Two beds [MF 40s] [Romantic]

I purposefully reserved a room with two queen-sized beds. I arrived early.

The first thing I did was attach the straps to the corners of the bed by the window. I placed the cuffs on the other side.

I waited. Pacing.

Suddenly your gentle tapping. I open the door. I am awash with emotion when I see you. It is the deepest relief.

I’ve come to expect your aloof greeting. Very little eye contact. Maybe a half-smile. A opinion about the curtains. But I know that is a temporary response.

I carefully take your hand and lead you to one of the beds. I sit opposite you on the other.

“Cuff me, sweet girl,” I say quietly.

You furrow your brow in confusion.


You toss your backpack on the dresser. Then you step towards me and wrap the cuff around my wrist. As you lean over me your hair caresses my cheek. Your scent fills all my empty places. Your cleavage sways softly in front of my face.

You fasten the second cuff around my other wrist and sit down across from me. I strain but can not reach you.

“What is this?” you ask.

I see you again. Your shiny hair. The fierce intelligence in your eyes. The shape of your calves, wrapped in leggings. Your flawless complexion. Breasts I ache for.

“We need to talk,” I say, with unexpected intensity.

A curious smile forms. “About what?”

“Anything. Everything. I miss you. I need that connection with you.”

Your smile widens. “Yes. But what’s with the restraints? I wasn’t expecting bdsm.”

I sigh. Strain against the straps. “This isn’t a bondage kink. I want to touch you so much it hurts. I want to rip your clothes off of you and devour every inch of you. I need to feel you. I’m a fucking wild animal for you.”

With a slight laugh you say “That’s what I want!” And you kick off your shoes, grazing your gorgeous little foot along my shin.

I squirm restlessly. “But I’ve been distant from you. I haven’t talked to you enough. Stuff happened and I withdrew from you. From us.”

“I noticed that,” you respond, “but here we are. We can reconnect.” You take your socks off, quietly proud of your recent pedicure. You put your feet on my knees. I groan softly.

“Reconnect. Yes. Definitely. But I know what will happen. We will fuck until the last possible second…and it will be beautiful. But I need to talk to you. I need to know how you are. How you feel. I need to know where you’ve been. Where I’ve been.”

You take off your jacket and toss it on a chair. Your nipples press wonderfully against the fabric of your tank. “I like that,” you respond. “But why the cuffs?”

I sigh. Again. “Because if we say that we are just going to sit here and talk I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”

I pause. And look into your eyes.

“And I want my desire for you to come out in words.”

You ponder this for a moment in silence.

“I like that.”

You stand up. You grab a pillow and throw it on the floor. I’m confused.

You take off your shirt. Your breasts veiled in lace.

I pull again. Desperately. These are not novelty restraints.

You start to remove your leggings. Slowly. You bend over sliding them down your lovely legs. Just out of my reach. I can see the soft little hairs on your thigh. I can smell your fragrance. Fuck.

You kneel on the pillow. Stunning. You let one strap fall off a shoulder. You look up.

“Talk to me.”

NSFW: yes

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