[Alt - Nat's Perspective] Wrapping up

"Fuck, that was hot," I think to myself as her body goes slack, her tongue sliding its way free of mine, her last little squeal caught in the back of my throat as she loses all power, supported only by my arms. "I don't think I've had that much fun since Mr Reeve's 'detentions.'"

Thoughts flow through my brain as I look down at her achingly cute face, still flush, but peaceful now, mouth open just a fraction. Some thoughts happy. Some dark. I want to hug her. Pinch those cute cheeks. Slap them 'til they're sore. Fill them full of cock as she looks up at me, pleading. But, no, not now. Put those thoughts aside.

I just can't believe how easy that all was. And, God, how naturally subby she was. I'd thought I'd have to let this run for a few more days, knowing how patient Karen could usually be; What was it, three days? When she camped out for that Larry Trotter book? There was a serious risk that I'd break before her. But then she started trying to frig herself off with a damn pillow. That was my time to strike. She must have been low on books to read or something.

I mean, the game was a bit of a risk too. She might not have agreed to play. She could have gotten better than me while I was away. She might have wanted out before I silenced her. Good thinking, that. Though next time I'll try for a slightly less nasty gag, if I plan to French her afterwards.

But, anyway. **** sub. First time. Pretty intense session. Very sweaty. Dirty. Aftercare's important. Easier when conscious, usually. Let's get her out of her bindings...

Her legs don't pose much of a problem - it's more of a bow than a knot, no need to be so complex when she's already immobilized up top. Her arms are tougher - I have to flip her over for that, and spend a minute or two getting the knot undone. The marks around her wrists do make me feel a little guilty though. They'll be healed in a day or two, sure. And she did kinda bring it on herself. But still, maybe that's a bit of an overreaction to a newbie sub trying to top. Eh, I'll try and use the proper ropes herein. It's not like she didn't enjoy it, though.

Now she's lying there again, cute as fuck against the crimson pillows, one arm hanging loose as the other lays across her tight belly. Her clothes are sodden with sweat, though. She's going to have to wash, for sure. Maybe I could help her out, get her into something more comfortable? Y'know, if I can convince myself that it's not just an excuse to get a look at her naked. Ha ha ha. Ha. ha. But seriously, I'm pretty sure there's the nice cotton blanket I like to snuggle up with down here somewhere, that's pretty nice...

The top is surprisingly hard to get off. Well, not all that surprising, really - the sweat is making it all clingy, and I'm having to deal with her unresponsive top half. I manage to sit her up and get the hemline to up above her breasts, but getting it up over her head is a bit tough, her hair getting in the way a bit (Ponytail would have been easier to manage. Maybe not as hot though). Thankfully it's a wide neck thing, and not a T-shirt. Then it's just a case of lowering her slowly as I get her arms out, not waking her up or hurting her. As I do, I drag her backwards a bit too, a little way away from the sofa, so her legs have a little bit more room to spread out.

The bra is easier - just some plain white old thing, not the sports bra I was expecting. Tilt her slightly to get the clasp undone (how "dur bras are hard" became a trope, I don't fucking know, just pinch it and voila), then getting it over her limp arms. Though even if that somehow was some rubik's-like puzzle, the reward is more than worth it. Karen isn't as well endowed as me, but christ, those are some perfect, perky, creamy-white little handfuls; Her smallish nipples still poking outwards like they're being teased by some invisible hand. It takes a lot of willpower for that hand to not be mine.

The leggings are relatively simple too. There's still not quite enough room to stretch her legs out fully, but that assists me, keeping her knees bent while I sit up on the sofa, pulling up and away from her. I have to bring her ankles up on my lap to finish getting them off over her calves. They catch a little on her ankles as the material bunches up, giving me ideas of using them as an impromptu ankle binding... another time, maybe.

The sight from up here is amazing. She's still way out cold, mouth open just a fraction to breathe as her beautiful hair spreads out below her. Her arms are loose out to her sides, wrists bared slightly upwards as though posed in some religious imagery. The sight of her chest moving as she breathes, breasts slowly rising and lowering, is... hypnotic. Her perfect flat stomach barely moving along with it. Smooth, hairless legs propped up on my lap, leading down to a pair of plain white panties, with a large, blatant dark spot along the front and gusset from the fun we'd been having earlier. She looks the image of innocence, even in her undress and excitement.

Taking off her panties... probably isn't necessary. But, in for a penny...

I leave her ankles propped up on the sofa as I slide down onto the floor, between her legs, before crawling forward, my face now maybe a foot from a pussy. I can smell it from here; A heady smell, faintly sweet, and with that strong backing of... something. Phermones? I should look that up when the internet's back.

I hook my fingers around the front of her waistband, before bringing them around to near her hipbones. Not for the first time tonight, but still feels naughty. I savour this feeling, slowly peeling them down until her pussy is just exposed.

If the sight before was beautiful, this is a fucking religious experience. I'm converting to Karen's Vajainism, becoming it's first high priest, proselyting across the world for people to come bow before it and worship. A perfect bald simp, lips puffy and reddened (maybe a bit from the rubbing, but still), moistened just perfectly, with a tiny string of grool leading down to her panties. I can feel the surge of blood down in my loins. What we were doing earlier aroused me too, but this is a whole other level. If I had a dick it'd be bursting about now. Fuck it, what if I just get the str-

No, no. C'mon. Have some restraint. Plenty of time to explore. But... I suppose it doesn't hurt to capture the memory, either.

I grab my phone again, and take a quick shot. The auto-focus works for once, and I don't need to take another. Although I do kick myself for not going back to it sooner. Gradual undressing is amazing, like that slow unwrapping of a present. Can't exactly risk going back and re-dressing her for that, either. Oh well, maybe another time.

I go back to sliding her panties down her legs, having to duck underneath them until they've gone over my head and slid off over her ankles. I can't deny, the temptation to tie her back up, stuff them in her mouth and eat her out until she passes out again is strong. But for now, I settle for pocketing them. She won't complain. Now to wrap her up and get her on the sofa...

... well, c'mon, lets stand up.

... we're still down on the floor. Stand up.

... we're not carrying on yet, are we?

Fuck it. I'm not... I can't pass up this opportunity. Just in case. Just a quick check.

I turn back to her, feet still propped up on the sofa, giving me a prime view of her snatch. Tentatively, I poke my index finger into her. She's intensely warm, crying slightly again as I start to push my digit in. She seems quite reactive though, so I make myself scarce, digging out the bullet vibe as quickly as I can without waking her up. It only takes a few seconds, but she seems to come close to... waking up again, cumming again, both, I don't know

But... I don't stand up. I still stay there, head inches from her crotch, transfixed at the sight of her. I should stand up. I have to. But instead, I lean further forward, my lips perpendicular to hers. Tentatively, I stick my tongue out. It darts inside at the base, and sweeps up, strong at first, getting gentler until it goes up, until barely feathering when at her clit. She moans with it, starting lower, ascending to a high pitch whine by the end. How she's still asleep, I have no idea. But, I'm lucky. And I'm rewarded. Fuck, I love girls who eat healthy. She tastes basically how she smells, but somehow even more moreish. Sweet, but slightly... meaty? It's intoxicating.

Satiating my curiosity does bring me back to reality a little. I need to finish up, and fast. But not without a few more souvenirs. I whip the phone out and snap a few more shots - some close-ups of her pussy, full-body shots with her legs up on the sofa and slightly spread, and some more with her legs directly on the floor, slightly curling up. My finger is still wet with her pussy juice, and despite the more logical side of my brain screaming at me to get finished, I risk one final last clip.

I start recording, and raise my finger up to her lips. It pokes in gently, pushing her lower lip in slowly as it enters her mouth. She invites it in, slackening her jaw further as I intrude. I faintly touch her tongue, and she licks back a couple of times, before closing her lips around the invading digit. Slowly I remove it her, sucking all the way. It takes all my willpower to stay quiet. I want to goddamn explode! This girl is just... AAAAAH! How the fuck she's still single and a virgin are beyond me.

But seriously, we need to be quicker now. Getting up from under her, I pop up onto the sofa, reaching behind it for my blanket. It's way oversized, just the way I like it - it'd be too large on a King-sized bed, but that just allows you to snuggle up a lot. I lay it across the sofa, just shy of the low armrest on one side.

Then, I come back alongside Karen, putting the arm closest to me back across her torso, before carefully wrapping one arm under her legs, and another underneath her neck, sliding down to her lower back as I pick her up. From there, it's just a simple case of turning around laying her on the sofa. She's light enough that I could probably get her upstairs and into her bed, but I don't want to risk her waking up and freaking out on the stairs.

I set her down on the blanket, head sticking out of the top. I flip the side furthest from me over her first, wrapping that in just under her nearest shoulder, then flip the other side over, tucking in just behind her opposite shoulder, with quite a lot of material to spare. Ideally, it should be just tight enough that it feels comforting, but cover her fully and still be airy.

Luckily, she's still out of it. I snap a quick picture of her dozing there, focusing on her face. Though this, I don't think I need to keep secret. Maybe print it out and slip it into a photo album in a year or so. Send it to Mom. Whatever seems most embarassing at the time.

Now... there's actually not a lot to do until she wakes up. I quickly scoop up her clothes (sans my trophy) and unzip the covers on some of the pillows, chucking the inners on a recliner in the corner for now, as I cart the rest off to the clothes basket in the kitchen, bringing back a damp flannel, glass, and jug of water on my return. Then I lay one of the clean ones down near the head of the sofa, and take a seat by her, waiting for her to wake up...

God, I'm looking forward to these next few months.