Charmer: Time For My Back Rub

We’ve been just being lazy for a bit. Watching the latest episodes, enjoying some wine, nibbling on bits and pieces of cheese and poking at each other.

“Time for my back rub…” you say, popping up off the couch. “And I’d really love a refill on the wine.”

You sashay off down the hall, smirking. I keep watching after you, also smirking for all the right reasons. The bounce in your step is mesmerizing.

When you get to the doorway, you do this overly dramatic look over your shoulder and see me watching you. You grin a big grin and tell me “Happy Valentine’s day!“

You slip into the room and I’m off to grab a refill, and the bottle, to take back with me. When I get to the room, the lights are down, the music is playing (none of this low booming bass voice stuff for you, the 70s and 80s rock is what this is all about).

You call me to you with your come hither hand gesture – and I am over in a flash. You smile again, take the wine from me and put it carefully to the side.

You’ve changed clothes somehow in the short time that I took to get the refill. You’re in this see-through, wispy outfit. It fits you like a glove.

You pull me to you, hands under my shirt, running up my back. You wrap them tightly around my lower back, look at me, and lean forward slowly. So slowly. You kiss me once, then again just above the top of my pants.

Then you come back for more. You hold me in place and press in hard, pulling my flesh into your mouth, clamping your teeth around me, sucking me in. My stomach twitches in response and it takes everything I can to not pull away. I know the rules. I know what happens if I do pull away. It’s not pretty.

You grind a bit on me, my flesh, I can feel the heat rising, the pain getting sharper, you biting harder.

You release, undo my belt, unbutton the buttons on my jeans, pull my jeans down and repeat this. But this time, you kiss slowly down, then bite into my flesh again, just about the cage. While you are there, you grab me, the cage, and you can see I’m fighting against it, every erotic bit of energy I have pressing against the steel.

You’re in rare form on this bite, the heat – the pressure, the pain – it is coursing through me. You’re almost willing me to pull away. I’m fighting to hold as still as possible, but you’ve never had a problem with the sounds I make, and there are many sharp noises and words coming out of me at the moment.

At last you release me, and I can feel the welt and bruise and pain welling up behind where you were last.

“And a happy Valentine’s day to me, too…” you say, licking your lips. You turn and lay down on the bed, “I’ll take that backrub now, please.“