I tie up my lover.

[My Tuesday night.]

He knocks at about 7:32. Nothing could have prepared me for what was going to come.

We decide to play poker. He is patient and sweet, reminding me of the goings on each deal. He feels like shit, he says. Maybe it’s food poisoning, but he’s here, so I don’t dwell on it too much. He asks if I mind that he deals each time. I say, “Not at all, why?”

“Well, some people might think I was sending a message that they weren’t any good at doing it themselves.”

“Yeah, maybe fucking insecure assholes. No, I’m happy to let you be in charge.”

And when I feel sufficiently comfortable with the rhythm of the game I ask to take over. At this point he seems to be feeling much better. I occasionally heft out a breast while I deal, he pulls out his magnificent cock, we put it all away. I pull out just one another time and he comes over and dares me to deal while he suckles on me, his whiskers lost in the pillow of my white flesh.

I tell him why I feel men are so beautiful and he leaps up and removes his shirt. “You mean you like this?” and he points at his broad shoulders and his narrow waist. I laugh and answer, yes. Pretend to be exasperated.

“Put your clothes back on for Christ’s sake. We have a game to play! By the way, I found something in my closet this weekend when I was cleaning it out. I think you’ll really like it.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not going to tell you. You’re not well and I’d rather demonstrate.”

He begs for a minute or two, but I remain firm.

My pile of chips grows as we discuss strategy. Generally, much as in life, I throw caution to the wind and play nearly any hand dealt me. It usually reaps rewards, but tonight he occasionally bluffs and I lose a significant amount. I remind myself to be cautious. How fitting.

Earlier in the night I told him that sex was not expected of him. We had a good laugh over that, but really, he wasn’t feeling well and I was happy to just hang out with him, but his mood and energy levels seemed to be improving by the hand. I am cautiously optimistic this night may not end with us clothed.

I put two cold chips on my nipples then two on his ball sack. I think I’m pretty hilarious.

And then, like a clock at midnight, it wasn’t the same anymore. Something shifted. And against his miniscule protestations he was standing before me and I was rubbing his cock, then on my knees. When I heft out his cock from his underwear I sigh and grip it lovingly, gratefully, in my hands. Memories from the night before with a smaller cock that was all wrong for me vanish.

I suck and stroke and gag myself on his erection. “Goddamn, I love your cock.”

“What do you think when you first see it?”

I search for the words. “Tonight I thought, ‘Finally.’ What do you think when I first pull it out?”


Living in the moment like I’ve decided to do to, to the fullest extent I’m possible, I’m not concerned with what’s about to happen. I am only a mouth, a body, a pair of eyes filled with cock. Pleasuring him is enough, but I am also going to follow his lead.

“You know, I could fuck you if you’re not feeling up to it. But, you said we aren’t going to have sex tonight, so I have to respect that.” I slowly stand up and go back to my seat, pick up the deck and begin to shuffle.

He stands there baffled. He’s used to me being a slave to his cock, unable to resist. He puts himself back together and sits again. We play a few more rounds and then once more his cock is in my mouth and he’s removed all of his clothes. He walks back towards my room.

“Where are you going?” I ask after him.

“Oh… just going to lie down for a little bit.” I obediently follow.

He switches on my closet light, cracks the door and lays down. His cock full and proud rests heavily on his belly. I can’t see his bellybutton.

I kneel next to his legs and begin to circle my nipples over my dress, run my hand down my belly to my crotch and lightly rub. “I’m sick,” he reminds me.

“Don’t worry, I won’t fuck you. Close your eyes if you can’t handle it.” And the second that he does I rub my hungry pubis over my dress so loudly there’s no doubt about what I’m doing.

“I can hear you.”

“Oh really?? That’s just too bad.”

He opens his eyes and watches me. I pull my dress up and move my panties to the side. I am sopping wet. He can hear the squelch on my fingers. I moan.

And then he gives the green light and says I can fuck him. This is what I was waiting for, hoping for. I rip open a golden wrapper and lay it beside him, climb on top of his legs and worship his cock with my mouth. Still in my dress I remove my panties and straddle him. The second his cock impales me my pelvis tingles and heat swiftly rises up my torso and tingles crawl up my scalp, my arms burn with heaviness.

I ride him sitting tall, leaning over and then like a jockey, my feet at his hips. I start to cry. I can’t keep going, it’s too much. I lean down and kiss his lips, his jaw, his ear and rise up off of him.

“What did you find in your closet? Tell me.”

“NO. You aren’t well enough for that and I’m not going to tell you, I want to show you.”

“Ok, then you can’t suck my cock unless you show me.” My hand, which had been fondling his mostly still erect penis, freezes.

“Oh really? Well, let me suck it while I deliberate.” And, despite what he’d have me think about being a slave to his cock, he’s as much a slave to my mouth. His hands fall to his sides and he lets me fill my mouth with him. I am trying to get him to forget about my treat, but he is tenacious.

“Now. I want to know now. Are you done deliberating?” I decide I am.

Without a word I get up and kneel at the wicker basket beside my bed and start pulling out silk scarves. One, 2, 3, 4 — where is? — ah, yes, 5.

“What are those?” he asks from the bed.

“I don’t recall you getting to ask me any questions.” I don’t know if I’ve turned into the pumpkin or Cinderella, but I’m going with it.

I secure his arms spread wide to my headboard and his feet neatly together to the footboard. As I trail the 5th bright red scarf along his body I ask him what I should do with it. He stammers a little, but comes up with some suggestions. I drag it across his face and it catches on his stubble. I growl my appreciation and let it lay over the top half of his face, nip his ears, jaw, and throat.

It suddenly occurs to me how much power I have and I bite his nipple. He exclaims and bucks up. I continue to nip down his torso to his left hip. His cock is pressed against my left cheek. I fondle and suck and grip and lick his meat. I dip down and lap his perineum. He groans and stiffens.

“You like this, TN? You like not being able to move?”

“Yes, yes. I think you can fuck me again now.”

I crawl back up to his ear and whisper, “I think I can do anything I want to you now.” I straddle his bare cock making sure it’s pressed against my belly, not my cunt.

“Yes, you could,” he answers.

“I could fuck you just like this,” and I grab his cock emphasizing the lack of protection between us. He’d told me once we’d never, ever have unprotected sex.

“Yes, that’s right.” His compliance to what I am half jokingly inferring makes my chest swell.

I begin to rub my lips on his shaft. I wait to see what his reaction will be. He moans and thrusts. I slide along more of his length reveling in the feel. I’ve never felt him this way before. I can tell he’s trying to enter me. I keep him at bay for a moment longer then guide him in.

I slowly sit back in awe. His skin against mine, inside of me, is otherworldly. We both are at a loss for words. I begin to move again. Filled with emotion and love and pride and glory. My pussy weeps on his belly and my clit sings. Down a dark corridor I can sense an orgasm waving at me. I increase my tempo but my g-spot fights for dominance and the gushing and the tingling and the heat overwhelms me and I have to stop.

I have clawed and gripped at his chest for purchase throughout this ride and so when he suggests I free his hands I do so quickly, then we free his feet. CLICK. Shit changes again and he roughly grabs my shoulders and slams me down on my back and plunges into me.

He fucks me till Tuesday and until I can barely feel him for I am so wet. I cry out every filthy word I can think of, scream his name, beg him to cum inside of me. Even his balls feel better slapping against my ass without a condom.

He flips me over onto my belly and continues to rail me. I am drenched in sweat and tears. He won’t stop. The slamming, the slapping, the sucking noises, the grunts, moans, and whimpers. My headboard creaks immodestly, occasionally my hand makes pounding noises on the wall. I don’t care about anything anymore.

He stops for a minute and asks if I could cum with him inside of me if I lay on my vibrator. I tell him I’d give it a shot. The vibrations pressed against me with the rhythm of his thrusts kick me high, so high I beg him to let me raise up on my knees. He obliges.

And with my shoulders driven into the mattress and his cock in me from behind I press the vibrator against me. I climb and climb and climb some more, that ever elusive orgasm always down that dark corridor. He knows I’m close and so stops and replaces his cock with his fingers. I respond immediately. My orgasm is closer, the hall not so dark.

I am unabashadly splayed open to him. My asshole winking at him, my cunt dripping and hot under his hand. I feel free.

I flip back onto my back and his fingers curl up inside of me. I begin to tremble violently and then the universe splits and I yell out an orgasm so big, so blinding that afterwards my teeth chatter.

He pulls me into his arms and pets my wet temple. I pant and whimper some more. And through my euphoria I am heartbroken he didn’t cum. He assures me he couldn’t care less, that it was because he wasn’t feeling well.

He kisses me and gets up, starts to put his clothes back on. I am a helpless 1000lbs on top of tangled sheets. My left knee up, my right leg down. He makes a “picture” motion with his fingers and clicks his tongue.

“Could you fall asleep right now?” he asks me.

“Um, yes. Oh my god. I can’t – I mean – um, yeah…”

I follow his lead and pull my dress back down over my head. When I stand up I am dizzy and must sit back down then I stumble drunkenly after him to the living room. I am expecting him to leave immediately but he doesn’t. He stays for a strangely long time.

As I struggle to think coherently he opens up to me. He says I’m a very genuine person. I swell at the compliment. His whole demeanor is different than ever before as we talk. He seems reluctant to leave, which is not him at all. He’s usually all too eager to take off. I sit patiently and wait.

“I don’t think you’d notice if I faded to black,” he tells me. “If you did, I’d notice, but I don’t think you’d notice at all.”

“What are you talking about?? Of course I’d notice!” I feel like I have accidentally found a treasure box of sorts. Is he saying he thinks I don’t care about him? Is this what all of this is about?? “I would definitely notice, TN. First of all, I’m trained to notice people and their behaviors, secondly, I am always reaching out to you. I would know if you were pulling away.”

“No, I don’t think so. It’d be more obvious with you. You talk a lot more,” and there is a twinkle in his eye. I’m actually flabbergasted. We’ve spent hours and hours talking and certainly not just me.

A laugh bursts out of me as I lay example after example at his talkativeness. I exclaim, “Look at you with all my friends! You’re all jibberjibberjibber!” I make a yapping hand signal and he stands up and mockingly yells at me “I’m a recluse, goddamnit! A recluse! I don’t talk!! I don’t like people!” as I shout, “You’re fucking gregarious, outgoing, charming, and a great conversationalist!” The puppy bites his ankle and our debate ends in giggles.

Finally, he’s ready to go home. I am mostly back together, but still reeling from the night. He stands expectantly in the middle of the floor and I walk over to him. I put my arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, thank him for coming over. He kisses me back and holds me close. I walk him to the door and we say goodnight.

We never discuss what just happened to us.

A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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15 thoughts on “I tie up my lover.
  1. whew … now that’s a roller coaster of an evening if I ever read one. Fantastic! See … it’s happening. Patience is good. (Oh, and btw … terrifically written!)


    1. That may be! I think it’s funny that no one else seems to cry during great sex. I know it’s parodied, but every lover I’ve ever had who’s witnessed it sure seems to dig it! Lol

  2. Yikes. What a night. The scarves were a great idea. I love how you were teasing each other before he left. That was a light hearted way to end the evening.

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