A Beautifully Wicked Memory

A Beautifully Wicked Memory

A Beautifully Wicked Memory

 

We were new lovers, young lovers, only-had-each other lovers and now as I lie looking out to the autumn skies, I’m back there, in his bed with my arms above my head, wrists tied to brass.

My shirt is open and I look down over my chest, arching my back slightly to bring my breasts into view in their scruffy off-white bra. I take a certain satisfaction as my gaze scans down my belly which dips to where I can just see the elastic of my knickers and a puff of hair beneath the waistband of my jeans. My best jeans. Actually my only jeans. I’m not the right shape for jeans so these are precious.

He’d tied my ankles wide apart and secured them to the bed posts, then he’d looked puzzled as he’d started tugging off the jeans. I’d rolled my eyes. Not too forward thinking then.

I thought he’d untie me and drag them off but he just left, static electricity hanging in the air and now I’m waiting for him to come back. It feels like he’s been ages but I don’t call out. There’s something so deliciously erotic about being here, tied and helpless. My pussy clutches and releases and my nipples tighten and peak. I wriggle my pelvis to try and grind on the seam of denim but they’ve been pulled too far down for that.

Anyone could come in, anyone could do what they want with me right now. A shiver runs through me and I look to the window, paranoia creeping in, even though we’re on the third floor.

I hear the creak and thud of someone climbing the old stairs. He enters, floppy hair falling over his face with a look that makes my cunt yearn. He’s hungry for me. His eyes are hooded with lust and his arms are behind his back, concealing something.

“Close your eyes,” he says quietly, commanding with low growly tones. I do it at once and he approaches the bed. His heat engulfs me as he leans in to my lips and I expect a kiss, when all I feel is cold metal at my mouth. I open my eyes and wince. He drags the flat of a blade across my lips. “Shh…” he says and goosebumps rise as my heart starts racing.

He runs the tips of the blade in a feather light touch from the corner of my mouth down the side of my neck, collar bone, and pauses at my chest where he hooks it under my bra and pulls up, tugging until it slices through the elastic. The cups ping open and my tight breasts spill out and I’m practically panting with feral need. Fuck, this is hot. The way he is staring at my body, hungry, predatory makes me yearn for his tongue in my cunt and cock in my ass. He licks his lips and runs the knife to each nipple, swirling and teasing, making them pucker in excitement.

Fuck, I need him now, this is too much.

“I need you to fuck me, cut me loose and fuck me. I need to grab you.” I twist in my bindings half trying to break free, half hoping he’ll use the blade to cut the ties so I can pounce, but he doesn’t.

He moves to the bottom of the bed and forces his fingers between my jeans and ankle, then slides the knife in. He twists it to catch the hem of denim and carefully pushes the hilt, sinews in his forearm twitch as he slices the fabric slowly. Our eyes lock together and I hold my breath as the knife runs further up, cold steel teasing my burning flesh. When he reaches the top of my thigh, he retreats and starts on the other leg. I’m so wet. My cunt is yearning in that thrilled and terrified way. He eases his blade up the other side and when both trouser legs are split, he casts the knife aside and grabs at the fabric, tearing and splitting it. My hips are winding and jerking trying to aid his task.

I’m so desperate for him now, at last he manages to tear me free and rips off my knickers, plunging his face to my desperate cunt where he feasts. My body is arching up to meet him and my head twists into my shoulders, noises come from my throat, growly feral noises and as he begins to pump his fingers into me I drift off into that space. That space where I get to watch from outside myself and see what he’s doing to my body. Fucking me with his fingers and tongue, clothes cast aside, my writhing body on the brink. The knife glints in the autumn afternoon sun and I’m back inside myself.

Heat, surging, thrusting, fucking and I tense in my ropes, legs still far apart, hips jerking, him slurping, teasing, eating and fuck… a second of stillness, then I come. I crash my climax all over him. I fill the room with the energy blast of my orgasm. He keeps pounding my clit with his tongue and cunt with his fingers and wave after wave of pleasure pulses through me.

“Fuck me,” I say when the shuddering subsides.

“As you wish,” he says as he reaches over the side of the bed to the knife. He cuts away my bonds…

 

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A note about this story – I was just remembering about this moment this morning when I went to Wicked Wednesday to see the prompt is Memory and then popped over to Kink of the Week to see the prompt is Tearing/Cutting off Clothes – so how could I possibly not have taken part! Thanks for the inspiration Rebel and Molly! x x x click the icons above for more sexy stories

Now, I really need to go do some work, I’ve got a book to edit 🙂 thanks for reading! And as ever, forgive any grammar etc – it’s a quickie x x x

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