"I hear the ticking of the clock, I'm lying here the room's pitch dark"

The lyrics to "Alone" by Heart echo through my mind . . .

I feel the cool night air on my skin. My mind drifts. My thoughts lingering on the events of the past few hours. The evening started with the usual flipping through Netflix to find something that interested me. The old favourites had no appeal and there was nothing new that drew my attention. The frustration slowly morphed into a different yearning. That yearning that I knew all too well. The yearning that would only grow until answered. I instinctively reached for my phone and sent the message. The answer came moments later. My heart thudded . . . .

I reached her place and the door buzzed open. The single candle in the hallway was answered by a similar glow from the room at the end of the passage. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon hung gently in the air. The candle in the bedroom flickered and the shadows danced over her stunning, graceful body, sculpted by years of dancing. My breath catches as I admire the outline of her long, shapely legs and flat taut stomach. Her firm breasts gently rise and fall. Her nipples erect in the cool night air. She was facing away from me, arms crossed loosely above her head, her wrists already in the handcuffs, waiting to be shackled to the headboard. She knows me so well . . .

I lean over and turn her towards me. Her eyes glowing in the soft light. We kiss, softly at first and then deeper, more passionately, our lips locked in a fevered embrace. My hands caress her, teasing her nipples and drifting gently drifting over the pubis. My mouth moves down her neck, kissing, tongue caressing to her nipples. I linger for a moment, licking, caressing, biting gently and then move down. Her breath catches as my tongue gently flicks her clit. I move between her legs and my mouth engulfs her hot, wet pussy. I savour her sweet taste and musky aroma as I bury my face between her thighs. My hands trace up her stomach to her breasts, squeezing and teasing her nipples. My tongue flicks and licks as my arms press her thighs against my face. Her breathing quickens as my pace increases. She moans as she thrusts her hips upwards, her body shuddering as she orgasms.

I pull away slightly, my breath caressing her engorged clit. Her stomach tightens as my tongue gently flicks. My hand moves downwards. I slip two fingers into her soaking wet pussy. My fingers curve upwards searching out her g-spot. I press upwards, rocking gently as her moans increase. Her back arches up violently announcing another orgasm. Her breathing ragged as I feel her legs clamp tight around me. I don't wait this time. I push her legs open and she cries out as I lick her clit. My tongue and mouth work feverishly. My fingers massage and thrust continuously. Her body trembles and writhes under me as the ecstasy builds and crests yet again. I don't stop. I keep going relentlessly. Her breathing more ragged. Her moans loader and more intense. The crests keep coming and it becomes difficult to distinguish where one orgasm ends and the next starts. She writhes continuously she thrusts upwards savagely, encouraging me to continue. Her body finally collapses as she finally speaks, her voice trembling as she begs "Please stop . . . . I can't anymore".

I relent and gently pull away. Her body tenses uncontrollably as the waves of pleasure wash over her. A light sheen of sweat covers her magnificent body. I move upwards, my mouth seeking out hers. She kisses my slightly bruised lips ever so gently as I undo her restraints. She pulls me closer. She looks at me and I smile as she digs her nails into my back and whispers "I hate you". I roll over and she drapes herself over me, face nestled in my chest as she drifts off to sleep. Her rhythmic breathing matches mine. . . . I close my eyes for only a moment . . . .

I wake. I feel the cool night air on my skin. My mind drifts. My thoughts lingering on the events of the past few hours. I reach for my phone to be stopped by cold metal biting into my wrist. Soft, warm lips engulf me. Oh, how the tables have turned . . .