move faster, more turned on against his mouth, making him harder, making him want to thrust along, though he doesn't. He keeps his hips still, and refocuses on his lips and tongue, on getting her off hard and fast and pleasing his lady.
She's moving faster, jerking, less coordinated, and he's having a harder time keeping his tongue where it belongs. But he does, or well enough she doesn't complain, and in a minute he hears her switch from moans to a soft, Ohhh sound, one he knows means her orgasm is seconds away.
And then her body is rippling against his tongue as her thighs twitch. He stops licking and just presses his tongue to her, holding still, knowing how sensitive her clit is right after she gets off.
She rests for a few seconds, and then shifts off of him, leaning down, kissing him, licking his lips, tasting herself, and then passing that taste back to him. "Thank you. That took the edge off nicely. Now, McGee, what to do for you..."
She kneels between his legs and starts by just tracing her fingers up his inner thighs. He wants to sigh. What she's doing feels nice, but he still hasn't been given permission to make noise, so he stays quiet.
She starts to lick, soft, wet, hot, up his left thigh. And he wants to move. He wants to sort of roll his hips, nudge her just a bit to... Oh, yeah, there. She's cupped his balls and pulled them a bit to the side, tonguing the crease where his leg meets his body.
He wants to thrust, to press up against her, just get a little more pressure and maybe, if he could get her just an inch over, because, right there, under his balls, oh god, yeah, that's just God please Abby just right there!
It's the most perfect frustration ever. That whole area is exquisitely sensitive, but it's not his dick. He wants to ripple and roll against her, pull her mouth onto him, fuck her frantically, thrusting hard and fast. And he can't. He's keeping his hips still as she laps at his perineum and strokes his balls.
"Talk to me; tell me how you feel."
"If you don't fuck me, I'm going to die!" Okay, he's not quite there, yet, but part of the fun of the game is being able to say whatever he wants. And he wants to say things like that, wants to put himself entirely in her hands.
"Not yet, baby, not yet." Her hands stroke over his hips and thighs. "You can take more of this. In fact..." He hears the click of the lube bottle opening, and knows what's coming next.
"Oh, God, please, yes." That might do it. He figured out years ago, after a lot of reading, that exploring certain less easily accessible areas of his anatomy might result in very good things. And result in good things it did. What he doesn't know is if he can get off from prostate stimulation alone. He's never tried.
But right now, as she's gently slicking him up, and slowly stretching him out, he's really hoping it can, because if he doesn't get off soon, he's going to go mad.
He doesn't love this part of it. He's tight, that's just how he's built, so loosening up isn't something that comes naturally, but what comes next, that's worth it, well, well worth it.
And, God, her tongue, lapping gently on his balls, making them try to crawl into his body, making him want to come so hard, and her fingers, gently easing the way, slipping and sliding into him, making sure this won't hurt, he was so ready when he felt the cool plastic of the vibrator slip into him.
She sort of swirls it, angling up and gently pressing. His head is back, and he yells, "Fuck! Oh God, please, fuck!" He can feel it all the way from the base of his spine to his balls and down both his legs.
"Abby!"
"You're okay. I'm gonna take care of you."
And, oh God, he's never ever been this turned on and not come.
Her tongue is fast. The vibrator is slow. Slowly easing in and out, slowly buzzing in him. Slowly, or maybe not too slowly, driving him into a wet puddle of insane lust.
He realizes he can't get off if no one is touching his dick. He suddenly knows this for a fact. She can spin him out as long as she wants, keeping him just on the verge of getting off, but as long as she doesn't touch him there, there's no shot of accidentally getting him off.
"Oh, God, Abby, you're killing me."
She held her hand just above his dick, and he can feel the heat of her palm. Don't move your hips. And he doesn't, but he's certainly trying to see if he can get that little muscle at the base of his pelvis to twitch hard enough to at least brush against her palm.
"That's the idea, McGee."
He twitches and almost touches her. She shakes her head. "Bad, bad, Timmy. Nobody's touching your dick anytime soon, I'm afraid." She leans over and blows on it. Hot, moist air, making his hands and feet clench.
Oh, God, that was almost enough. "Please, do that again."
"No. Just trust me; I won't push you further than you can go. But you can go for a good long time." She twists the vibrator, upping the speed, runs slick fingers over his perineum, and goes back to sucking his balls. He wants to buck up at her, thrust into anything, hell the air, just move, just feel, just make that little wand move faster or harder, or just a little more something, anything to get him off.
"Please, Abby, please, please. Just touch it, just a little, please, baby."
Tim is an excellent submissive, especially for someone who isn't one by nature. Some people need to have someone else take charge, make all the decisions, control the encounter, and take care of them. But Tim doesn't need that, he just likes it. He loves laying back and letting Abby take charge. Putting his pleasure entirely in her hands is a treat. But, he also likes being the one in charge, and if anything, he actually leans more to the dominant side than the submissive one.
So, the fact that, as of this point he has never, ever broken a command is something he's proud of. If this was baseball and he was a pitcher, he'd have a perfect no hit career.
But right now all he can think about is how, if he could just move his hips a little, if he could just possibly thrust just the tiniest bit, he could maybe rub up against her nose or hair or something and just please, God, please, get off.
He's pulling hard on the ropes and the cuff, trying to divert that desire to thrust to his arms, yanking on the bed, anything to try and hold his control as she swirls her tongue around him and turns the speed on the vibrator up even faster.
"God, baby, you're really going to kill me. Just please, touch it, just a little, please."
"Oh, I think you can take a little more."
"Noooo..." he moans.
Abby stops. That sounded enough like real pain that she's worried. She scoots up, takes his face in her hands, and says, "You still remember your safeword?"
He nods. He doesn't smile, can't quite smile right now because, God, he wants to come, and that's pretty much shot his ability to reassure her to hell and gone. But he's still got his safeword in his mind, and he knows he can stop this anytime. Just say her name and it'll be done. But he won't. He can do this. He trusts her not to push him further than he can go.
She kisses him sweetly and then slides back down his body. She's sucking his testicles gently as her fingers press his prostate from the one side and the vibrator gets it from the other.
God what she's doing makes him feel like he's coming, but he's not. There's a small pool on his stomach from the drops of pre cum she's coaxing out of him, and his cock's so hard it feels ready to burst, and she still won't stroke it.
Head back, groaning, he pulls on the bedposts again, past words, past any thought but the desire to come.
Then she touched him. Wet, slick hand, two strokes and he was gone, climaxing so hard he couldn't see, riding an arc of pleasure that felt like it was going to consume him.
He heard a loud pop and suddenly everything on his left arm went loose. For a second he thought he might have dislocated his shoulder, but nothing hurt, and once he figured that out nothing else mattered. He just lay there, limp, boneless, completely exhausted and twitching.
She got the vibrator out of him fast, what feels excellent before getting off is really painful once he does. And a few seconds after that she's cut the ropes and uncuffed him. He curls into a little ball on his side, something that always feels good after he comes hard tied spread eagle, and continues to shudder.
She curls against his back, and soothingly strokes his arm and leg.
"You okay?"
He nods and lets her hold him, quietly waiting for his body to recover. He stops shaking after a few minutes. Something about this combination does that to him. It has to be tied up, spun out, and anal, any two of the three doesn't result in him curled in a cum spattered ball, exhausted, shuddering, and high as a kite on endorphins. But all three together... Well, asking if he still remembered his safeword wasn't an idle question, he's been far enough gone in the past that he's forgotten it.
When he stops shaking and begins to uncurl, Abby sits up, untying the rope from his wrist, unwinding it from his arm. He doesn't feel like sitting up, so she doesn't bother to try and get it off his torso. She undoes the knots on both of his ankles, and comes back with a warm damp washcloth.
He lays there, eyes closed, not sleeping, but very peaceful as she wipes his hair, neck, shoulder, and chest.
"That feels good."
"You're definitely going to want to wash your hair in the morning."
"Thanks for aiming this time." The first time they had done this, he'd ended up giving himself a facial, which wasn't a turn on for either of them. "Right when I got off, something popped. What was it?"
 |
| Before it broke. |
That got Tim to open his eyes. He turned to look at the left bedpost and saw that it was indeed no longer attached to the bed, and that Abby must have propped it against the wall when she got the washcloth.
For a second he just stared at it, and then said, "You didn't say I couldn't move my arms."
"True." She smiles, looking at joint where the bedpost came free from the bed.
Tim sits up and fingers the break. "I would have thought the rope would have gone before the bedpost."
"Apparently it's a good rope. Not so good bedpost."
"Looks like the screw pulled loose and it broke from there."
She nods. "Wrought iron for the next bed?"
"Are you going to do that to me again?"
"I intend to."
"Yeah, wrought iron. Steel if they make them." He untangles the rope from the rest of himself, and grabs the washcloth, he can feel there's a wet spot on his shoulder that she didn't get, and a long smear on his knee and thigh from when he pulled into a ball. He debates getting up and really washing off, but right now all he really wants to do is just lay there and tingle, floating on a cloud of oxytocin.
So he does.
Abby undresses, takes her hair down, and curls into his right side, head on his shoulder.
"Thank you."
"For what?" he says. If anyone is going to be giving thanks, he figures that it should be him.
"Letting me do that to you. Letting me see you like that. You look so amazing when you come."
He smiles a little, eyes drifting shut. He kisses the top of her head, inhales deeply, enjoying her scent, and the feel of her breath on his shoulder.
"It looks really intense."
If he had been a little less post-orgasmic-blissed-out, he might have caught on sooner as to where this was going, but he felt like his brain was only tangentially attached to the rest of him at that moment, so he didn't quite get where this might be going.
"Yeah, it really is." He kisses the top of her head again. "Made me see stars. Literal stars. Vision blacking out and white pinpricks."
He's breathing deeply. Not on the verge of sleep, this is more like meditation than sleep, but his mind is pretty blank right now, so sleep probably isn't all that far off.
"You really like it?"
"Usually sore the next day or two after something like that, but yeah. Really, really, words can't describe it, good."
She rolls a little, her chin resting on his chest, looking up at him. He can feel her do it, imagine it in his mind, because his eyes, stubborn little things, just aren't getting around to opening.
"Would you like to do it to me?"
"What do you mean? I've done this to you." And he has. He's spun her out so hard she's been sobbing before she gets off.
"Not all of it."
His mind flails around for a moment, trying to find the missing piece, and finally, with a grinding clunk of a gear crashing into place, he figures out what she's talking about.
"I've honestly never thought about it."
"No?" she sounds really surprised.
He shakes his head, or at least thought about it. It's entirely possible it moved a fraction of an inch. "You don't have a prostate, and, at least for me, the penetration part ranges from pretty uncomfortable to just blah. Never thought it'd be worth it for you."
"Oh."
She's quiet, thinking about that. He feels like his brain is starting to wake up a little, but his body doesn't have the energy to do much besides lay there and breathe.
"Wouldn't you like to be on the doing end of it?"
"Wouldn't mind, but, just, never something I thought much about. You let me tie you up, spin you out, touch every inch of you, worship your body, and you do the same for mine, so... um... yeah, it's just not something I've really spent a lot of time thinking about. If I've got a list of things I fantasize about, that's awfully low."
"Oh."
"But, if you want to, I'm game... Well, not right this second. I don't think I could get an erection if my life depended on it right now, let alone move, but say next weekend..."
"Yeah, I'd like that."
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