This Game of Italian Silk & Leather Restraints

I wanted so much, but he came almost instantly inside me. I could feel it and I knew he hadn't worn a condom. He hadn't worn one earlier either. I felt him leaking out of my body, felt him running down my legs.

He pulled away and smirked. "You're a good slut," he smiled, patting me condescendingly. "A very good slut."

I nodded.

"You get your present now," he growled, tucking himself back into his slacks. "But first-" he reached forward and turned me to face the brick wall. "You need to change," he laughed and I felt him slowly undoing each buckle of the dress. Within a minute, I was naked and the pathetic fishnet lay in a heap on the dirty ground.

"You look like a fucking goddess," he smirked as he scooped me up into his arms. "Now let's go play indoors."

* * *

The apartment was unfurnished. Clearly, whoever lived here- if anyone did- they hadn't put much thought into decoration. The walls were a sallowed white, and the floors lacked carpeting of any sort. There were no couches in the living room, not even a refrigerator in the kitchen. The bathroom was miniscule and while it had the necessary furnishings, it lacked a shower curtain. Strange that I noticed this, but I did.

Paul carried me inside, through the rooms, and brought me into a small bedroom. The walls were painted red and black, a gothic mural adorning the far wall. There were no windows, and only a small light bulb in the ceiling illuminated the room. The bed was a mattress with a flimsy headboard, no box spring and no rollers. There was no comforter, no sheets.

"This is your surprise," he smiled, taking off his jacket and placing it over the back of the one (and only) chair in the room.

I nodded.

"You can speak now," he laughed.

I nodded again. "Not much of a surprise," I challenged him.

He laughed at this and began to unbutton his shirt. "It's what you make of it."

I glanced around the room, and then turned my attention back to Paul. He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it over the chair. His t-shirt beneath quickly followed, followed by his slacks. Clad only in his boxers, he lay down atop the mattress and smirked. "Tie me to the bed," he demanded.

It was then that I realized there was a set of leather restraints fastened to the headboard. A perfect little addition to the unfurnished, bleak landscape of the room. Amused, I did as he instructed, slipping his large wrists into the cuffs, tightening the leather and locking him into place.

"So this is my surprise?" I questioned as I placed his right foot into the last restraint. "I get to torture you and you can't stop me?"

"Torture wasn't exactly my idea," he winked. "But I'm no longer in control. The fantasy is yours now."

"What if my fantasy is to take off and leave you here?" I laughed, sitting on the bed and playing with his hair softly. He had the softest, most amazing chestnut brown hair.

"You're in control," he repeated.

"So no one's going to jump out of the shadows?" I mocked and he laughed. "I'm fully in control?"

He nodded. "Fully."

I pondered this for a moment, then grinned. "No speaking!" I demanded suddenly and he smirked cruelly. "No speaking, unless I tell you to. Do you understand?"

He nodded.

"I'm in control," I said aloud, liking the sound of those words. I wrestled with my ideas and decided instead to focus on removing his boxer-briefs. I couldn't rip them off, and with his legs fastened to the bed removing them was a problem.

"Scissors," he directed and I glanced at the bedside table.

"Don't speak!" I warned him but I took his suggestion and cut the fabric off his body. He was hard already and that excited me further. Grinning down at him, I tossed the scissors and the remnants of his underwear aside. I moved down the line of his body, and rested at the end of the bed. The head of his cock so dangerously close to my lips, I could smell him. His breathing had grown ragged and I enjoyed the sound of his struggles. He was trying not to growl, trying not to make the animalistic noises he always made when I gave him head.

With the thought of his suffering in mind, I leaned forward and took him down my throat as far as I could. A good four inches, perhaps five. I cupped his balls in my right hand, working my tongue over his erection as I bobbed slowly. He tasted of salt and myself and sweat and all things unromantic; the truth is, no man really tastes like candy. I envisioned him to taste like cotton candy, though- and I convinced myself that he was candy. A delicious lollipop. I did my best to suck loudly, to moan, to make as much noise as I possibly could.

To torture him.

He fought his restraints and I knew he wanted to put his hands in my hair. He wanted to force me lower, he wanted to place a finger inside me. But restrained he was unable to do such things. I laughed at this sadistic thought and the vibrations caused him to arch his back and growl.

"Shut up!" I demanded, slapping his thigh.

He whimpered slightly, though whether it was from the pain of the slap or the pleasure of his cock enveloped deep inside my throat I will never know. Whichever the case, I raised myself off his length and took him in my hand. He gazed up at me curious as I rose up, then hovered over his body seductively. "Do you want me to do this?" I questioned, taunting him as I placed my body just inches from the head of his erection. "Do you want to be inside me?"

He nodded furiously.

"Here?" I questioned, pointing toward my moist pussy, then I pointed behind me, to my puckered ass. "Or here?"

His eyes nearly rolled back into his head at this and I laughed. I already knew what I was going to do and his answer really meant nothing. So I turned and faced away from him, shaking my ass in his face before lowering myself into position. Without the help of artificial lube, this was going to be painful. But somehow, I wanted that pain. I wanted to scream his name and know that he couldn't touch me. That he couldn't control the situation.

I was in control as I pressed the head of his engorged cock to my ass. I was in control as it slipped inside and I let out a long growl. I was even in control when I felt the telltale burning and worked him in deeper, before whimpering loudly about his size. And the pain. And the fact that he was tearing me apart. But he wasn't tearing me apart- I was tearing me apart. I was using his body and I was in control.

I fell in love with the feeling of him inside me and me totally in control. So I worked him inside my ass over and over, crying out to him and wishing him a Happy Birthday over and over and over again. Until he finally came and filled me. Till he sprayed my insides and I managed to achieve a porn-star worthy orgasm.

We were porn stars in that moment, Paul and I. I almost wished someone had it on film.

Almost.

* * *

A gentle breath wisped over my ear and I knew I wasn't alone. It wasn't unusual for him to appear randomly in the middle of the night, though; in fact, it was rather common. He had a key to the apartment- and my heart- and that was just how our relationship went.

"You awake?" he inquired softly, running a hand through my newly dyed black tresses. He had never seen me with black hair, and clearly his touch told that he was shocked. Perhaps even, intrigued.

I nodded, rubbing my face slowly into my pillow.

He grinned at this, continuing to twirl his long fingers in my hair. "I thought I'd stop by."

I nodded again. He always stopped by when he was in town. I expected it, looked forward to his random intrusions. He knew I would never object, and a part of me suspected that he also knew that I enjoyed waking up pressed into his body.

"You know," he began, rolling closer, his hot breath tingling my ear. "Your birthday is in a few days."

My breath hitched in my throat, my heartbeat raced.

"I know what you want for your birthday," he cooed lightly and I could feel his strong hands kneading the flesh of my thighs. "I've been dreaming about fulfilling your fantasy," he continued, kissing up my neck. He paused to nibble on my ear. "You know I know what you want, and I'm going to give it to you," he rasped. His breath was hot, his body was warm. I could feel his heat emanating through me. I wanted to push back against him and feel his hardness, wanted to taste him and touch him and be up all night in his arms.

He stopped at that moment, and laughed softly. His hands traveling up my body to cup my breasts. "Say yes," he demanded, allowing a hand to wrap lightly around my throat. "Say yes and I will dominate you and make you my own."

There was no other answer to give to him. I wanted to scream yes, wanted to tell him about my fantasy and the dreams I had had night after night of him. And the mysterious Chris. Did he truly have a band mate named Chris?

I didn't know. All I knew was, I would say anything to have him inside me. Always.

"Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday dear meeeeeeeeeeeeee," Paul sang as he danced around our new apartment. The boxes were not yet unpacked, and our only furniture was a mattress on our bedroom floor.

"It's not your birthday," I laughed, as I tried to reach down and pick up our dinner dishes. It was no use, my overgrown stomach always seemed to be in the way and so I had to wait for Paul to hand me the dishes before I could retreat to the kitchen.

He followed me inside and grinned. "But it is my birthday."

"How so?" I questioned as I began washing the remnants of Chinese food from our plates.

"I found this today," he smirked and patted a black VHS tape. "I think you should check this out."

I nodded, cleaning off the last fork before following him into our bedroom. We had no bed, just a mattress, but he had promptly installed the TV and VCR just as soon as the last of the movers were gone that morning. I had laughed at this, as I laughed at his expression now as he bounced around the room. He placed the tape into the VCR and I watched the screen come to life. There it was, in technicolor.

"See!" he smirked, pointing at the TV. "Now we have something to show the baby when she's born about how she was-"

I just laughed. "We are not showing our daughter porn!"

He shrugged. "I think it's rather educational."

"How so?" I smirked at my idiot husband.

He shrugged at this, shutting off the tape and sliding it into a nearby cardboard box. "Well, for one, it's the story of how she was conceived."

I stared at him in amusement.

"And secondly, I mean, she has to learn anatomy eventually, right?"

"Not yours!" I laughed.

He laughed. "Good point. But most importantly, I think that little Wendy needs to know that women are always in control of men."

"Is that so?" I laughed.

He nodded. "Just watch that tape! You tied me down and-"

"Paul," I laughed, slapping my husband upside the head. "You told me to do that. Besides, it was your birthday and birthday wishes always come true."

"Ohhhhh," Paul taunted, leaning his head on my shoulder and placing a hand onto my stomach. "What do you want for your birthday?"

I thought about it, realizing that it was only days away. I had put so much energy into the events of the past few months, that my birthday had hardly been a consideration. So when he asked, I simply shrugged. "I don't know what I want."

"I know what I want," he smirked, sighing loudly before sitting up and staring at me intently. "I really want a fucking cigarette!"

"PAUL!" I objected.

He raised his hands in mock protest and grinned. "I know, I know."

"I want one too!" I laughed.

"Seriously," he finally sighed, flopping down on the bed and staring at the ceiling. "What do you want for your birthday?"

I thought about the question for the first time in months, before chewing my lip and smirking.

"Well?" he repeated.

"I'd like to relive your birthday," I grinned. "But instead of me wearing the fishnet, this time you get to!"

Paul's face turned white. "Are you serious?"

When I burst into uncontrollable laughter, he finally sighed. "Thank god! I thought you were serious."