Kissing date: strobe light impressions

The slightly awkward hello of strangers. A few words to reiterate the rules. A blindfold slipped over his head. I held his hand in my lap while I took off my shoes. I kissed his fingers, his palms, gently stroking his bare skin, easing into this intimate contact.

___

He offered to be bound, told me there was ‘stuff’ in the drawer. There was: collar, cuffs, and a clip. No rope. I bound one of his wrists to the bed frame using both cuffs. He started giving me instructions on where to find rope. I stopped him.
“I’m sure if I told you to just keep your other hand there, you’d do it because I told you to.”
“How did you know?”

___

Soft, tender, barely there kisses, floated gently onto his cheeks, his eyes, his forehead, the corners of his mouth. He didn’t reach for me, he waited. Let me explore at my own pace. Accepting my attention.

___

Him lying below me in the dark while I crawled all over him like some feral cat. On this side of him, then that, crouching on him, sitting on him, my knees tight up against my chest curled over him, towering over him straight legged and bending right down to get to his mouth, my weight supported on my arms, moving, shifting, restless, relentless.

___

Violent snarling mouths smashing against each other, clashing teeth, biting his tongue, his lips. Using painful force against him. He winced and made sounds of surrender as I went harder and harder against him. I could feel his relief when I stopped, both of us breathing hard, looking at each other. Then he reached back into it for more over and over again.

___

The wonder at his lips, surprisingly full and amazingly soft. Perhaps a little swollen by the time I paid them close attention. So fucking soft. Slightly freckled, or maybe I imagined that.

___

My knees on either side of his head as I crouched on him, I felt like I was growling, waiting there to get the aggression under control. He turned his face and reached to land gentle kisses on each of my knees. The sweetness, oh.

___

I felt myself wanting all of it, everything at once, which is a feeling I love and miss madly. I tried to be gentle with him, but it felt like he invited me in, I felt it vibrating between us. I wondered if I was imagining it, if I was making it up, if I was wrong. I wasn’t wrong.

___

“Please hurt me more…”
I don’t know where it came from: Curiosity and a desire to give me what I wanted, something, I don’t even know.
“You’ll bruise,” I warned him quietly.
“Whatever you want,” he said.
I repeated myself.
“Anything you want, it’s up to you,” he reiterated before I went for his neck again.

___

His entire body jerking spasmodically from pain for long seconds after I stopped. I wanted to make it happen again, I was afraid I wanted it too much. That it was all too much. Guh. Hot.

___

Overwhelmed by his beauty in those moments when I felt that connection, when he gave me what I wanted, when he felt opened up to me.
“You are so beautiful,” I said.
A truth, plainly stated with wonder and awe.

___

I gripped him by the throat to move his head to where I wanted it, my fingers curled around his jugular, pressure on his jaw, his adams apple shifting under my palm.
“I like your hand around my throat,” he said when I released his mouth and let him breathe.
Oh god.

___

“I’m going to head off soon,” I whispered into his ear.
“Oh…”
He pulled me against him into a strong tight hug and held me there for a few minutes. A different kind of connection.

___

I gave him goodbye kisses, soft, gentle, rather chaste. He accepted them patiently as I gave him a last one over and over. I kept thinking, “Just one more, just one…”
I saw him recognise my hunger rising again even before I grabbed the back of his neck to bring him to me more forcefully, his smile was already forming before I made the move.
He laughed. “Woah, steady on.”
I laughed also. “Shut up.”

___

He offered to show me his holy-fuck-beautiful-eyes properly, in the light, before I left.
“Yes please.”
He turned his face into the only light in the room, watching me.
“Don’t look at me, look into the light!”
He did, he smirked, and he waited.
Light and bright with enough colour to be piercing: stunning electric sky-blue.
Holy fuck, beautiful eyes.