A Sexual Chronicle chapter 1

I woke up late in the morning on a sunny, spring day with the urge to do nothing productive at all for the whole weekend. I expressed this desire to my girlfriend, Katie, as she rolled over and stretched next to me.

“Not a chance, buster,” she scolded me. “We haven’t had a day at home in weeks. We need to clean this damn apartment top to bottom. You can fuck around tomorrow, but we’re getting this shit done today.”

I groaned and tried to hide under my pillow.

“Hey, I’ll make it fun for you. You pick my outfit for today, alright?”

I emerged from my hiding place to see her wink one big, sparkling green eye at me. There something so inviting about the little smile running along her pink lips. Fuck, I was a lucky man.

“I’m gonna get up and take my shower. When I get back in here, I’ll put on whatever you’ve left out on the bed for me and wear that for the whole day. Pick something cute and give yourself a nice view to work to. The glasses are the only thing you don’t get a say in. No trying to make me too blind to see you slacking.”

A cracked a wide grin. The potential for mischief lit a fire under me. Maybe getting out of bed today wasn’t such a rough prospect after all. Kat got up and stretched more by the side of the bed. Medium-length, feathery hair that started dark and was dyed at the tips whipped around and the fabric of a baggy t-shirt swished as she worked the kinks out of her joints. The sleep outfit was more about comfort than sex appeal, but the moments in her routine where it rode up to the base of her ass cheeks or the very tip of her cameltoe, or fell back over her breasts to show the shape of hard nipples did more than enough for me. Not to mention the pair of wonderful, naked thighs that were falling out the bottom of it, marking my mind think about the place they led up to, just out of sight. She slinked from the bedroom, leaving me to my choices with a fetching final swing of the hips.

I was alone with a rock hard boner and a mind in overdrive. I had so many options!

My first thought was to lay out only underwear. I recalled some of the best lingerie she’d ever modelled for me – strappy numbers, sheer numbers, skimpy things and items that were 90% or more just lace. I’d been saying for ages she should try to find something cupless or crotchless, or at least with revealing cutouts, but we’d never got round to shopping for it. Damn shame.

Then, I thought about laying out everything except the underwear. In this plan, I would bring out the shortest, smallest skirt and top I could find, and make sure she got all the jobs that involved bending forward. She’d be teasing me all day if I got her like that.

It was at about this stage in the process that I ditched the briefs I’d slept in, now with a tiny wet spot around the crotch area. They were too tight for this kind of consideration. I paced the room nude, my hard dick bouncing ahead of me. It was a curious feeling. Usually if it got so hard while I was up and about, it’d end up tucked safely into a waistband until it went down. So much motion with it totally free pulled on the muscles in a way I hadn’t expected.

I got back to my ideas. Bottoms only? A classic. Tops only? Oh baby, bottomless could really do it for me, for reasons I’d never quite been able to articulate. I think it had something to do with the idea of being mostly dressed but totally exposed at the same time.

But that still didn’t feel like it was using this opportunity to its fullest potential.

My mind went to costumes. A French maid would be pretty fitting, but we didn’t have anything like that. We had good, hot sex, but we’d never gone as far as full dressup and role play. Something to prepare for next time maybe.

Hell, what if I just left nothing at all on the bed? Would she get the message and just go nude for the day? That got me twitching, the idea that she would have to be totally bare and visible to me but do normal things like I wasn’t drinking in all the new angles. But if there was nothing on the bed, she might think I’d decided to just not play along, get mad and dress herself instead.

I absolutely could not afford to risk that.

So I had to lay something out to show I was game. A hat? I could sing the song as she walked out in it. Shoes? Socks? Thigh-highs?

Then the idea hit me.

She’d been experimenting with shibari lately. The other week, she’d snapped me a really impressive rope harness she’d done herself. I wasn’t super into bondage, but I sure had appreciated the visual. I’d been wanting to get an in-person look at the setup ever since, but we hadn’t had that kind of prep-time before a fuck since. I dug under the bed and found the bundle of red velvet rope and laid it out for her to find, making sure all the loose clothes waiting to be washed were well away so there’d be no confusion.

My heart was pounding. Would she think it was too much? Call me too bold and tell me off? I had to risk it.

At least the fear of an awkward talking to made my cock flag enough to get some clean briefs and a pair of shorts on. While I was soft enough to do it effectively, I snuck into the bathroom to pee. Not much to see through the foggy shower door but a blurry silhouette. The looseness of the shirt (now discarded alongside a pair of cheeky red panties on the floor) sold the shape she was in way short. Katie was a little on the tall side to have ever been a gymnast, but she had the build for it in every other way.

“Did you get my outfit ready, babe?” she asked over the white noise of the showerhead.

“You better believe I did!”

I washed my hands and retreated to the couch to game a little until she was done. It was a battle to keep my thoughts from straying to what I was about to see.

After a little bit, the shower shut off and I caught Katie slipping back between the bathroom and the bedroom. She had her towel held in front of her. It wasn’t wrapped all the way around; that would have been excessively modest for such a short trip in front of the guy she regularly fucked, but it was enough to keep me wanting the goods. I got an eyeful of more thigh and glimpse of ass before she disappeared. Try as you might, Katie, you won’t be able to hide the goods from me for long!

I gamed a little longer, figuring the harness would take a while to set up. The fact that she took so long was encouraging. If she wasn’t doing it, she’d have just come right out and said so.

“You must think you’re so clever,’ she said at last, still hidden around the doorway. I detected a little quiver in her voice, like she was actually nervous to come out in such a naked, vulnerable state. If she could see her body the way I did, she’d know there was absolutely nothing to worry about.

“Counterpoint, I know I’m so clever. Why don’t you come on out and let me see if my fashion sense is as good as I think it is.”

“Har har. I can still take this thing off, you know? I don’t have to let you see it.”

“Now that’s not fair,” I protested. “You agreed to spend the day in whatever I laid out. That was the only thing that got me out of bed!” I decided to press my luck. “Besides, you’re the one who thinks cleaning up is so urgent. It’ll only take longer if you have to go back and change, so you might as well come out here and get started now.”

I could almost feel her eyes rolling through the wall.

But Katie did appear. One long, pale leg first, and the rest of her following. I nearly had a heart attack at the sight. She’d tied what I’m told is called a karada, or tortoise shell harness. It started around her neck and moved down the middle of her body in a column of diamonds with ropes coming off the sides and reaching all the way around her body. To the left and right of the place the first two diamonds met were two moderate, perky breasts, framed perfectly by the ropes. Her nipples stood on end in the middle of ruddy, pebbled areolas, revealing the arousal underneath her uncertainty. Around her stomach and hips, the harness pressed in, indenting the skin slightly. Even from this distance, I could literally see how soft her skin was.

And then, the real prize. The bottommost diamond was not closed off, and instead, the ropes of its lower half were pulled tight under her crotch, going past either side of her pussy. There, they pressed inward too, making her labia seem even more prominent, as if pressed forward though the gap. I think I detected a little gleam of wetness on the lips as well. She kept her pubes trimmed into a short, neat wedge just above her cunt, and it overlapped the ropes slightly.

She shifted on her feet. One moment, her posture invited me to look, arms akimbo as if to say “there, are you happy now, see if I care what you look at.” The next, she was twisting away from me and trying to hide the good bits. And then back again.

“That’s stunning,” I managed, realising I should say something to indicate the first set of body language was the right one. “I’d dress you like that every day if I could.”

I got up and moved closer to her. She started to look more at ease. Enough so to return a smirk, anyway. “You wouldn’t dress me at all if you thought could get away with it.”

I reached her and traced the lines of the ropes with my fingers, using them to guide a path across her skin. I occasionally hooked my finger under, testing the tightness, and the potential use of the harness to pull her toward me. It worked like a dream. Her soft and oh-so naked body pressed against my t-shirt. “I almost went with that as an option,” I confessed.

“Oh? What happened?”

The tips of our noses were touching. I could smell her toothpaste. I saw myself reflected in her glasses – the shape thin red frame crossing her face an echo of the red net around her body. I moved in for the kiss. Open mouth. My racing heart and throbbing libido wouldn’t accept anything less. It was a chaotic, fast, wet sort of making out. Tongues danced and intertwined and wrestled, the knot they formed moving between my mouth and hers and back again. Hands were on asses and squeezing hard on both sides. Holy shit, half the time our kissing didn’t get this intense even when we fucked. I was really onto something here.

“I didn’t think I could get away with it,” I said slyly. “But I’d hoped this might be the start of some kind of slippery slope.”

I pulled back just enough to get a hand between us and slide a few fingers into the cleft between her lower lips. I moved them back and forth through the hot, soaking valley they found.

“And it’s not the only thing that’s slippery.”

I moved my hand up into that close-cropped bush, raking my now-lubricated fingers through the hair. I traced the parts of it on the outside of the crotch ropes.

“We should shave this in a little closer, make it match the shape of the harness. That’d be so fucking hot.”

“We?” she asked, smiling. Valid point. But I could see from the glint in her eye and the way she licked her lips – practically drooling – that she agreed with me. Her hands came to the front too and started exploring. My heartbeat pounded as they undid the fly on my shorts and worked my cock through the second fly in the front of my briefs, balls and all. With some difficulty, on account of its incredible and unyielding hardness right now. She kissed my neck as she gave it half a dozen slow, gentle strokes.

Then, she moved her lips to my ear and whispered, “we have to clean.”

Blue ball incident of the century right here. I groaned as she stepped away, glowing in a whole-body blush and jiggling everywhere it was right for a woman to jiggle. This would be as bad for her as it was for me, but the conclusion would be even more explosive when we did get around to it. I grabbed the front of my pants and considered the kinds of angles I’d have to work with to put my dick away.

“Ah-ah,” Katie said, playfully slapping my hands. “If you’re going to spend the whole day perving on my titties and my ass and my pussy like I know you will, it’s only fair I get to see how much of the day you spend hard for me. Leave it out. Just like that.”

My heart pounded as I turned around to follow her back into the living room, my hard rod leading the way, a drop of pre-cum dangling from the tip. She kept looking back at it, and couldn’t keep my eyes off her ass, round and taut, the two ropes I’d seen disappear from the front having met somewhere around the bottom to scale her back in parallel lines. She walked with that same sway she’d taken into the bathroom after she got up. Her confidence in this getup was increasing. Fuck me, it was hot.

I won’t bore you with the fine details of the cleaning. Suffice to say that she was right, we were living like grubs after a handful of busy weeks. There was dust, rubbish, washing and all kinds of things out of place. What I will say about the portion of the day in which we acted like functional adults instead of sex-crazed young lovers is that every time she saw me flag and start to dangle out the front of my pants instead of point, she found something to do close to the floor. From straightening the bottom shelves of bookcases to suddenly noticing something left by her feet, there was always a reason to bend over – and always at the waist, always facing away from me. The ropes framed her glistening pussy even more beautifully from this angle than they had from the front. She would twist in her bent-forward pose to watch her handywork – my rising cock – giving me a view of her tits hanging and swinging with the motion. Then, she would wink or blow a kiss.

I was ready to explode within ten minutes. The pressure on my self-control was twofold. First, of course, was Katie. So naked, so exposed, and so mine. I savoured the moments when she forgot she was nude and the ones where she remembered and was momentarily sheepish about it equally. She had nothing I hadn’t seen up close and in great detail, and we both knew it, but somehow this was different. The other factor was that she’d turned the tables and exposed me the same way. She was stealing glances, following how I felt about her state in real time, occasionally transfixed by the way I bounced around when I tried to walk normally at full mast.

What can I say, sometimes guys want to feel wanted too. And not just wanted wanted. I was being ogled drooled over like meat. Maybe objectified, even. I wasn’t just wanted by this woman, I was wanted in the same hungry, horny way that men want women.

Maybe all women feel that kind of attraction, or maybe it works different for them. All I know is that it’s rare to find one willing to express it like this.

Of course, we played while we worked as well. We would pass each other as we did our chores and I would tweak a nipple, smack an ass cheek, run a few fingers through her labia, or just grab a rope and pull her in for a kiss. In turn, she would give me one or two tugs or a brief tickle on the tip of my dick when she came near me. One time, when she was cleaning the floor on all fours and I was done lingering at the rear to admire the view, she quickly grabbed me and pulled my whole cock down her throat for just a second before letting me go. She had no idea how lucky she was not to get a facefull of cum after all this (mostly) hands-off edging. The next time I caught her down low, I knelt behind her and smacked her round ass cheeks with my tool. We both gave a little shiver of pleasure, so I aimed myself at her cunt. A set of fingers appeared between her legs, blocking my way but also pressed in hard enough to give her some real pleasure.

“No fucking until the apartment’s clean,” she said breathily.

I looked at the shiny pussy juice welling between her fingers. “You’re the one jerking off instead of cleaning,” I teased. “I just thought I’d help.”

“You dickhead,” she said, but it came out a sigh.

We carried on teasing each other and working far more slowly than we otherwise would have for a little longer. Finally, Katie returned from dropping off some rubbish in the kitchen and declared, “I think this place is finally looking liveable, don’t you?”

I answered by pouncing on her, initiating the kind of kiss where teeth clash together. We were all hands and those hands were everywhere. I squeezed and fingered and I sucked her face, and she handled cock and balls like a pro, with one had each, regularly alternating. The head of my dick was mostly being mashed into her soft midsection, in between the ropes, and it all felt like heaven.

We stumbled around the living room until she broke off and cocked her leg up on the arm of the couch, spreading her cunt wide. She was dripping. Literally dripping. So much for having just cleaned the floor.

“Do me now,” she whimpered. “I need it!”

Don’t have to tell me twice. I put a leg on the couch to get myself lined up properly and plunged into her. Her sopping pussy offered no resistance whatsoever. There was no reason to start slow or hold back, and I don’t think I could have managed it even if there was. We jackhammered into each other, thrusting and grinding and pushing hard into open-mouth kisses while fingers raked along spines and groped asses.

I reflected, as much as I was able to think about anything but my rhythm, that we’d always been a bedroom-only kind of couple when it came to sex. When we first got the apartment together, I’d had a horny daydream of making a point of christening every room that had never panned out. It had been mostly Kat rebuffing my attempts to heat things up on the couch and in the kitchen, telling me “no, our friends have to sit on this thing” and “hey, this is a food-prep area.” It wasn’t that that she was a prude (obviously) it just seemed that sex, to her, happened in the bedroom, and that was the best place for it. The best I’d had was one or two good fucks under the shower.

But now, here she was, begging for the hardest dicking I could deliver, right over our freshly cleaned living room couch. There was no shame in her desperation. There was no thought that after hours of teasing, we were spraying far more fluid than the lazy movie night fucks she’d turned down were likely to have produced. She definitely didn’t give a fuck if our friends would have to sit where we’d done it!

She came quickly, holding my shoulders and arching backwards as the climax rolled in. Her tits pointed at the ceiling, nipples harder than I’d ever seen them, breasts bouncing upward in a battle against gravity as she rode the waves of her orgasm. I was only a moment behind, and the results were explosive. I stiffened and shook as pleasure radiated up and down my body, extending in a ripple of hypersensitivity to the ends of my limbs. We held each other as the mutual throes subsided, then collapsed in a panting heap on the couch.

I like to think I usually last a little longer than that, but I didn’t feel self-conscious about it at all. Today’s sex hadn’t just been the penis-in-vagina time, it had been the hours we’d spent toying with each other beforehand. We’d finished so quick because we’d been building it up so long. We were both satisfied, anyway, and that was the important part.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/vbvbdx/a_sexual_chronicle_chapter_1