M/F
Upon returning to our table, my fantasies were flowing like water. Tiffany hadn’t a clue. I noticed a small white ribbon wrapped around some candle décor on the table.
“Place both your hands under the middle of the table, palms facing towards each other, wrists tightly together,” I instructed her instinctively.
She did so immediately, without a look of hesitation in her eye. Was this the wine acting up or was she genuinely becoming more comfortable around me? Perhaps more aroused?
As she watched, I casually undid the ribbon around the candle base and brought it under the table, feeling forward until my hands met hers. Looking into her eyes as she gazed back, I gently tied the ribbon around her delicate wrists, binding them together.
“Move yourself closer to me. Move your chair inward,” I told her, satisfied with my work.
Tiffany complied. We were now only a short distance apart from each other, as this was a small table. It was then that I noticed her following orders immediately and without question, without even so much as saying anything. She was in a completely submissive mindset, which I fed directly off of.
“Now, I want you to spread your legs,” I said, as I myself moved in even closer, still keeping my hands under the table.
“Are you wet, Tiffany?” I inquired.
“Yes, sir, I am wet,” she responded with only a small bit of nervousness in her voice. She was clearly opening up to this experience.
“Blow out the candle for me. Slowly,” I told her, admiring the motion of her head going down and our meagerly lit corner going close to pitch black. We were even closer together than before and further isolated from the rest of the crowd. This place was ours, this private corner.
With my hands still under the table, I placed my palms on both her thighs, a few inches above the knee. Looking into the glint in her eyes, despite the near darkness around us, I slowly spread them even further, admiring their feminine and youthful shape while doing so. A soft sigh escaped from her.
“Look down at the table. You’re not to look up until I give you permission and you’re to keep your hands exactly as they are, bound, and under the table. More importantly, out of my way. Have I made myself clear?” I asked her.
“Yes, sir,” she replied, while looking down.
“Yes, sir, what?” I replied, challenging her further.
“Yes, sir, you’ve made yourself clear to me, sir,” she responded.
Her response in such a way made me confident that she understood me very well at this point. She was a natural. I loved hearing that response. Moreover, I loved the way it made me feel. Despite the minimal amount of time we spent together, I already cared deeply about her. This feeling was not in the traditional, vanilla way, however. It was a darker form of caring, one might say. A feeling of dominance combined with passion, perhaps.
I continued to move my hand up her legs, pushing the light fabric of her white skirt slowly up, knowingly revealing her most intimate area beneath the table. I didn’t have to see it. For the moment, I was satisfied and maybe even preferred the imagination and mystery of this situation.
Taking my right hand, I moved it both inward and upward along her left thigh, until finally meeting a smooth, hot, and soft piece of flesh. I watched her begin to breathe a little deeper, the movement of her slim shoulders in the dark revealing that.
Using my middle finger, I slowly and gently went forward, feeling her tiny, yet engorged and virginal lips give way to my intrusion. Her body language suggested she wanted this, but I had other plans. I would give her only a preview of the possibilities, and then without warning, transport her into another entirely unexpected situation. Slowly inserting my middle finger, it went smoothly inside her tight, wet hole. She was absolutely drenched, as I could feel drops of moisture escaping down her lips as I opened them up. With my palm facing upwards, I continued to insert the entire thing, pressing the tip of my middle finger against her pubic bone. Rather than continue this movement, I only pressed for a brief few seconds before pulling it out.
An expression of yearning came over her downward-looking face and it was clear she wanted more. Leaving my hand in the same position, I moved my now moist finger even lower, feeling it meet between her soft ass cheeks. What I was about to do was going to be so taboo and unexpected, that I felt my palms begin to lightly sweat. This was well-beyond what I had planned on for this evening, and I was shocked at how much she was able to bring out of me. Despite this moment of brief hesitation, I pressed my moist finger against her most forbidden part.
“Do you trust me right now?” I asked her quietly, yet curiously.
“I… trust you, sir. May I say something?” she responded.
“Please do.”
“I’m not sure what’s going to happen. I’ve never done… well, this before. Anything like this. Ever.”
“With your tied hands, hold my left hand and grip it as tight as you need to. Nobody sees us, everything is covered, and there is no risk of interruption. The night is ours,” I explained in an attempt to comfort her in this moment.
She complied, placing her small, bound hands around my left hand, gradually gripping it harder. She needed this assurance and connection for what was about to happen. Ever so gently, I pressed my finger against her forbidden fruit, feeling it penetrate and enter. As she let out a gasp and gripped my hand tighter, I continued, feeling it gradually go further inside.
“You need to relax. It’s only going to be for a moment, ok? Just relax. The more you relax, the better. Trust me.” Seeing a subtle nod towards me, I continued further and further, until it was nearly all the way in up to the base of my hand. She had taken it quite well. Her natural nectar from earlier was slippery and smooth, and made this far easier than expected.
For that brief moment, I felt the two of us take this all in. It was unbelievable, yet clearly real. I loved this moment. We hadn’t just pushed the envelope, we had torn the envelope in half, or so I thought. What came to me next was something so incredibly kinky that I nearly blushed just thinking of the idea.
I don’t know where it came from. It wasn’t my personal experiences most certainly. It wasn’t anything I had experienced. It simply formed in my mind, as if our extreme moment together gave off its own thoughts. Gently removing my finger from her virginal ass, I also released my grip on our bonding below the table. She watched as I took my right hand up, seemingly convinced this kink was over for the moment.
Her dish of ice cream with whipped cream on it had barely begun to melt towards the top. With the same finger, I plunged it directly into her dessert, covering it in whipped cream. I saw as her eyes wandered up, not to mine, but to the dessert before her. She watched as I pulled the now whipped-cream covered finger out and moved it towards her mouth.
Barely, yet still noticeably flinching, this beautiful girl starred at this finger before her. I was not forcing anything for the moment, but she clearly knew what I was going to ask.
“Clean it,” I said, the words already expected from the look on her face. This was a mixture of the sweetest whipped cream and the most intimate, forbidden, and even downright dirty essence of her.
“I want you to look at me while you do it. Keep your head close to the table though. Look me right in the eyes. Do this for me,” I found myself calmly instructing her.
Moving her pink, luscious lips closer to my finger, she opened them apart slowly after a brief hesitation and moved her mouth over the tip of my middle finger, with the lips placed tightly around it.
“The whole thing, my dear. Open wide. You’re a beautiful girl and you needn’t be ashamed or disgusted by any of this. I want you to take it all for me,” I told her quietly yet sternly.
Hearing these words, she opened her mouth a little wider, and finally taking in my entire finger. As her lips closed around the end of it, it was like something went off inside her. She looked deep into my eyes as I felt her hot mouth suck tightly, nearly inhaling the mixture of both sweet and forbidden into her mouth, moving her tongue around in the process as if to tease me.
It worked. My cock was throbbing from the sight of her combined with the endless stream of carnal thoughts. At the same time, it hit me who she was. If I took her down the path that those thoughts were surely going, she’d turn out the same as the others. It just wasn’t time. My sense of worry in that regard frustrated me.
A foot began to work it’s way up my leg, starting from my inner calf. Upon feeling that, I could only smile at Tiffany. She had already come along way from the first impression I had of her.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/1z2m7f/excerpt_from_a_very_80s_erotic_story