She's so fucking beautiful, amber eyes wild as she struggles naked on her marital bed against the silk scarf that secures her wrists. Her breath snorts hot against the hand I've clamped across her mouth, the phone in my other.
The call connects. "Oh hi, this is Leah's... husband." I flick my gaze down to meet hers, flashing with anger. "Sorry to bother you so early, but she won't be coming into work today." I listen a moment. "Oh no, she's just-" I'd love to say something sassy like tied up but daren't raise any suspicion, "-not feeling well and I need to look after her."
Stroking a few stray wisps of bronzed hair behind her ear, I watch her watching me. Seems she can barely believe I'm tarnishing her 'good girl' image with the lie to her boss. I'm the only person in the world that knows she's anything but.
"Yes," I continue, "I'm sure she'll feel much better later and will be back next week." I nod and smile, the ploy approved. "No problem. Enjoy your weekend."
I cut the connection and observe Leah, the daggers in her eyes unable to mask her sheer want. Her nakedness is amplified by my smart casual.
Besides her laboured breathing the room is peaceful, burgeoning summer heat kept at bay by the gently wafting curtains. Reading lights clipped to the metal uprights of the headboard are angled inward, casting her in an off-white lustre.
We’d already fucked this morning. And the night before. My come was still inside her when she woke me by straddling my head, using my face to satisfy the primal urge that had roused her from sleep.
When she shuddered and came over me, I'd rolled her over and hammered into her, adding this morning's pleasure to last night's creamy mess between her thighs.
Somewhat naively, I thought it would sate us. But that was before. Before she'd lain there, tits to die for, teasing fingers inside herself, releasing some of the creamy residue. Before I bent to kiss her goodbye and caught the scent of her. Of us. Before her fingers teasingly grazed my erection.
I’d snapped, grabbed her wrists, wrestled her into the bonds and made the call.
She catches my eye. "I can't believe you did that. He's back today." The worry seems genuine.
I'm already imagining how far out of her mind the prospect of being caught by her husband will drive her.
"Maybe you shouldn't be such a teasing little slut then."
Her jaw drops.
"You're fucking mine now, Leah. If I'm not done with you before he comes home, you'll only have yourself to blame."
I track my fingers across her jawline, down to her throat and play the tips there. Panic and arousal war inside her, the emotions painting her symmetrical features with exquisite desperation.
Nodding at her hands, I command: "Over your head."
She complies, stretching tied wrists to the headboard. Smiling, I drift my touches inward, walking fingertips to ascend the side of a breast and down between them. Stepping up and across the other, I allow my trailing digit to catch its peak with the tiniest brush and smirk at her gasp.
Her terrain is not so different from my wife. Just as soft. Just as sexy. Maybe a little tauter where the yoga has toned and sculpted curves to perfection. But the surface is where the similarities end. It's Leah's mind that excites me beyond compare. Her passion. Her trust. The blazing furnace raging inside her shuddering body that manifests itself in the smouldering intensity of her gaze upon mine.
My wife would baulk at the mere notion of giving me carte blanche over her body, let alone allowing me to restrain her, trusting me to give her what she needs… to take what I need. But Leah? Well…
Circling her shallow tummy button, I work the finger loops larger with each rotation, spiralling until I'm grazing her mons. Her expression tightens as the anticipation infects her.
My voice is low, almost a growl as I trace flesh I'd shaved bare the night before.
"Your pussy's so fucking tasty. But," I cock my head to one side, "when I grabbed the scarf, you know what else I spotted?"
She says nothing.
Removing my hand from her body, I lean across and rummage in the bedside drawer to retrieve her vibrator, studying its shiny smooth shell as she tenses, cheeks flushing.
"I can only imagine the pleasure this has seen."
Floating it to my mouth, I part my lips and slither the phallus inside. It returns wet. I flick the switch and drift the glistening tip to her tummy, hovering so she can feel its vibrations. I dab her and she convulses. I do it again, slightly lower and watch her struggle to keep her hands against the pillow.
The point slips into her belly button for a split second and I draw it away, close enough to still be felt. I methodically skim the surface of her body with the featureless silver device, upward like a metal detector, tracing her contours slowly, ever so slowly until I reach the swell of her chest.
I let the vibrator ascend, creeping until it's poised above an erect nipple, which I swear lengthens. Her body writhes for the touch I dangle out of reach.
Just.
My eyes find hers again. Alive. Yearning for everything. Anything. I let gravity do its job, the vibrator bouncing off the sensitive nipple to return to its hover state in my grasp. Her sharp inhalation makes me twitch in my underwear.
I watch her lips part, wider with every shrinking millimetre of distance as I slip the device to her marshmallow cap. The power is intoxicating.
Her eyes drift closed when I make contact and roll the humming tip around the electrified nipple. She moans.
"Ohhh, God."
With my free hand, I cup her other breast, squeeze the flesh to a point and pinch the base of its tip between thumb and forefinger as I continue to play the toy over her opposite peak.
Leah wriggles beneath me, eyes squeezed shut until I land the vibrator directly on the cap between my fingertips. Her frame jolts taut for a moment, eyes snapping open. I harden fully and let go; skate the device all the way up the edge of her body to her shoulder, then roll inward. Every part of her it skims lights up. Neck. Jaw. Mouth, into which I allow it to slide, letting her hungrily wet the surface. Possessed, she moans around it.
When I withdraw, she snaps impatiently for it. I deny her the satisfaction, trailing it across her chin and over the edge. Her reaction to the throb is thrilling as I crawl it down her throat and scull the slope of one breast, then flash the glistening, pulsing shaft across each nipple.
It's a struggle to keep my composure. Previously automatic tasks such as breathing suddenly require effort. My focus is solely her pleasure, directly connected to the straining bulge beneath my trousers.
Her breath draws deep into her lungs as I approach her core. The anticipation is beautiful; her disappointment palpable when I thumb the switch and let the dormant toy thump to the bed.
She hisses. "Bastard."
Her complaint doesn't last long. My hands, firm on her hips, roll her onto her stomach, arms still outstretched, before I coast the fingertips of one hand to her lower back and work upwards. Inch by glorious inch, I barely touch. Just breeze over the soft hairs that stand on end, creeping higher until I reach her ticklish spot.
I concentrate there. Fuck, watching her contort in blissful agony is amazing, rocking side to side, trying to free her bound wrists long after I end the torturous touches.
I let her calm. Just watch from alongside the bed before climbing on.
Parting her thighs and kneeling between them, my trousers swish against her naked flesh as I slide my hands up her back to curl one into her mane of hair and tug. She obediently rises to her knees and elbows for me, back curved, arse up. Fucking perfection.
Picking up the vibrator again, I switch it on and hold it upright from the pillow, watching her open mouth ease onto its quivering surface. As she sucks and wets the tip against her tongue I sweep my free hand from her shoulders down her back to that delicious, curvy bottom. Massaging the flesh in languorous circles, I tug each cheek up and out, catching fleeting glimpses of the tantalising knot between.
Need wells to take her, gnawing at me.
Drawing the phallus from her mouth, I trail its wet tip up across a cheek to her neck, then along her spine, vertebra by vertebra, until I reach the cleft of her bottom.
Her breathy, "No," is loaded with contradictory desire.
I angle the humming device, pressing it between her cheeks, gentle pressure against the bundle of nerve endings. Her deep gasp lets me know I've hit the perfect spot, each millimetre that penetrates her arse amplifying her lust. Her body flushes and squirms.