Spread for Two 

I become aware of my surroundings a little bit at a time.

The first thing I feel is the slight ache in my thigh muscles. My legs are
at a weird angle; they are stretched out and open wide. They aren't
painfully spread, but just a little beyond what is comfortable. As I try to
shift my legs into a more relaxed position, I feel the leather cuffs around
my ankles shift and strain a little as they hold my legs in place.

Another tug from my arms reveals their own situation; they too cuffed, but
to garters of leather around my upper thighs. They are held down to my sides
by this system, leaving my chest and neck exposed.

The feel of heavy silk weighs against my eyelids as the blindfold blocks my
vision.

Other than the leather cuffs and silk blindfold, I am naked. The sheet
beneath me and the cushion under it are very soft and fine. The cushion is
supportive but not stiff and uncomfortable. The room is warm, and occasional
puffs of wind caress my warm clean skin as the fan I can hear in the corner
turns and catches me in its breeze. The air is warm but dry. Other than the
softly humming fan, I can't hear anything else. There's a slight scent in
the air, not quite musk, not floral. It's reminiscent of a perfume oil I
love to wear, but not quite the same.

I drift off into a half sleep for a few moments. Then a weight shifts the
cushion I'm on. There's someone settling down next to my chest. I open my
mouth to speak and I feel a slightly skin rough finger press against my lips
in the universal sign for "hush now." I promptly close my mouth on the
questions just waiting to bubble out.

The finger then traces down from my lips and along my throat. The finger
shifts and its a smooth short nail trailing along my throat where the artery
lies beneath the skin. I shudder a little.

Another shift on the cushion and a weight settles between my legs. I feel
the brush of soft silky hair as the person who is in full view of my sex
takes advantage of how my legs are so wide spread. I feel a tongue open the
lower lips that were barely together. The moisture clings for a second, and
then the tongue laps at my sex again, exposing my clit to his or her view.

The finger that was at my throat continues its downward path, racing
diagonally across my chest to circle around my breast. The slight calluses
on the finger catch on the puckering of the areola as my nipple hardens into
a small pink hill. Another finger, another hand, joins in teasing the other
nipple into hardness.

Warmth spreads across my body as my skin flushes to the sensations. I feel
my sex begin to turn liquid just with the couple of exploratory licks. My
hips, even with the awkward position of my legs, try to rock a little,
hoping to put that tongue into contact with my sex again. The movement is
awarded, and the tongue begins to play over my clit in a maddeningly random
pattern. My hips rock only a little, and each motion strains my thighs even
more.

The hands at my breasts are strong and masculine. They shift from lightly
teasing my nipples to holding my breasts firmly. A warm mouth surrounds a
nipple, sucking it into the play of teeth and tongue. My thought that it is
a man is confirmed by the slight scrape of hair by his short beard and
mustache. My breasts begin to swell and ache, relieved only by the mouth
licking and nibbling at my nipples and the hands gently and firmly squeezing
them.

The tongue between my legs begins to lap at my sex in a rhythm my hips can
follow. I feel a finger slid between the moist folds and enter me. It begins
to thrust in and out in a counterpoint with my hips and the tongue on my
clit. The moan I was holding in the back of my throat tears out of my mouth.
It is rewarded by the mouth on my breasts nipping more harshly, turning into
small bites.

"M-more." The voice is one I barely recognize as my own. It is breathy and
hoarse.

Another finger joins the first finger in my cunt and the mouth on my nipple
leave a moist trail as it goes up my neck. Both hands begin pinching at my
nipples.

I begin to lose control over my voice. Little high-pitched gasps are
interrupted by moans, which are stopped by little cries. A barely
intelligible "more" adds another finger to my cunt, deliciously stretching
me. I feel the orgasm gathering and coiling inside me.

Then the hand in my cunt begins to jab quickly and hard to gasps of "oh
yes."

Then, just as I begin to fall over the edge of my orgasm, at the first
tremor, a number of things happen at once. From the outside, it must look
like a series of choreographed motions. The mouth sliding over my throat
clamps down, biting and sucking like a vampire drinking from the depths of
blood and hunger. The hands at my breasts pinch and twist my nipples into
the point of pain. The mouth on my sex seems to try and suck and swallow my
whole cunt down while the fingers in me slam hard one time and goes still,
pressing solid into me.

The first convulsion of my orgasm lifts my hips off the bed, as far as they
can with my legs retrained. A strangled "Goddess" escapes my mouth, finished
by a small scream. My cunt clamps down on the hand in me.

It's ages, eons, that I spend suspended like that. Hips convulsing,
straining my legs bound in leather. Hands straining against the wrist cuffs,
clutching at the sheet beneath me. Back arched and neck stretched. Breasts
quivering with the sharp pain radiating from my nipples. Behind the lids of
my blindfolded eyes, explosions of dark colors splash across the dark screen
of my vision.

The sensations crash, and my hips hit the bed. The mouth on my sex releases
its suction as the fingers in my cunt slowly slip out of me. My hands
unclench, slightly stiff from holding onto the sheets so tightly. I moan
softly as the teeth at my neck release and the mouth moves away. My nipples
ache a little when the pinching pressure is released. I drag in a breath,
and my throat is a little sore from the moans and gasps I was making.

Hands bush along my body gently. The weights on the cushion shift, and it
seems like the two people trade positions. The slightly roughened hands of
the person who was at my breasts and throat now trail up and down the inside
of my thighs, watching the muscles twitch from the strain of the position
they are held in, and with the remnants of orgasms still sliding along my
body.

Another hand begins to trail across my breasts. It belongs to the other
person. The skin is softer, and the nails longer. I think it's a woman, but
I can't be sure.

The two people wait for my body to continue its drift down out of the
orgasm. I settle down into a contented sigh, and I feel the hands on my
thighs change their caress. Even lighter, barely touching the skin, the
hands trace up and down my whole leg, skirting around to the sides of my
knees. The feeling is almost ticklish, but my body is too relaxed to try to
get away.

The hand drifting over my breasts changed its angle, and the fingernails
slid against my skin. They are smooth and sharp, leaving little trails of
red on my skin. I can't see them, but I can feel the heat trails the marks
leave. My skin is very pale, so I know that for a little while there will be
red marks from all the things that have been done to me.

The hands continue like this, slightly scoring my flesh, slightly tickling
me. I lose track of time again.

Then the roughened male hands slide higher up on the inside of my thighs.
They easily slide into the lips of my sex, still moist from my last orgasm.
It doesn't take long for the inquisitive fingers to bring about more
moisture and heat from my cunt as they play along the lips, my clit, and the
hole of my pussy. Then a finger takes juices from my pussy and spreads it
down. Soon the finger is pushing at the entrance to my anus. As the tip of
the finger stretches me, the feeling of a tongue on my clit relaxes my body
against the intrusion. It seems like no time at all, and I'm pushing against
the finger in my ass, riding it as the owner's mouth and tongue works at my
clit.

The hand at my chest is joined by its mate and the attention of the fingers
is centered on my nipples. A soft feminine mouth comes down and begins to
lick, suck, and bite.

I shudder and gasp. Soon I'm moaning and thrashing as much as my bonds
allow. This time, as my orgasm starts to crash over me, the mouth on my
breasts leaves and I feel a harsh stinging slap on my right breast. I cry
out, and my body clenches and trembles. The hand delivers another slap, this
time to my left breast.

I lose count of the slaps.

The sensation of my orgasm just rolls on, spurred by each slap.

After the slaps stop and as I start to come down from cumming so hard, the
finger in my ass withdraws and the mouth on my clit lifts up. It is replaced
by the hand of the person who was slapping my breasts, who stokes at my clit
enough to keep the orgasm from fading. I hear something open, like a plastic
box. There is a distinctive smell of a cleaning cloth, like a Wet Wipe. The
man's hands return to my hips, cool from the evaporating chemicals from the
cleanser on the towelette.

My hips still thrust with each low wave of orgasm that the fingers on my
clit feed. Suddenly I feel a warm and latex covered intrusion as the man
between my legs begins to probe at my sex with his cock. He shifts his angle
a fraction, and his cock slides home. I gasp and cry out as the hard flesh
slides inside me. The stiff prick stretches me, despite the orgams rippling
through me. He begins to thrust, and my orgasm continues even when the hand
leaves my clit and returns up to my breasts.

The orgasm maintains steady waves of ecstasy that make it hard for my body
to maintain any rhythm. Each wave begins to crash larger and more filled
with each thrust of his body, and soon my body is locked in a giant circuit
of orgasm. I start crying as the pleasure becomes too much. Tears stream
down my face and into my hair, leaving cooling trails of salty moisture.

Suddenly, a mouth is on my throat again, biting and sucking. My body
stiffens, back and hips thrust out as much as possible. The man is slamming
his cock into me, and one of his roughened hands slides up my torso and
cruelly pinches my nipple.

A scream builds up in the back of my throat. I barely let it out when the
darkness behind the blindfold explodes into a brilliant white light and
everything goes blacker than pitch.

The next thing I know, I feel a cold cloth press against my forehead and a
warm and deep voice asking, "Are you alright?" I'm cradled in someone's
arms. I automatically try to sit up, but my body is too limp and
uncoordinated to do it. My legs and hands are free. There is a fire
throbbing in my thighs from being spread and stretched so wide and open. I
feel a ring of pain, surely developing bruises, around my wrists and ankles
from pulling at the cuffs that bound them.

I try to say something, but my throat is too raw. I open my eyes slightly,
and try to nod. Hoarsely, I manage to say, "Goddess, I'm incredible."

I hear a couple of chuckles, one low pitched and one higher, as I sag even
more into the person holding me, my body too liquid to do anything else.