She Looses My Bonds

I feel the bonds loosened. I feel the blindfold lifted. I feel it all happen to me but it doesn't really feel like it's happening to me. It doesn't feel like I'm here at all.

My body is still fuzzy, all light and soft and sparkling. Dewdrops of sweat glistening on skin and lights that are too bright and nerves that are shot, a body too stretched and too overworked. Pushed to limits that I thought I had and then rushed beyond them so that all I can do is gasp at the full scope of the world around me and marvel at the fact that somehow, when I made it through the other side, I am still whole.

And none of this makes any sense but it doesn't have to because goddammit I feel good.

"What are you doing?" she asks me, her voice bemused but so far away and I try to respond but the best I can manage is a giggle and a shrug and a shimmy as I pull myself into a ball and hug my knees to my chest, rolling into myself as I feel my body ebb and flow and grow with the warmth still blossoming beneath my skin.

I'm not burning anymore, but that doesn't mean that it's all gone for me. I'm still here and I'm still present and dammit I'm still me.

Even if I don't know precisely who me is anymore.

"Sleep then," she whispers, kissing me on the cheek and drawing the covers up over me, "You deserve it. I'm so proud of you for the day you had, for all the things you did."

Who is this woman? Why is she being so good to me? Why can't I help but smile and why is it that I feel so damn defiant because her telling me to sleep suddenly made me not want to. It made me want to do the opposite.

It filled me with energy and excitement.

Spinning around I rolled over her. She'd just snapped off the lights and settled next to me and suddenly I was on her, my naked body pressed against hers as my nipples brushed against her skin and it sent an electric thrill running through me and for an instant I thought and knew that I could really do this whole damn thing over again.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Straddling you," I say simply, "Touching you. Seeing if maybe..."

I don't need to say more. She knows what I'm saying and in the dark there is a light in her eyes that glimmers and sparkles.

Mischevious. Wicked. Naughty.

Rachel is all those things and she's anything but the demure and innocent angel I thought she was but she's not bad. She's shown me how to be so good and how to feel so good and she's been so good to me and god, I just want to fall into her. I just want to make her feel good so she'll make me feel good so I'll make her feel good until we're trapped in an endless cycle of pleasure and that wouldn't be so bad.

It was certainly tempting.

Rachel reaches up. She curls her fingers and brushes the backs of them against my cheek and the touch is so gentle that it takes me by surprise. No, it's not gentle. It's intimate and it's special and it's just us and I gasp, because I see sadness in her eyes.

"We should sleep," she says to me, hesitation in her tone but still insistent that it is the right choice, "And we should rest. And we should get up in the morning and get going because we have a big day and I have big plans for you."

"Cock," I stutter out, then blush and stammer an explanation after, "You promised you'd find me cock."

She chuckles, "Right I did. I didn't forget about that either. Something far more satisfying than what I found tonight."

That didn't make any damn sense to me, because how could anything ever be?

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