The Tights That Bind

As soon as we’d checked in and taken the lift up to our room on the top floor, he had poured us both a glass of the prosecco that was waiting for our arrival. We’d barely finished that first glass when he’d wound his free arm around my waist and pulled me close to him. I had felt his growing hardness against my hip, and saw the fire in his eyes. Within minutes we had each other naked and he had made soft, sweet love to me. It was beautiful and slow, a tender reconnecting after a few weeks without any real sexual contact, and it made me feel warm and adored.

Later, after a bite to eat from the room service menu, we sat stretched out on the windowseat, watching the rain falling outside while the waves crashed against the pebbled shoreline. I had pulled on my oversized jumper with a pair of stripey thigh-highs. Apart from a black thong, I was completely nude underneath. He was shirtless, and wearing a pair of grey sweatpants. He ran his hand up and down my thigh, his fingertips tracing the place where the top of my tights met the soft, cool skin of my thighs. I could feel his eyes on me in the half-light, heavy-lidded and hungry, as he slipped his thumb under the elastic and gently stroked my skin.

“You look very sexy in these,” he purred, his voice low and gravelly. “But I know a way to make you look even sexier out of them.”

I raised an eyebrow, playfully.

“Oh yeah?”

“Hmmm,” he murmured and, rising from the seat, he took me by the hand and guided me to the bed. When he had me standing with the backs of my legs just touching the mattress, he reached down to my thighs to grasp the hem of my jumper and pulled it up my body and over my head. My nipples tingled as soon as the air hit my bare flesh. He threw my discarded jumper on a nearby chair, before taking hold of my shoulders and, with a light pressure, guided me to sit on the edge of the mattress.

My eyes were level with his bare stomach, and I leaned forward to run my tongue over his belly button. He groaned and pulled my head away.

“Now, now, bad girl,” he smirked. “I want to play with you first. Scootch back and lie down, face up.”

I giggled, and obeyed his command. The assertive look in his eyes and the dominant edge to his voice told me he had mischievous plans for me, and I immediately felt a thudding in my groin as I lay back and watched him slip off his sweatpants and kneel between my legs. In one fluid movement, he slid my panties off and dropped them onto the floor. With a gentle caress, he took my left leg in his hand and lifted it up to rest on his shoulder. He kissed my instep softly, whilst rolling the stripey stocking up and off. When my left leg was bare, he gently lowered it again before repeating the ritual with my right. He kept his eyes locked with mine the whole time, his bright blue orbs silently communicating his playfully wicked intent. His moves were so languid and measured that I could feel myself getting wet, a tickly trickle of damp teasing my folds and licking the inside of my thighs.

With one of my discarded tights in his hand, he leaned over me and, taking my wrist in his hand, pulled my arm up over my head .

“Stay,” he ordered, and brought my other hand up to meet it, wrists pressed together. He looked down at me, a question in his eyes.

“Yes,” I assured him, simply, and he began to wind the stocking around my wrists, binding them together above my head. He was so close to me, the warm heat of his body mere millimetres from my skin, the animal scent of his pheromones filling my nostrils and making my sex pulse.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he sat back on his haunches and took my other stocking in his hands. Still looking deep into my eyes with his lustful gaze, he tied two knots in the middle of the stripey nylon and with the simple command “Open”, pushed the knot between my teeth. I raised my head to allow him to tie either end of the makeshift gag around my head.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered, and kissed the tip of my nose before climbing off the bed and rummaging through my overnight bag. I heard him plugging something into the mains and my cunt fluttered in anticipation as I realised it was the Magic Wand.

Wielding the wand in one hand, he climbed back onto the mattress and knelt once more between my open legs. He pressed his knees up close to my bottom so that my thighs were resting on his own, my hips raised and cunt open in offering to him.

“Hmmm, I knew you’d look sexy like this,” he murmured, sliding his free hand up and down my leg, positioning me exactly how he wanted me. With a knowing smirk, he switched the wand onto its lowest setting and pressed it against the opening of my pussy, avoiding my clit but allowing the vibrations to tease my wet cavern. I felt my petals fluttering around the head of the toy and sighed behind my gag.

“Hmm, what a pretty pussy,” he cooed, appreciatively. “All pink and wet.”

I wriggled my hips impatiently against the wand, wanting him to press it harder against me, but he simply shook his head and pulled it away.

“Hhhnnggg,” I griped, frustrated. He waited patiently for me to still my writhing hips before placing the wand back to my sopping cunt. I groaned, and tried to keep still and obedient while he teased my slippery oyster. I didn’t know how much torture I’d be able to stand; the sight of him looking down at me, his eyes smirking and glinting with a wicked desire, was making my whole body thrum and throb with need.

He shifted slightly and lowered his head to my breast, drawing my erect nipple into his mouth and sucking it firmly while the toy continued to buzz between my labia. He caught the taut peak in between his teeth and nipped hard, making me groan and growl deep inside my throat, before flicking his tongue briskly over the stinging bud and repeating his warm suckling. My insides trembled and quaked, my bound arms shaking with the desire to rip free of my bondage and hold his head against my chest.

Having taunted and teased my nipple, he leaned back on his haunches and switched the wand up to its next setting. The deep rumbling sensation made me whine, and with one hand gently pulling at my pubic hair, he brought the head of the toy further up towards my clit. He avoided pressing right on it, knowing from previous experience that such strong pressure directly on my bud would tip me immediately over the edge. Nevertheless, the throbbing vibrations so close to my pearl made me let forth a strangled moan.

“Shhh,” he commanded, pulling my hairy nest tighter as punishment. “Be a good girl.”

I raised my head and looked at him squarely, pleading, and biting down hard on my nylon gag. He chuckled.

“Look at you, you naughty bitch. Such a needy little whore.”

With a cruel twinkle in his eyes, he let go of my pubic hair and reached for something at the side of the bed. I didn’t know what until he raised his hand and showed me the thick length of the vibrating dildo. Oh fuck. The wand and the dildo? I wouldn’t last a minute.

He lifted the wand off me and placed it down on the mattress beside my leg while he grabbed the bottle of lube from the bedside table and slicked up the huge dildo. With a slide up and down my moist slit, he pushed the dildo inside my cleft and turned it onto its highest setting before moving it slowly in and out of me. I howled deep in my throat, a strangled sound that rapidly turned to a cry when he took the wand in his other hand and pressed it against the lowest edge of my pubic bone.

The combination of vibrations deep inside me, the head of the dildo rubbing at my inner walls as he thrust it rhythmically in and out, and the powerful throbbing of the wand right over my clitoral hood made me writhe and whimper, my teeth clenching around the knot of the stocking and my throat raw from my suffocated cries.

With his uncanny ability to decipher the precise moment I’m about to fall over the precipice, he pulled away the wand and stilled the thrusting motion of the dildo. I shrieked as I felt the peak subside.

“Uh uh uh,” he tutted. “Patience. You know I’m not going to let you come so soon, you naughty girl.”

“Hhhnnggg,” I howled, the vibration of the dildo buried in my pussy keeping enough of the stimulating sensation inside me to keep me close to the edge. So goddamn close…

Again he pressed the wand down and the orgasm rose once more, making my body shake and quiver. And, yet again, he lifted the toy and left my lingering on the edge of what I could tell was going to be a huge climax. I writhed and yowled behind my gag while he toyed and edged me over and over again, until I could feel the sheet under my back drenched in my sweat and could smell the aroma of my wet sex and my salty, musky skin.

I watched his eyes, smiling, then darkly mischievous, and the sensual curve of his lips as he claimed my body as his plaything; a pliant toy for him to conduct his kinky experiments upon. My whole body was shaking, and I felt as though I was floating outside myself, although I had never been more within and aware of my flesh.

“Are you ready to come for me, darling?”

My teeth clenched, I howled my muffled “yes”, and looked at him pleadingly. With a gentle smile, he thrust the dildo rapidly and pressed the wand directly over my clitoris.

“You’ve been such a good girl. You can come now.”

I needed no further instruction or encouragement, and erupted in an orgasmic frenzy. He withdrew the dildo as my climax began, and immediately my cunt spurted its clear orgasmic fluid all over my wonderful lover’s naked chest.

“Ho!” he laughed, gleefully, and rubbed my juices into his torso with one hand while he used the other to keep the wand trained on my pussy. No sooner would one orgasmic peak start to subside than he’d press the head of the wand firmly against my pleasure zone, in just the right spot to send me hurtling back over the precipice, squirting my juices all over him with each pulsing wave.

He cooed and coaxed me all the way through my throes, murmuring, “Oh, that’s my good girl. Give it all to me, now. Yes sweetheart, that’s right.”

My jaw was clenched so hard from biting down on the gag, and I was practically screaming through my closed and strangled throat, making wild animal sounds that I no longer recognised as my own. When he’d finished playing with me, by which point I had lost count of how many searingly strong orgasms I’d had, he pulled the wand away and let me rest, kissing my forehead and the tip of my nose and whispering, “okay?”

I was drenched in perspiration, my legs were trembling and my arms, restrained as they were above my head, were aching, I was exhausted, completely ravaged and limp like a ragdoll. As he leaned over and untied me, I could smell my scent rising off his sex-flushed chest and see damp beads of my dew dotting his skin. With my arms and mouth now freed, I took one of the stockings from him and wound it playfully around his eyes.

“I need to buy some more pairs of these,” I puffed. “They’re lots of fun…”

He growled, as he blindly lowered himself over me and ran his hard length against my wet slit.

“Hmm, so are you, baby. So are you.”

Feature image courtesy of May More

Click the thumbnail to find more masturbation-inducing wickedness…

25 thoughts on “The Tights That Bind

  1. Love the image of what she was wearing – over-sized jumper and the tights – I must wear that with them – throw in a pumpkin and we have a photo idea 😉
    This was such a hot tale and every witch needs a wand 😉 x

    Liked by 1 person

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