He pinched her nipples between his fingertips, twisting them and she felt a jolt of arousal shoot through her. But she managed to stave off the sounds that she wanted to make.
Michael’s lips were on her neck and then her earlobe, gently biting at her flesh while inside Elena screamed out “Fuck me. Fuck me.” The words were in her head as Michael’s hands parted her legs as wide as they would go while she was tied to the chair. His hands slid between her legs and his lips pressed against hers.
His hands worked their magic, sliding against her and she tried moving. Michael’s endless loops of rope held her in place and she bit her lip as his fingers danced against her flesh.
Sighs and groans of pleasure rose up within her but she pushed them down. She could not control the wetness dripping from her cunt or the way in which her body reacted to Michael, but she would control the noises she so desperately wanted to make. She would keep the sounds inside as Michael continued to tease her.
She could endure it, she knew. She loved the teasing, loved the way she responded to his touches. All she had to do was keep quiet and push back the sounds. It was a small thing to do for Michael, to show him that she was capable of doing as he ordered, that she was capable of exercising that control.
Michael slid his fingers into Elena’s wet pussy and beneath the blindfold, Elena’s eyes rolled back in her head. The pleasure was exquisite, especially combined with the ropes that kept her in place, but Elena controlled herself. She knew Michael could tell how excited she was; there was no need to tell him or give any verbal cues. Her whimpers died in her throat as she strained to control herself.
“So wet, Elena,” Michael commented and Elena felt a blush of red rise to her cheeks. Though she knew she was soaked, hearing the words from Michael’s lips just made it more real. “I may have to replace this chair.” He chuckled as he said the words, knowing precisely how he was getting to Elena.
Michael withdrew his fingers, slick with Elena’s arousal and placed them to her lips. “Taste,” he said and Elena opened her mouth, her tongue gliding over his offered fingers. She wanted to taste him, taste his fingers and on him she tasted herself.
The feeling of Michael’s fingers only made Elena want more, but she was not in a position to ask – or beg. Having to remain in control of her responses was very difficult for her, but she would. She knew that because it was hard, it was more meaningful. She wanted Michael to know that she could control herself.
Elena could not be still, but she was being quiet. She could; she knew that she could. She felt something incredible soft against her skin – a swatch of silk fabric, maybe? --- and it felt heavenly. She wanted to sigh at the glorious sensation, but she did not. Michael rubbed it against her erect nipples, and Elena shifted in her seat, certain that the wood was going to be ruined by her dripping pussy.
Elena next felt a sensation that made her want to jump out of her seat. She nearly shrieked when the ice cube was pressed against her nipple, the cold water dripping down her stomach, but she bit her lip and kept the sound at bay. He was definitely not playing fair, but then, it was Michael’s game. She really wanted to win, though, as she felt she had more to lose than he did.
Michael made a trail of ice-cold water down Elena’s stomach to her moist pussy, pressing the ice lightly against her clit. “Ah, ah, ah,” Elena called out, not able to help herself. The sensation was too intense and she had to have a release. Michael removed the ice cube and Elena sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said, her breath catching in her throat.
“I know,” Michael said and now Elena had to wait longer. The minutes without Michael’s touch seemed eternal and Elena thought about nothing else but the moment he would be touching her again. Even the teasing, as torturous as it was, was preferable to this lesson in self-control. She would do better; she knew that she could do better.
Sitting in the chair, Elena felt the tightness of the ropes and she tried flexing her hands to loosen the ropes. The chair was hard, unforgiving – particularly when she had to endure being tied up and not touched. She wanted to call out to Michael, to hear his voice comforting her when his hands did not, but she didn’t call out. She waited, straining to hear any sounds in the quiet room, but there was not even a clock ticking by to mark the time.
Michael’s hands were touching her again, glorious touches on her skin and she wanted him inside of her however he wished to be. He brought his lips to hers, pressing against them with an urgency that made Elena hungrily return his kiss.