Page 36 of Forbidden Fruit
I bind the second rope to the first to continue my descent towards her ankles, the flesh peaking through each line in the most delightful way. My movements are controlled but my breathing is ragged. If only she could keep talking. Her soft voice lulls me to a state of calm I’ve rarely experienced before, quieting the dark thoughts.
I want her to tell me how she feels, what she feels. I need her to share that experience with me. Maybe I’m not so defective after all if I’m able to have this connection with her without trying. Though I know I’ve already pushed my luck today. I just can’t seem to stay away anymore.
“Tell me how it feels,” I command, then grimace.
“So bossy.” She clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes but obeys nonetheless, and my lips tip up of their own accord. The sensation is strange. “It feels like a weighted blanket, but all over my legs,” she says, her voice breathy like she’s whispering a secret. “There isn’t a part of them that doesn’t feel the pressure of the ropes. I was expecting them to be uncomfortable, but the way you distribute pressure over all points is very… nice, I guess.”
That’s not the word she wanted to use. I could bet on it, but I don’t press her for more. Anything she gives me fills me with pride and a sense of accomplishment I want to hold on to for a while longer.
“I feel as though I can breathe better and fully relax, which isn’t what I expected.”
“What did you expect?” I ask, lifting my hands to hover over the ropes and Vanessa’s skintight azure yoga shorts as I admire my handiwork and the way her body accepts the ropes.
I get ensnared in her trusting eyes and lift myself up, our bodies so close they could touch with a deep breath. The air around methickens and changes, setting my skin on fire. The rest of the group disappears until there’s only the two of us left inside the bubble of our own making. My eyes drop to her lips, wet and plump from where she just licked them.
“Tell me”, I plead.
“I… expected to feel only…”
“Only what?”
She swallows, then pushes her shoulders back as though readying herself for what comes next.Good girl.
“I expected to feel only arousal. Desire.”
I don’t realise my hands have settled on her hips and my thumbs are tracing circles over the fabric of her shorts, but I don’t stop. “Bondage isn’t always about sex.”
“But it can be?” she asks, a hint of what sounds like hope and curiosity in her soft voice.
This is going too far, but I can’t seem to stop.
“Yes.It can be,” I tell her, the weight of what’s left unsaid heavy between us.
Her pupils dilate to black pools, and I curse myself for being so careless, so stupid. She isn’t meant for me and I’m robbing her of something precious she could be having with someone special, not her boss.
Milo claps his hands together, and I almost jump, the shock of the sound breaking our connection. The look he gives me, with a raised eyebrow and his infamous smirk, tells me he didn’t miss what transpired between Vanessa and I.
I untie her legs before we proceed with the upper body demonstration. We don’t speak or look at each other again. I can feel her eyes on me as I tie, but when I look up, she averts her gaze. My cock strains against the fabric of my pressed pants when she lets out soft sighs that she barely seems to be aware of. She’s reacting so beautifully. Every knot looks good on her skin, her bare arms and back bearing the impact of the ropes with pretty pink marks that have me close to blowing in my pants like a teenager.
It’s been a while since I’ve had a new-to-bondage play partner and the way she relaxes and trusts me with her body makes me want to make it so good for her, to give her everything she asks just so it can be memorable for her.
When Milo announces the end of the workshop, I come back to my senses and step back.
Idrive us home in awkward silence, Vanessa fidgeting next to me like she can’t wait to get out of the car. When we pass the entrance gate of my home, I park and leave her with an unsatisfactory, “See you tomorrow”. Rejection lines her face, but I don’t stop walking until I’m in my living room, wondering what the hell I just did.
“Had a good night?” my father asks, amusement lacing his every word.
I don’t give him an answer, but his knowing eyes follow me through the kitchen as I pour myself a glass of ice-cold water, hoping to cool myself down. It doesn’t work.
“Say hi to Vivi for us,” are his parting words, thrown casually with a wink.
The last thing I need is for my father to tell my meddlesome mother that he saw me come back home with Vanessa. She’ll get ideas. The wrong ones. Like she can find me someone who will tolerate me enough and love my kids like I love them. A headache forms at my temples and I sit, rubbing at them with my elbows on my knees. Nothing that transpired tonight is like me, and I need to take back control.
Apologising to her might be a first step. I crashed her workshop and left her tonight without an explanation. Boundaries need to be reinstated and re-defined. We work together. We participated in the same platonic workshop. I didnotwonder what she would look like inmyropes, naked and begging to be filled while hanging from the ceiling of my bedroom.
I take the baby monitors with me and march to the pool house. This should only take a few minutes. Anxiety ripples deep in my gut, but my mind is set on this. I can make it quick and painless for the both of us, then be back within a short distance of my children in three minutes.
The curtains are drawn but light filters through telling me that Vanessa is still up. I wonder if sleep escapes her like it would me if I even tried to close my eyes.