the life and musings of a kinky slut

Why I Love Rope


“I want to teach you why I love rope.”

He smiled, and gave a nod of assent.

“Take off your shirt.”

He stood, flinging his t-shirt aside, revealing the chiseled body that still sent my heart a flutter.

I picked up a red 30′ coil. With a flick of my wrist, I watched as the hemp released, rolling through the air.

Biting my lip, I dared look up at him. He was staring at me, right in my eyes. Somehow I knew he would.

Slowly I walked towards him.

“There are many reasons why I like rope.”

Lazily I dragged the hemp across his shoulder as I moved to stand behind him.

“There’s the feel on my skin. The fragrance of natural fiber. The bite of the rope as it cinches in my flesh.”

Standing behind him, I grabbed the rope and pulled his hips back towards my crotch, his ass bumping against me.

“There is the practical aspect.”

I kissed him across the top of his back. On my tippy toes, I nipped his ear, and whispered.

“But then there is the intangible.”

Gently, I moved his arms into the place. I bound his wrists together. I slowly pulled the rope across his chest, my cheek against his flesh as I reached around him. I cinched the rope tight on his torso.

“There is a moment when I start to fall.”

Again I wound around him and cinched.

“My breathing changes.”

Again my ropes encircled him.

“I feel at once completely here and yet far away.”

And once more I reached my rope around him, finishing by tying off the chest harness at his back.

“And though I am bound, I feel free.”

His eyes were closed. His breathing had slowed.

I walked around him, brought my lips to his, and we softly kissed.

My thigh lightly grazed his pants. I knew he now understood why I loved rope.

Categorised as: Erotica | Rope

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