Imagine

Her hands sliding over his shoulders spreading the oil, her fingers slippery, kneading the tightness from his strong muscles. He can feel the weight of her on the back of his thighs, sense each time she leans forward to reach his shoulders. His thighs trapped between hers, their flesh pressed together. As she stretches forward he can feel the heat from her body as she nears his back, the electricity passes from her to him as her extended nipples brush the muscles of his powerful back.

His back feels rock hard. His shoulders are broad and chiseled. She enjoys sliding her hands in the oil she's applied to him. She's enjoying extending her body up his and letting her breasts slide up his oily back. She's getting warmed between her legs from the heat of his body. Erotic thoughts brimming to the surface of her mind make her moist. She's laughing light-heartedly. He's having so much trouble just relaxing and letting her rub on him. He keeps craning his neck to look at her. He's always watching her when they're together. She's bends over and kisses him warmly and whispers for him to close his eyes and relax or else she just might have to blindfold him. He laughs at her. She probably would too.

His arms move from above his head where they were resting, to extend down his flanks. His fingers searching for her behind him, they brush across her knees. She continues to press her fingers into his muscles as she watches his fingers move lightly up from her knees to her thighs, his arms are fully extended, she knows his searching fingers cannot get closer to her. Again she leans forward and brushes against his oily skin, whispering in his ear "you are being a naughty boy, be still and relax" he moans deeply as her forward motion allows his fingers to run up her inner thigh.

Her hands stop the massage and grip his wrists, she holds both his wrists in one hand and leans away from his body. He could easily free himself if he wished, her long fingers may be strong but not strong enough to hold him, he lies still, wondering what it is that she is doing. He hears the clink of metal against metal as her weight moves back above him, the click click click of a ratchet opening and then the cold hard steel against his wrist. Before she has a chance to close the handcuff about his wrist he rolls his whole body beneath her so he is facing upwards, the oil making him slippery between her thighs, the unexpected motion unbalances her and she drops his hands and the cuffs as she tries to steady herself. His speed took her by surprise and his momentum continues as he rolls her off him and on to the bed until her slight body is crushed, in the most delectable way, beneath his massive frame.

Before she has a chance to orientate herself with their final resting place, he has taken the cuffs and her wrists and brought the two together. As her giggles subside she realizes that in the commotion he now has her hands cuffed together and his muscled arms either side of her face hold her entrapped hands above her head, she cannot free herself and as the excitement builds deep within her she realises she doesn't want to yet.

He looks down at her, his head directly above hers as his outstretched arms support him, casting shadows across her face. His blue eyes pierce into her hazelnut ones and she is sure he can see deep into her soul as his eyes come closer to hers. Her tongue flashes across her full lips in anticipation, leaving them glistening in the afternoon sunlight. Slowly his face moves towards hers, she can feel the heat of his breath on her face and her head lifts subconsciously to meet his lips with hers. After the faintest touch of their lips he moves down her body, his face stays within an inch of her and she can feel his breath burning her skin. His arms slide down the bed following the contour of her body, never touching but for the hairs tickling her skin.

His breath breezes through the valley between her breasts, her chest rising and falling as her heart beats strongly. She wants his lips on her breasts but he continues to move down her body.

He inhales deeply, drawing her scent deep into his lungs, she smells fresh but for the hint of oil now on her body. As his lips continue downward, she can't let them leave without her rock hard nipples getting some attention, her desire drives her to move her cuffed hands down to grab his hair and push his face in to her breasts, as she starts to move her hands they stop suddenly, her mind reels for a moment as she tries to understand why she cannot get some simple satisfaction for her aching breasts...her hands are restrained not only to each other but the cuffs are looped behind the headboard stopping her movements.

As realisation dawns upon her, fear flashes through her mind, knowing she is trapped and cannot move. The fear deep in the pit of her stomach turns to burning desire between her thighs as she realises he has control over her body now, she looks down and sees his eyes looking back at her, a mischievous twinkle in them and the very corners of his mouth are raised in the tiniest smile, he knows what is going through her mind as he again raises high above her, dominant in his pose, in the knowledge that she is his to do with as he pleases.

She is scared for just a moment, then a little ashamed that she is so turned on, never having been subservient with a lover like this before. The look in his eye reassures her as he towers above her, she is sure he will stop if she wants him to...won't he?

Again his face drops towards hers, his lips press hard against hers, almost pushing her deeper in to the mattress she lays upon. As her withdraws, that smile at the edge of his mouth is there again. He leans away from her and she feels relief in her legs as his weight, which she hadn't previously noticed, is lifted momentarily from her thighs. His hands come back into view and they are holding the bottle of oil that she had so expertly been using on the powerful muscles that now control her. There is more, he has something else that she can't quite discern, a piece of cloth, a neck tie perhaps... he stretches the cloth out in front of her and almost in slow motion it descends to cover those beautiful eyes, he lifts her head and ties the cloth to disable her, now she can't move and can't see.

His weight lifts from her body, she can hear him moving around but cannot see what he is doing, fear again runs through her followed by a flood of anticipation and excitement. She can sense him close now. He stands over the prone body of the object of his desire, her hands restrained above her head lead to strong defined arms, he can see the muscles in her shoulders taught due to her position, her slender neck stretched as she moves her head trying to figure out what is going on around her.

The soft mounds of her breasts pulled tight to her body, topped by nipples straining away from her skin. He licks his lips, tasting their last kiss one more time, as his eyes follow her flat stomach down.

A click of the plastic cap on the oil is the only indication to her as to what was to follow but before she could determine what the noise was the cold oil was drizzled over her stomach and breasts as if by a chef making an exquisite dish.

She curses him with a yelp; the oil from the bottle is icy cold on her skin which has been warmed by the sun streaming through the window and by the flush of excitement coursing through her body. Her skin tingles now as the clod subsides, nerve endings heightened by the lack of visual sense she can feel the oil running over her body, like a mountain stream it runs off her breasts, pooling at her belly button. His first touch sends shivers of cold and exhilaration through her, his finger tips become warm almost immediately as he toys with the puddle of oil, spreading it wider and wider in ever increasing circles whose epicentre is her belly button.

His fingers sweep around her stomach, her hips, brushing the edge of her pubic hair and up to the swell of the underside of her breasts. Each time his fingers leave her body it becomes chilled, her skin is raised in goose bumps, the tiny hairs on her arms all stand away from her just as her nipples do, surround at their base by the dark areola crinkled and contracted. His fingers spread until she can feel his hands now upon her, his palms bring warmth as they spread the oil. Now his hands are on her, his fingers begin to press against her supple flesh, kneading the oil into her skin, massaging her fears away as she begins to relax into the motion. He moves up her sides, over her ribs, always rubbing, always kneading and spreading his warmth throughout her.

Her needs begin to override her relaxed state as he nears her breasts and as his hands smooth the oil across them for the first time, grazing her nipples, she moans deeply. He can sense her desire, her body is responding to his touch, he wants to see how far he can torment her and so his hands begin their circling again. This time he is focused on her beautiful breasts, he kneads a little then circles them again, his fingers go to the edge of her areola and then away again, teasing her, making her think he is going to touch her wanting nipples. Circling and kneading and circling, she starts to wriggle beneath him trying to move herself into the right place beneath his fingers. At this sign of independence, he withdraws his hands from her and whispers so softly she can barely hear it "naughty, naughty, stay still now or I might have to leave you here alone until you can behave"

The blindfold has not only affected her eyes, for some inexplicable reason she is unable to speak also, unable to protest his statement or demand satisfaction for the burning in her nipples. His fingers return to her body, she jolts with his touch and moves to position herself again. He immediately withdraws, "tusk, tusk" his only words as the room falls silent.

She waits for his strong hands to return to her body, waits and waits laying still so as to please her new master. Her ears strain to hear, is he still there in the room? Has he left her tied like this, what if someone else came in, how will she get free...panic builds in her until she hears the soft steps of him on the carpet. She relaxes and lays motionless. "Time for your master to eat" is his only salutation until she feels the frosty cold against her lips. She opens her mouth tentatively and tastes the cold ice cream as it dribbles on to her tongue from the chilled spoon. The spoon is gone as fast as it arrived and is replaced by the rough skin of a strawberry, she nibbles the smallest piece from its end and the sweetness fills her mouth, ready to take another bite she opens her lips only to find the strawberry pulled away from her.

Disappointment fills her mind, she has no idea how long she has been in this position but now realizes that her throat is dry from her rapid breathing. Salvation for her throat arrives as the strawberry is returned and again a little nibble floods her mouth with juice, this time she is quicker to return for a second bite, not wanting to miss the opportunity. The second bite surprises her though, not just the slightly chilled coarse texture of the strawberry but the smoothness and warmth added to it by melted chocolate. He looks down upon her, her lips curled in a smile as she sucks the chocolate covered fruit into her mouth.

Her sampling the food is to reassure her while he eats; he wants to show her his strength but can't help his soft side not wanting to worry her too much.

Without warning the ice cream hits her breast, the sharp coldness makes her gasp and jump but he doesn't stop, she can feel the weight of the strawberry as it is placed atop the ice cream which has already started to melt and run in little rivulets down the soft slopes of her breast. He licks the sides of her breast as if eating the ice cream from a cone and catching the melting liquid as it runs down the outside. The cold of the ice cream is almost instantly replaced by the heat from the chocolate as it drips on to the strawberry. Tiny splashes as it lands on the strawberry, causing some of it to rest directly on her surrounding skin burning as if it were molten lava.

She can feel his breath on her breast, the cold of the ice cream heightens the thrill running through her as he breathes upon her just before his lips devour her. Lapping up the feast upon her breast, his tongue rough against her delicate skin, she moans in appreciation for the attention her breast is receiving. Her skin is still sticky when he pulls away, she wills him to finish the job and clean her up but it's not to be. She feels the melted chocolate drip onto her lips, instinctively she opens her mouth to accept the sweetness and is surprised to find her mouth filled with him, chocolate covered.

Hungrily she draws in him into her mouth, her tongue sliding all over him, licking the chocolate from him, her mind is filled with visions of what this looks like, a school girl with a popsicle...too soon her mouth is left with just the bitter sweet of the chocolate to enjoy, he is gone. The room falls silent again, she can't hear him moving, and she can't hear him breathing.

He sits back, surveying the beauty laid prone before him, her chest rising and falling with gusto, soiled with the remnants of his meal, her mouth framed with chocolate as if it were her lipstick smeared by kissing.

He takes the cold spoon from the ice cream, the milky hue upon it. He rests it on her one clean nipple, drawing it into her cleavage and running a frosty trail down her body. He can see her muscles tense as the cold passes over them, her stomach twitching under his control. The spoon continues its path, she is sure it is moving slower and slower the loser it gets. Her recently shaved pussy leaves her open and bare, the spoon rasps across the shaved surface, her now tuned senses picking up on things she had never before heard. Her body involuntarily recoils as the spoon touches her pussy lips.

Almost immediately her body pushes upwards to savour that that she just recoiled from, her subconscious mind now understanding the source of the immense cold and the sensations running wild throughout her body. She feels the spoon as it runs the length of her labia, down and back up and back down again only this second time it stops, pressing forward into her until its point opens her lips and the cold air penetrates her.

She wonders why he has stopped there, surely he wouldn't push that into her, he would know those sharp edges would hurt, has this game gone too far? As the invasion remains motionless she realizes it has turned even more chilly, a realization that comes too late for her to stop the ice cream from resting on the tip of the spoon, inside her!! As with her breast, the cold is replaced by the heat of a desert, or should that be dessert as molten chocolate floods against her.

The smoothness of the spoon is replaced by his rough tongue lapping against her, she's not sure if he is trying to lick the chocolate out from within her or push it deeper. His tongue now pulls away and something firmer pushes against her lips, its cold against her so she's sure it is not him, it parts her lips and she can feel the chocolate slowly running out of her. The intrusion is withdrawn and now she can taste chocolate against her mouth.

The force is insistent so she parts her pouting lips and her mouth is overrun with the taste of chocolate and strawberries and something else, a familiar taste but not one she can place until his lips cover hers and then he says "I love the way you taste, do you?" his tongue licks across her lips and dips into her fruit filled mouth.

He whispers again "You look thirsty." and she feels his weight atop her, pressing down on her chest, her breasts pushed up against his inner thighs. Once he is settled, she feels glass against her lips, naturally she opens her mouth, submissive to his will, assured that she is safe. Champagne trickles across her tongue and the remnants of chocolate, cream and strawberries is revitalized in her mouth.