The rain began in the early afternoon, a soft whisper that soon grew into an insistent drumming against the windows. You were curled on the couch, legs tucked beneath a cashmere throw, the faint hum of a documentary a gentle counterpoint to the quiet intimacy of the afternoon. Teddy sat beside you, her hand resting on your thigh as if it had found its true home.
You were both barefoot, dressed in the weekend’s softest luxuries. She was in a silky robe, you in a comfy tee and a pair of pale blue panties she'd chosen during your last Target run. She'd claimed they brought out the hidden depths of your eyes. You weren’t entirely convinced, but her gaze always lingered on them just a little longer, a silent, appreciative warmth.
You stretched languidly, letting your head fall into her lap. She shifted her tablet to the side, her fingers beginning a gentle, rhythmic dance through your hair.
“You’re being extra snuggly today,” she murmured, her voice a calm, amused caress.
You shrugged, eyes closed, a contented sigh escaping your lips. “Rain makes me soft.”
She laughed softly, a low, throaty sound that resonated deep within you. “You were already soft, love. That’s what I adore about you.”
You opened your eyes, looking up at her. The tender honesty in her gaze disarmed you. She simply meant it, with every fiber of her being.
You smiled, a sweet ache blooming in your heart. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“It is,” she said. “You trust me. You let me see you. I know that’s not easy, my love.”
She set her tablet aside, her gaze descending to meet yours. Something new glimmered in her eyes—not mischief, not raw hunger. Something softer. More serious.
“Can I ask you something?” she said, her voice a quiet, almost reverent whisper.
“Anything.”
She paused, a breath held in the air. “Would you ever let me try... more?”
You knew, with a sudden certainty, precisely what she meant. You felt it in the low ache behind your ribs, in the lingering memories of her touch.
“Like... more than touching?” you asked, your voice barely a breath.
She nodded, her eyes steady, unwavering. “Eventually. But I want to take care of you in a new way, love. If you’d ever want that.”
Your pulse jumped, a leap of wonder rather than fear. You let the profound weight of the question settle.
And slowly, deliberately, you nodded. “I think I do want that.”
She smiled then, a warmth blossoming in the center of your chest.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Then when you’re ready... I’ll be here.”
The moment passed, real and unburdened. A door now exquisitely ajar, and you were consumed by a quiet, thrilling curiosity to see what breathtaking wonders awaited on the other side.
It began as just another slow Sunday morning. You were in the bedroom, half-dressed, folding a blanket at the foot of the bed. You didn’t hear her come in. But you felt her. Hands, warm and sure, settled on your hips from behind. You tensed for a second before you exhaled, a soft sound of surrender.
“Caught you,” Teddy murmured, her voice a warm whisper against your ear.
Her hands slid up the sensual curve of your sides and back down, pressing gently into the fabric of your lounge shorts. She just stood behind you, holding you, a perfect fit.
You stayed there, bent slightly forward, the glorious heat blooming in your chest.
“Have I ever told you,” she said softly, her voice a velvet caress, “how much I love this view?”
You chuckled, a low, husky sound. “Once or twice.”
She leaned in, her warm lips pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I don’t think you really believe me.”
“I’m starting to.”
Her hands gripped your hips a little firmer, just enough to make your breath catch. “Good,” she said, her voice deepening. “Because I think about this more than I probably should.”
You turned your head slightly, asking the unspoken question. “Think about what?”
“This,” she whispered, her thumbs brushing in lazy circles where your waistband met your skin. “The way your body leans into mine. The way you let me hold you. The way you melt when I say your name.”
You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. Her words landed low, undeniably electric.
She kissed the back of your neck. “I love when you let me guide things, my love. When you simply surrender.”
“I trust you,” you said quietly, a profound truth.
Her grip eased, transforming into a tender cradle. “That means everything to me.”
You stood together in the hushed intimacy of the room, her chest pressed to your back. Then, with one last gentle squeeze of your hips, she stepped back.
“Come find me when you’re done,” she said, her voice still like velvet. “We’ve got time, all the time in the world.”
She left you there, heart beating a little faster. You knew she was leading you somewhere breathtakingly beautiful. And you were more than ready to follow.
That afternoon, you were stretched out on the couch, basking in the hum of nothing urgent. Teddy walked out of the bedroom, keys jingling softly.
“Come on,” she said, her voice bright with unspoken adventure. “We’re going out.”
You looked up, a pleasant curiosity stirring within you. “Where?”
She grinned. “It’s a surprise.”
You sat up, a playful suspicion dawning. “Is it a surprise like last time when you dragged me to that boutique with all the very specific lingerie?”
She tilted her head. “Mmm. Somewhere in between.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re up to something.”
“I’m always up to something, my love,” she said sweetly.
You followed her out, curious, cautious, but mostly excited. Every time she said “surprise,” it nudged you a little closer to her intoxicating orbit.
The store was tucked away, unassuming. When you stepped inside, the soft lighting and faint, alluring scent of vanilla confirmed what you'd guessed. This was that kind of place.
Your fingers tightened around the hem of your shirt as you followed Teddy past the front display, your heart thudding louder than the mellow music. She walked ahead with utter ease, her confidence palpable. You trailed behind, trying desperately not to look like you were trying not to look.
You paused near a shelf of massage oils, pretending to study a delicate glass bottle while sneaking a furtive glance toward where she’d gracefully wandered, toward a wall lined with harnesses and toys in sleek black boxes, soft pink packaging, and a few... intimidating silhouettes that sent a thrill of fear and excitement through you. Your stomach flipped, a dizzying sensation.
She turned to you with a casual, inviting smile. “Come here, baby.”
You obeyed, drawn by an irresistible pull. She picked up a slim, curved silicone toy. It looked like a smooth dildo. She turned it in her hands. “I’ve been doing some research.”
“Oh?” you managed.
Her eyes flicked up to yours. “I want to find something that feels good for you. Something we can use together. When you’re ready, my love.”
Your throat went utterly dry. “That’s... a lot.”
She nodded. “You’ve been feeling things lately, haven’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”
“It's you,” you said, knowing exactly what she means, “There is something about that makes me feel a certain way.” You could have said it out loud but could not find the strength yet.
“I want this to be slow,” she said, setting the toy down and reaching for your hand. “Something that makes you feel safe and powerful, darling.”
“I don’t know how to say yes,” you admitted, raw with vulnerability.
“You don’t have to,” she said. “You’re here with me. That’s enough, my love.”
She gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “So, slim or do you want to be curved?”
“Whatever you think I’ll like,” you said, utterly surrendering.
She smiled wider. “I already know what you’ll love.”
By the time you stepped through the front door, the very air in the apartment felt different. Heavier. It was vibrating with an unspoken promise. Teddy set the little black bag on the coffee table. The anticipation was palpable.
She turned to face you. “I want tonight to be ours, my love.”
You nodded, unable to form a sound.
She stepped in closer. “Take a shower. Wash the day off, darling. Then meet me in the bedroom.”
“Do I wear anything?” you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry.
Her smile turned slow and deliberate. “No, leave it all to me.”
You whispered, “Okay.”
The water was hot, and you took your time, allowing your muscles to loosen. You stepped out, a towel wrapped loosely around your waist, and walked into the bedroom.
She’d lit a few candles, transforming the room into an intimate sanctuary. She was seated on the edge of the bed, the black bag now open beside her. What truly caught your eye were the two items folded neatly on the blanket in front of her: a silk nightie and a pair of soft panties trimmed with delicate lace.
She held the briefs up between two slender fingers, a silent offering. "These," she said, her voice soft, imbued with profound meaning. "Tonight, I want you in these, my love."
You nodded, drawn by an irresistible pull. She rose to meet you, her hands gently unwrapping the towel from your waist, letting it fall to the floor. She knelt and helped you step into the panties, guiding them up your legs.
Then, with an elegant, unhurried motion, she took the nightie and helped you slip it on, the fabric a whisper of silk against your skin.
"Perfect," she said softly. "Exactly how I want you, darling."
You didn’t know what to say. The praise hit somewhere low and deep, a profound rush of pride. Your hands twitched, unsure what to do.
Teddy reached out and took one of them, lacing her fingers through yours. She brought it to her lips and kissed your knuckles, a tender gesture.
“Lie back on the bed, baby,” she said gently. “Let me take care of you, completely.”
Utterly mesmerized, you did exactly as you were told. Tonight wasn’t about control. It was about profound, unshakeable trust.
You lay back on the bed, the sheets cool beneath your skin. Your breath came in shallow bursts as the full reality of the moment wrapped around you.
Teddy stood at the foot of the bed, her eyes trailing over you slowly. The soft lace of the panties clung to your hips, a delicate frame. You felt her gaze linger on the undeniable testament to your arousal. There was no hiding how hard you were. And she didn’t want you to.
“Hands above your head,” she said gently.
You obeyed instantly, your arms stretching out along the pillows.
She walked around the bed and crawled onto the mattress. Her hands were warm as they moved across your stomach, then down to your hips. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss just below your navel.
“This,” she whispered, “is mine tonight.”
You shivered. She took her time, drawing out the exquisite anticipation. One hand traced along the delicate edge of the panties, the other cupped you through the fabric, applying just enough pressure to make your hips twitch.
“You look so good like this,” she murmured. “Soft. Sweet. Ready.”
Her fingers teased you slowly, delicately, until you moaned, a raw, involuntary sound.
“That’s it,” she whispered. “Let me see you unravel, my love.”
You were breathless by the time she finally slid her hand inside, gripping you without the barrier of fabric. Her strokes were slow, confident, designed to build the exquisite tension. Her thumb brushed lower, circling your entrance, a tantalizing promise.
Your legs shifted slightly. You didn’t stop her. You couldn’t.
“I can feel how much you want this,” she said, her voice low. “You’ve wanted it for a while, haven’t you?”
You nodded, your throat too tight to speak. She kissed you slow and deep, then pulled away with a final, lingering stroke that left you aching.
“Don’t move,” she said, her voice firmer.
She rose from the bed and moved to the edge where the black bag waited. You watched her kneel unzip it and begin to assemble the harness with practiced ease.
Teddy stood at the foot of the bed, silhouetted by the flickering candlelight. Her strap-on was snug across her hips. The toy was nestled at the center, sleek, dark, and firm.
“This is for both of us,” she said quietly. “But you are mine tonight, my love.”
You nodded, a silent, eager “Yes.”
She smiled, crawled up the bed, and kissed your thigh, then your hip, then your stomach. It was a powerful reminder of what you were to her. Her fingers slid beneath your panties. She took a moment, her eyes filled with reverence, before kissing the soft, sensitive skin at the very top of your thigh.
“You’ve been so good for me,” she whispered. “And now I’m going to give you everything, my love.”
She took out a tube and squirted a bit of lube on her fingers. Then she moved your panties to the side. Every so gently her fingers danced in slow circles around your entrance. She kept her eyes on you, watching your expression, adjusting with every twitch, every gasp, every quiet moan you tried desperately to hold back.
When she finally pulled her fingers away, you were trembling, part anticipation, part desperate need, a delicious agony. She kissed your knee, a tender reassurance, then slid up your body, the strap-on brushing softly against your butt as she settled into place above you. She looked deep into your eyes, her gaze burning with an unspoken question.
“Tell me you want this, my love.”
“I want this,” you breathed, the words torn from your soul, a raw, undeniable craving.
She pushed forward slow, and steady. You let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a groan, your hands gripping the sheets, knuckles white, your body caught in that perfect, excruciating edge of pressure and pleasure, of exquisite fullness. She didn’t speak. She moved with you, a silent, intuitive dance.
Every roll of her hips, every sensual grind against you was deliberate, guided by the raw sounds you made, the desperate way your body arched to meet hers. Her hands held your waist, firm and grounding, pulling you closer, deeper, absorbing you into her. You lost your sense of time, of place. There was only the exquisite rhythm she set, the profound pressure, the exhilarating fullness. She whispered praise into your ear between strokes, tender, intoxicating words. “That’s it, my love. Just like that. You’re taking me so well, so beautifully.”
It was overwhelming. Breathtakingly beautiful. Utterly, profoundly complete.
When you finally let go, your body came harder than it ever had before. A wave of cum splashed on your belly, pulse after pulse/ She held you through it, her rhythm unwavering, whispering how good you looked, how much she loved watching you fall apart for her, utterly undone.
You sagged against the mattress, dazed, buzzing with sensation, every nerve ending alive. Teddy leaned down and kissed your cheek, a tender, lingering press, brushing your hair back from your forehead.
“You’re mine,” she whispered, her lips grazing your ear, a fierce, beautiful claim. “Always.”
You didn’t just believe it. You felt it, and it was a deep, pulsing, togetherness.
You were still trembling when she pulled back, your body limp beneath her, flushed and buzzing with the delicious aftershocks of release. Your breath came in soft, uneven bursts, your chest rising and falling as you tried to collect yourself, to gather the shattered pieces of your reality.
Teddy hovered above you, watching you with quiet reverence, like she was seeing you at your most undone, at your most vulnerable, and loving you even more fiercely for it. She didn’t speak as she slid her hand down your stomach, slow and possessive, a warm, lingering touch. You shivered at her touch, exquisitely sensitive, beautifully raw.
Still silent, her eyes were burning with a deep, primal satisfaction. She burshed her fingers along your belly scooping up your cum. Then she brought her fingers to her lips. They didn’t stop there. Your lips parted automatically, a silent, as if your body understood something your mind hadn’t quite caught up to.
She smiled, a slow, knowing, triumphant curve of her lips.
“You’re mine,” she said softly, her voice a profound, intimate declaration.
Then she slipped her fingers past your lips, gently, confidently, urging them deeper. You closed your mouth around them, tasting yourself. It was salty and smooth.
When she pulled her fingers free, she leaned in and kissed you. You kissed her back. It was a sacred vow, a promise whispered across your souls.
Teddy didn’t say anything right away. She just held you. Her hands moved slowly, lovingly, over your skin with soothing strokes down your back. You were still breathing heavily, a soft, ragged sound, but your body was starting to settle. The sharp edge of sensation that gave way to something slower. Something sweeter. A profound peace.
“You were perfect, my love,” she murmured, her voice raw with admiration. “So brave for me.”
You let out a quiet breath. You could still feel the echo of everything she’d done to you in your limbs, your skin, your very heart. Lying there, wrapped around her, felt like the safest, most cherished place in the entire world.
She kept speaking, softly, intimately, like she was casting a sacred spell, weaving a tapestry of devotion. “I love how you trust me. How you let go for me, completely. You don’t know what that means to me, my darling.”
You curled a little tighter against her, your face nuzzling into the soft fabric over her chest, a profound sense of belonging settling over you. “It’s easy with you,” you murmured, the words a tender truth.
She smiled against your hair, a soft, contented sigh. “Good.”
The silence between you was warm now, profound, full of soft breath and shared heartbeat, a symphony of quiet intimacy. Her hand never stopped moving, smoothing your back, playing with your hair, grounding you in the simplest, most loving way. And slowly, sweetly, your body softened completely into hers, a perfect fusion.
The exquisite weight of the night gave way to peaceful sleep, your breathing falling into rhythm with hers, your head nestled against her chest, held like something precious, something irreplaceable. In the soft, intimate dark, as your eyes finally drifted closed, you knew, with absolute certainty: You had never felt more wanted or loved.
Комментарии
Комментариев пока нет.