Claire's breasts played peek-a-boo in the bubble bath, her coffee-colored aureoles poking out of the froth. Beside her tub sat Danny, wearing only his navy jockey shorts.
"Please," he said, massaging her wet shoulders.
"I don't know." Claire's lips were maroon, like her fingernails, a shock against her pale skin. Her black hair was bobbed short, Cleopatra-style, all blunt edges and thick bangs.
Leaning into the tub, kissing both her café au lait nipples, Danny said, "You promised."
Claire's green eyes ran over his smooth muscled chest, up to his spiky blond hair that was dark at the roots. Inwardly she winced at the piercing on his right eyebrow, which she knew must have hurt, like the tribal tattoo that encircled his left upper arm.
"A little persuasion?" Danny's hand dipped below the bubbles to stroke her inner thigh. At 28, he was two years younger than Claire, but more patient than most older men she'd known. "You're going to love it."
Both licensed masseuse and physical trainer, Danny was attuned to Claire's body like no previous man. "Have I ever lied to you?" he asked, as beneath the water, his talented fingers skimmed her sex.
Claire's pointy breasts bobbed among the bubbles; her thighs relaxed and spread.
"Haven't I always steered you well?" He made a circle around her clit.
"But I worry," she objected, in spite of her now-pulsing nub, "about the darker urges in all of us."
"You couldn't be safer," Danny vowed, letting his fingertip graze her clit.
"It's not easy giving up control," she said. "Letting someone else have power over your physical self -- "
Danny's hand withdrew from the bath, and he reached for a towel. "People let me order them around every day," he joked. "Come on, honey. Why don't you get out of the tub?"
Claire rose, and he enveloped her with the towel, patting dry the tiny rivulets that flowed over her hips.
"I make my clients do reps while they cry out for mercy." Danny drew her close for a kiss. "Doesn't that count for control?"
"Not exactly." Claire hugged the terrycloth around her shoulders. At five foot one, she just reached Danny's chin.
"Let me relax you." His tattooed arm gestured toward the bedroom. "I'll light the candles."
Votive candles stood on Claire's night tables and bureau. Still wrapped in the towel, she sank onto the foot of her mattress between two oaken bedposts and watched Danny set her room aglow.
"Let's just lie down together." His toned body moved toward her, golden in the candlelight.
"Okay," she said, as he placed a strong hand on her shoulder.
Tenderly, Danny unwrapped the towel and helped her lie down. Claire's buttocks felt moist on her satin bedspread. Stretching out beside her, she thought Danny's body looked like a sculpture, broad shouldered, narrow hipped, abdomen concave from weight training.
"Give it a try." Danny reached for her hand; his thick lips kissed the underside of her wrist. His tongue trailed along the soft white flesh toward the inner crease of Claire's elbow.
"I-I'm not sure, Danny," she stammered. "It-it's just that I-I never -- "
"Don't worry about that." He kissed the hollow of her throat, the side of her neck, her ear lobe. Then, before she could speak, his strong fingers clasped her wrist, raised it up to her head -- next to her shiny, chin-length black hair -- and pinned it down to the mattress.
Claire's breath caught, but this wouldn't be the first new thing she'd let Danny try. Over the last three months -- despite the trickle of shame that had tinged their exploits -- she'd felt thrilled by his sex games.
"Trust me," he said.
Lying back against the green satin bedclothes, her wrist held fast in his hand, she murmured, "I don't know."
Danny's free hand grasped Claire's second wrist, carefully raised and pinned it down too.
"I'm going to take such good care of you."
"Danny!" Wriggling, she tested the strength of his grip.
His fingers tightening, he added just enough force to keep her wrists in place.
Claire's hands went limp; his relaxed around them. "I could hold you here forever."
"No way." She thrashed her legs as he rolled on top of her.
"I could hold you hostage if I wanted." His voice was soft, his mouth close to her ear.
"But you'd never do that." Her slender legs flailed, but his muscled thighs were too heavy to kick off.
Then Danny's broad chest pressed Claire's petite one; his outstretched hands held hers down. His mouth fell on hers, his tongue aggressive while -- her legs still thrashing -- she kissed back.
Then all at once Danny lept off her, his erection poking up his jockey shorts. He left the room while Claire wondered what had just happened. A moment later, he returned with some black silk scarves. "You know I'd never do anything we didn't both agree with," he said, stretching a scarf between his hands.
Still lying on the bed, looking up at Danny, Claire heard herself mutter, "Tell me exactly what you'd do."
Stroking her cheek with a scarf, he gestured toward the bed's oaken headboard, inset with a row of posts.
"I see." She bit her lip.
"I'd never hurt you." He set the scarves aside and knelt at the end of the mattress to lift her foot by the heel. Claire's foot was small and white with maroon toenails. His tongue tasted her arched instep; he sucked each of her toes. Then Danny kissed Claire's ankle, her calf, and the inside of her knee.
"Do me first," he suddenly said.
"Really?" She sat up. Her eyes found the scarves at the foot of the mattress.
"Do it." Broad chested, bulky thighed, and strapping, Danny spread out on her bed.
"Place me any way you like."
Claire hesitated only a moment before rising to collect the scarves. "Uh, could you, uh, I mean, put your head there?" she asked, pointing to a spot near the headboard. "No wait, please. Could you take off your underpants first?"
Danny pulled down his jockey shorts, and his erection sprung out. Completely naked, he placed his head where she'd indicated.
Claire couldn't help but giggle, and she dangled a silk scarf over his swollen cock that stuck straight up. Sliding the fabric along his shaft, she tickled his prominent pulsing vein and feathered his curly brown pubic hair. Danny smiled, raising both arms over his head, his biceps and shoulders bulging. He positioned his wrists close to the posts in the headboard and waited.
A moment later, Claire crawled up the satin bedclothes and, pursing her wine red lips, tied one scarf securely around Danny's meaty wrist. She tested the knot and attached the other end to the headboard. Danny's arm stretched long, his shoulder beside his ear, his underarm exposed. On impulse, Claire kissed him there, where his hair grew wild and shaving was unnecessary for a man. Who decided these things? she wondered, shifting her gaze to his jaw, realizing he must have shaved a second time that day to be so smooth-skinned for her.
Touched by this effort, reminded of the many other things Danny did to please her, Claire kissed the underside of his free wrist, as he'd done to her earlier. Then, gaining momentum, she bound it taut to a varnished post. With a pang in her chest that surprised her, Claire sat back to survey Danny's tanned chest with its pumped pectorals, his nipples nestled pink and innocent among a few sparse hairs. Then her gaze traveled down his abs, cut with three vertical lines, to his bulky quadriceps and calves. There, at the foot of the bed, were two oaken posts; should she bind his ankles too?
"Go on," Danny encouraged.
Claire took one large foot and moved it to the corner. Then she wrapped a black scarf twice around Danny's thick ankle. Glancing at his erection, straining taller now and redder, she looped the free end of the scarf around the bedpost and pulled the sleek material tight.
Leaning forward to let her breasts brush Danny's stiff prick, she said, "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm going to take good care of you."
His hooked cock strained toward her; she ran one fingertip, with its long dark-red nail, down the inside of his chunky bound thigh. Next she pressed his free thigh into a straddle, sliding her hands down his calf, grasping his thick-boned ankle. Using another black silk scarf, she tethered his ankle tight to the post. Sitting in the V of Danny's spread legs, Claire breathed on his flagpole erection. The eye at the head opened to emit a single tear, and her maroon mouth licked it off.
"Mmm," his throat let out a low rumble.
"Not yet," she said.
Lying down beside Danny, resting her cheek on his beefy thigh, Claire watched his veined cock twitch. No man had ever made himself so vulnerable with her, she thought. A mild, sweet ache poured down the front of her body, flooding her skin, reddening her cheeks, and making it hard to breathe.
"Everything okay?" Danny asked, lifting his head as much as he could.
Claire kissed his thigh for an answer. Stretching her naked body beside his bound one, Claire let her nipples brush his leg; she let her narrow strip of her dark pubic hair caress his tethered ankle.
"Are you really tied?" Her eyes swept over his spread eagle body. "I mean, could you break free if you wanted to?"
Danny jerked his arms, gave a few experimental kicks with his feet. "I think you got me."
"Yeah." She reached up to touch his spiky hair, and the liquid ache poured through her again, chest to stomach, stomach to pelvis.
"You can do anything to me now," he said.
"Yeah?" Claire took a long black silk scarf and folded it lengthwise into a narrow band. She brought the band to Danny's head and pressed it flat against his eyes.
"Hey!" He jerked, pushing the scarf off. "Why are you doing that?"
"Shh." She backed off until he'd settled and then moved forward again to kiss his smooth shaven jaw. "Because I can." She laid the scarf over his eyes, pressing firmly this time, expecting his resistance.
Danny's head twisted from side to side as she tied the silk. "Come on," he said. "Play fair."
"Hush, don't tell me what to do." Claire heard herself respond, standing back to survey her handiwork.
There was Danny, a human X on her bed, blindfolded, his wrist and ankles bound to the bedposts. At his groin his reddened prick shot up, pointing to the ceiling, ready. "Come on," he whined.
Danny's distended, purple head cried another viscous tear, and Claire's sex pulsed a moist response. A rush of tenderness came as she knelt between his thighs, kissing their firm inner flesh. "I'm on my way, baby," she whispered to his cock. "But I'm moving slow."
A growl came from Danny's throat.
"I know, baby, I know." Claire's mouth breathed onto his balls. "I'm going to lick," she demonstrated with a wide, wet tongue, "and suck." Oh, so gently she took one ball into her mouth.
After a moment, the fierce rumble in Danny's throat became a lion's purr. On her knees before his cock, pressure rose in Claire's chest that felt akin to awe. Her maroon mouth kissed his swollen shaft. Her tongue opened wide and flat, licking from the base to the bursting head, till his cock felt slippery all over. Then she snaked a finger beneath his balls, flitting over the sensitive strip from scrotum to anus, teasing the dark tight hole.
Claire's clit pulsed as her mouth tasted Danny's shape, as she sucked so deep that his hooked head brushed the back of her throat. But when his cock got dangerously thick, she stopped.
"Don't speak," she warned.
Her chest ached to see his blindfolded head nod agreement, to see his burly arms and legs lying docile in their restraints. Tenderness welled in her throat, and after a moment her lips returned to his prick, now so red it was nearly purple. Her mouth encompassed his shaft; her thumb and forefinger encircled the base. She sucked while her body went shaky, streaming with lust. She kept an erratic rhythm, pausing purposely now and then until Danny pleaded with her in a strange sobbing voice. Then her inner core melted; she sucked till his cock exploded. As Danny's sticky sweet juice filled her mouth, Claire sincerely hoped he'd tie her up the next time.
Originally published March 2006 - "Straight Lines and Sexy Curves"