The fibers of the rope slip through my fingers. Yesterday, it was still drying on the balcony stretched from one side to the other.
First machine wash at 30°C and then air dry under a little tension.
A little tension. A smile twitches across my lips. I swing out with my right hand and lightly stroke his inner thigh.
His eyes roll up and in a little bit.
I wonder what he sees there.
He breathes deeply through his mouth. Draws the air quickly past his epiglottis.
The air continues to rush through his trachea, deeper into his body, splitting at the bifurcation and filling the lungs’ alveoli.
His chest rises and he tries to pull his legs towards the middle of his body. He pauses in this movement.
His feet are fixed. Only dressed in the rope, he lies in front of me on the kitchen table. The remains of breakfast are still spread out in bed. The table, however, was free and unused. So why not?
My gaze wanders over his square nose, along his big lips. His chest hair attracts my attention by regularly swaying up and down with his chest. What should I do to him next?
I take a good look at his genital area. Try to imprint in my mind the course of the veins on his penis, to adapt my thoughts and movements to the flow of the vessels. The veins and his erectile tissue are filled, his penis is visibly erect. The foreskin is barely over his glans.
I like my role. And I ask if he feels okay about it. With a smile, he looks at me piercingly.
“Yes, very okay.”
Oh, those beautiful eyes. My gaze glides to his arms that touch the wall and are attached to the kitchen table above him. An aesthetic knot stretches between his hands and forearms.
The image of him lying in front of me, only sporadically covered by twisted fibers and held in place, turns me on. I can feel my vulva getting plump. The contrast between the natural surface of his skin and the artificiality of the rope attracts me. I want to be close to him, touch him. Feel the transition from hard fibers to soft skin.
I straighten up and look out of the big window that reaches from the floor to the ceiling. We are on the 3rd floor and the view is blocked by the house opposite. Probably someone is watching us from their living room right now.
Most likely it is more than one person.
The thought excites me and I smile mischievously. A movement down the street tears me out of my voyeuristic fantasies and a whole new idea emerges from it. Let’s see if this works.
“Do you think you’d feel comfortable if I blindfolded you?” I murmur in his ear.
Without further ado, I sit down on his belly and place my wet vulva on the skin under his navel. My bottom touches his cock and I suppress the desire to fuck him right away.
I press my pussy a little harder against his belly.
I wonder if he can feel my outer labia or just something moist. Warm. Plump.
“Sure, go ahead,” he agrees to my suggestion.
My lips move as if by magic in the direction of his and long for a passionate kiss. My tongue skims over his lower lip cheekily and asks for an audience, which he grants with a broad smile. Our tongues dance tightly entwined.
I feel individual papillae, which in turn blur into a mix of rough and soft.
My brain projects the wet touches onto my clitoris, and I notice how it tingles excitedly between my thighs. I continue to press my ass to his penis and my lips enclose his mouth. I carefully bite his lip and pull it away from him for a moment, clamped between my teeth. He laughs happily. Smiling comfortably, I fish my dark green cashmere sweater from the back of the chair.
He’s watching me.
“Would you like to take something a little less expensive?”
I nod, reach a little further to the right and have his old cotton shirt with the many holes in my hand and hold it up triumphantly.
“I hope your eyes will be covered despite the thousand holes,” I mock.
As I bend down toward him, I gently place the new blindfold on his neck and press it down firmly, tying off a very small playful bit of air.
A little less oxygen to the alveoli.
He breathes in audibly with his mouth open and lifts me up to the ceiling with his pelvis. Laughing, I put the bandage over his eyes and lean even further toward him. My lips invite him for a sensual kiss and while I put his tongue in my mouth, I knot the ends of his shirt behind his head.
“Is this comfortable?”
After I have blindfolded his eyes, I stand up carefully and turn on some soft music. He comments on it again with a grin and his penis twitches briefly upwards.
Silently I leave the kitchen and go to the front door.
I slowly and carefully push down the handle of the heavy wooden door and do not have to wait long. The beautiful woman, whose walk I immediately recognized down on the street, stomps up the last few steps.
I grin at her broadly and am very happy to see her again. Even before she can say anything, I whisper, “Happy Valentine’s Day! We’ve been waiting for you!”
She only answers with a broad grin, which could be due to my no…