“Do you like to be in control or out of control?” he elaborated as his fingers lightly caressed the sides of my breasts.
“I don’t want to be in control tonight,” I answered honestly, enjoying his gentle touch.
“How out of control do you want to be?” he asked, barely squeezing my breasts, hefting them in his huge hands. I’ve never had anyone ask me questions like this while exploring my naked flesh in such a sensual way. Fuck! I could feel myself getting wet already.
“What are my choices?” I asked, uncertain where this line of questioning was going but enjoying his overt assessment of my exposed breasts.
“Restrained, out of control?” he asked with his eyebrows raised. As if to emphasize his question, he gently encircled my wrists with his fingers and pulled my arms high over my head.
“I’ve never done that,” I answered, quivering excitedly at the thought.
“Well, let’s take it slowly and see what you like,” he smiled. Keeping my arms over my head, he bent his mouth to my taut nipples and started licking, sucking and nibbling on my sensitive buds. I could already feel myself losing control. What was I doing? I closed my eyes and just let myself enjoy the erotic sensations of his talented mouth. Just when I thought I wouldn’t be able to stand like that any longer, he released my wrists and scooped me up in his powerful arms.
“Let’s take this into the bedroom, Mrs. Alcott,” he smiled as he carried me up the stairs. My feet were draped over one arm while his other arm encircled my shoulders. My cheek rested against his well-built chest and I couldn’t resist flicking my tongue against his dark skin.
“Mmmm,” he whispered. “This is going to be fun, isn’t it?”
He placed me gently in the center of his large bed and I sunk down into the soft dark comforter. While I was still settling onto his bed he pulled my hand to his lips and lightly kissed my palm several times. It was so deliciously unexpected that I didn’t notice he had secured my wrist until he let go and I tried to pull my arm back. By then he was moving around the bed and repeating the action with my other hand. There was a soft leather cuff already attached to the headboard and my arms were now stretched out towards the top corners of his bed.
“You just happen to have handcuffs attached to your bedposts?” I asked as he smoothly massaged my foot while surreptitiously attaching a cuff to my ankle. He shrugged as he carefully pulled my other leg towards the last cuff. I was now spread-eagle on his bed, unable to move while he stood at the foot of the bed surveying his handiwork.
“Apparently I’m not the first woman you’ve had in your bed like this,” I said, trying to sound calmer than I felt. He just shrugged again and I watched the corners of his mouth move slightly like he was amused about something.
“Do you feel out of control?” he asked as he stepped over to a computer that was sitting on a corner table.
“I feel restrained,” I answered, almost challenging him to do more. It might seem funny that I wasn’t scared to be handcuffed to my neighbor’s bed when I hardly knew him and no one was aware I was here but there was something in his manner that invoked an implausible trust.