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Mar 31

House of Feathers Ch. 15: Chains of Love

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A stand-alone short following earlier ones in the series. Enjoy!

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I was gathering flowers in the yard after breakfast when I heard the veranda door open.

“Have you seen my…” His voice started, then trailed off.

I smiled at him, then stood up, a web of thin chains shifting across my body.

His eyes, while not quite bugging out, were certainly intently focussed. Without breaking his stare, he attempted to set his tea mug down on the railing.

It took him three tries.

I spun in a slow pirouette. “Just for you,” I said. “A celebration.”

“Wow!” he breathed. “Not that I object, but what did I miss?”

I could see his manhood stiffen. I had counted on that – dress for success, as they say.

“It certainly is an anniversary,” I reminded him. “It was six years ago today that I finally managed to seduce you. I thought this might be a good way to celebrate that.”

“You seduced me?” he asked.

“Mmmm hmmm.”

“Six years today?”

Men – brains like oatmeal sometimes! “Mmmm hmmm.”

He reached out, ran his fingers through the waterfall of chain, lightly stroked my left breast.

“Turn around again, please.”

I did so. This was a visual present for the man I loved, adornment comprised entirely of lengths and lengths of fine gold chain. A thin chain collar around my neck supported dozens of vertical chains running down across my chest to fasten to either side of another chain around my waist. They flowed around my boobs like moving water; my nipples protruding from between them, highlighted the Girls nicely. I thought the effect was pretty exciting – I was pretty sure my boy would agree.

(Not so my strident cousin back home, I knew. I could hear her in the back of my mind -‘demeaning’, ‘pandering’, ‘objectification’, blah, blah. Laughter is too good, sex too much fun for some people. My man and I loved each other, respected each other and delighted in make each other happy. My choosing to dress in a way that pleased the one I loved, caught his interest and would almost inevitably lead to hot sex was all to the good as far as I was concerned. I made a mental note to mail Inga a shawl and some cat food…)

Matching earrings and bracelets decorated both wrists and my left ankle. A fine gold sunburst fitted into my navel. I’d thought of decorating my nipples as well, but realized the waterfall of breast chains did that perfectly. Two more showers of chains ran from the small of my back to my sides, emphasizing my bum.

Finally, two chains went between my legs, from the front to the rear of the waist chain, passing on either side of my labia. Between them were fastened a series of short chains; I could easily fit a finger, maybe two, in between, but nothing larger. The two longer chains were secured in front with a tiny gold padlock no larger than a fingernail.

The padlock was of course entirely symbolic; a six-year-old could have broken it or the chains had somebody foolishly used them to lock up the cookie jar.

The whole array had been surprisingly expensive, but could easily have been stuffed into a demitasse with room to spare.

Mail-order can be so much fun, if you know the right stores.

I’d added some discrete makeup and, unusually for me, a ninja perfume – lethal as hell but so subtle you’d never know it was there.

I leaned in against him, my breasts rubbing his chest.

“Aren’t you glad you said OK to that coffee six years ago?” I asked, smiling my very bestest, brightest smile.

His hands stroked down from my shoulder, along my sides and cupped my bum. Chains slid beneath them. He hugged me tight for a bit. His hands began to wander, at first cupping my breasts. As they moved, the links were in turn dragged across my skin. My nipples hardened. His left hand fondled one while his right slid down my stomach to between my legs. I could feel it move back and forth, seeking a clear path. Suddenly, he backed away and bent down to look.

“What the…?” His eyes focussed on the padlock next. “A chastity belt? That’s what you have for pendik escort me?”

I smiled again and trailed my nails along the underside of his penis. “No, silly. What I have for you is a key. But you’ll have to find it.”

“This,” I gestured at the chains, “was my responsibility. Finding the key is yours.”

I leaned forward and kissed him hard, my fingers closing over his firmness. I stroked it back and forth as we kissed.

I pulled away and put my forefinger on the tip of his nose. “Now be a big boy and go finish your genius engineering… stuff. Do good work.”

His eyes moved over me, lingering on my almost invisible outfit, then down to his erection. It twitched. (How do men do that?)

“Work? Like this?”

“No again, silly.” I knelt in front of him and licked his manhood from base to tip, then took his head in my mouth. I sucked and bobbed my head back and forth, my lips sweeping his shaft. His head swelled in my mouth.

I pulled back and ran a fingertip along it. “See? Not work like that – work like this!” I squeezed him a little, then stood up and slowly spun again before him, chains whirling out a little.

“And no cheating!”

I made sure to be present in his lab more than a few times before lunch. I rubbed against him when I brought him tea and made no attempt to stop his frequent fondling of my bechained body. Stop him? No way – I delighted in every touch! I lingered near him to let him smell my perfume. His eyes followed me constantly. Well, fair’s fair. My eyes did their own lingering.

How fun it was to Play with my lover!

Between-times, in my office, I could hear him making quiet, surreptitious attempts search the villa. I grinned to myself. No – not in the kitchen cupboards, dear. Nor in the freezer – although I hadn’t thought of that myself. Serving him a drink with the key inside an ice cube would have been totally fun. Nor in my bedroom drawers (not that that took very long, given our habitual and almost total absence of clothing). Obviously, he was motivated…

As noon approached, I left my office to make a special lunch – spätzle, grilled onions, a light green salad and a small glass of white wine. I hoped he would remember.

I had to fetch him from his lab. When I entered, he was – finally – hard at work. On the other hand, his penis had grown soft. I guess that was a good thing; I’d have hated for him to get gangrene or something. Well, it had had time to rest…

I approached him from behind and massaged his neck and shoulders for a few minutes. I could feel tension there and smiled to myself, knowing that I (and a couple of ounces of gold chain) was partially responsible. I rubbed a breast across one of his ears, then the other. A chain caught on top of one ear, was dragged along before falling off.

I slipped into his lap and rested my head on his shoulder. One hand fondled one of his nipples. His hands softly stroked my back and thighs.

“Ready for lunch?” I asked.

“In a minute.”

“Oh?”

“Something I want to do first.” His hands started roaming over my body. I wiggled a little; I was as turned on as he was. He lifted me to my feet and, spreading my legs, ran his fingers along the chains between them. Lifting my hair, a finger lifted each earring in inspection.

Ahh! He was thinking the key was part of my jewellery. No such luck for him, but I was enjoying his search.

Giving up, he allowed me to lead him by the hand. Going down the hall, he sniffed. “Something smells good,” he said. I leaned against him as we walked, put my hand around his waist, our hips rubbing together.

“I meant asides from you,” he said, smiling. I smiled back, reached over and patted his resurgent member.

He sat down and noticed the table had been set in posh fashion. As I turned to fetch lunch from the Aga, I saw him take a quick look in the flower vase. Nope!

“So you invited me for a coffee, did you?” he said, looking at the spätzle in surprise. “I on the other hand seem to remember seeing a brilliantly pretty young woman sketching on the Philosophenweg escort pendik and my asking her if she would accept lunch in return for the drawing.”

He remembered!

I leaned forward and kissed him. The chains flowed over my breasts. I reached out over the table to take his hand in mine.

“I thought a small charcoal was a good price for a chance to spend some time with such a good-looking man,” I replied. “The coffee came later.”

“Yes, but lunch was extra special. I mean, even though I really wasn’t paying much attention to the food.”

I smiled. “I seem to recall you spent most of it staring at my boobs.”

“The funny thing about that,” he said, laughing, “is that your boobs were staring back. Especially when the lovely Fraulein was wearing a very thin sundress with no bra.”

He trailed the fingers one of hand up between the chains and over one breast.

My nipple approved.

Both, I mean.

So did my lady-bits. I could feel myself get wet under his touch. So loving, so exciting, so controlled. Such a wonderful man.

“Oh,” I said, “I liked it. Your attention. Then, I mean. Well, now too, but then.” I paused, getting more flustered with his every touch.

I took a deep breath, then plunged on. “I went out that morning with a daring dress, looking for adventure. Or at least to be noticed, I suppose. No woman dresses like that unless she wants to be noticed. I would have felt just terrible if such a beautiful man had ignored them.”

“You looked so solemn when I first asked you to lunch,” he said. “Then you broke into this amazing smile. It was awesome.”

“It still is,” he said, then leaned in and kissed me.

“And I carried your portfolio for the rest of the afternoon,” he continued between bites. “I figured that if I freed up one of your arms, I’d have a better chance to put an arm around your waist.”

“If I’d known that,” I said, moving over to sit in his lap again, “I would have given you my panties to carry.”

He looked at me, quizzically.

“You were amazing, dear – handsome, fit, well-dressed, charming as hell. You made me feel like a countess instead of a poor visiting student. And a doctoral student at the University, too! What wasn’t to like? You’d just popped out of nowhere on the path and within 10 minutes, I was dying to have your hands all over me.”

His hand firmly caressed one breast, pushing thin chain into my skin and dragging across taut nipple. I sighed deeply. His other hand held me by my waist.

I felt his hardness under my thighs. He was breathing deeply; I could smell his desire.

I spun on his lap, straddled him, sitting on the ends of his knees facing him. His hands drew my lips firmly to his. I reached down and tickled behind his scrotum with my fingernails, then massaged deeply behind it, pressing on his prostate. One of his hands raced from my head to my boobs, one continued down to my crotch.

He massaged my mound, rolling it from side to side and up and down, a finger on either side of my landing strip. I could feel the tingle all the way to my toes. Continuing to manipulate my mound with his thumb, a long finger made its way along the chain mesh, feeling its way through a gap to gently stroke my inner lips. This time, I grabbed him and kissed him as hard as I could. Waves of electric pleasure pulsed through my body. When his finger entered my vagina and started rubbing inside, I felt like my nipples were firing bolts of lightning. My head leaned forward to rest on his shoulder.

“Going to tell me where the key is?” he whispered into my ear.

“No.”

He picked me up and placed me on the table and, kneeling between my legs, tried very hard to fit his tongue between, around and behind the chains. He didn’t quite succeed, but was arousing me mightily. He stopped and asked, “How about now?”

Before things went too far, I slid off the table and, kneeling, rolled his member rapidly and firmly between my palms. He closed his eyes. His jaw clenched. I stopped, stood up, leaned in to his ear and whispered back, “No. You’ll have to find pendik escort bayan it. Think hard.”

With that, I got up and started clearing the table. I put an extra wiggle in my hips as I walked and the chains rustled softly together.

I made espresso for us, turning around to cup my boobs at him partway through. His love was as conspicuous as his rigid manhood.

When I brought the coffee, I set it on the table and sat to one side, just out of his reach. To be honest, the chains were turning me on as much as him. Such fun to have the power to excite somebody who loves you, somebody you love!

“And we spent the afternoon just walking and chatting,” I reminded him, “but I can’t remember where we went or what we talked about.”

“We people-watched, mainly,” he said. “Your German was terrible, but with a very sexy accent, one I couldn’t quite place. It went with that smile.”

“What was the name of the restaurant you took me for dinner? I hadn’t eaten so well in months.”

He smiled, “Can’t remember, but I got a kiss for it afterward.”

“A kiss I’d been wanting for hours,” I replied. “And then you walked me home. Such a gentleman.”

And suddenly his eyes flew wide open. “And you invited me in for a coffee. You told me your roommate was going to leave the key…” He bolted from the room. The back door opened and slammed shut.

I got up, walked calmly to the front door, went outside and stood on the door mat, calmly leaning on the door frame. He came sprinting around the villa, his hardness bobbing and weaving as he ran.

He slid to a stop in front of me. “No fair!” he cried. “It’s under there, isn’t it?”

I just smiled.

He tried to pick me up bodily, but I’m a big girl, one clinging to the door frame with both hands. So he cheated.

He began tickling me under my arms. He had me there – I’m absurdly ticklish. I collapsed to the veranda floor, shrieking. Assured of victory, he kept going, running firm teasing fingers up my sides, behind my knees, behind my ears. I rolled beneath him, desperately trying to escape.

“Stop it! I give up! Yes! It’s under there!”

He picked me up off the matt – easily – and put me to one side before brushing the mat aside and then stood triumphantly with the key held above his head.

I stood up and hugged him, reached down and fondled his cock and balls, ran my nails up the inside of one thigh. “You have the key,” I smiled, “but you’re missing one thing.”

His eyebrows went up.

I continued to stroke and fondle, then grinned at him. “Me!”

I turned and sprinted for the beach. Normally, I could outrun him and, if I could make the ocean, he’d never catch me. I loved the man, but he swam like a cow.

I didn’t make three steps.

He tackled me, sweeping me off my feet and over his shoulder before dropping me gently on the lawn beneath him. He started tickling me again and I again started shrieking and thrashing.

Then I stopped, brought his face down firmly to mine with both hands and kissed him firmly. His lips parted and my tongue danced with his.

He reached down to insert himself and realized I was still chained shut. Grinning, he sat up between my legs and from somewhere produced the key. Unlocking the padlock, he dropped it, swept the mesh aside and buried himself in my wetness.

I had been teasing him – and myself – all day and subtlety was not on the cards for either of us. He slammed home, balls-deep, and began hammering me, his eyes closed in concentration. Our stomachs smacked together. Lifting myself on my legs and shoulders, I bucked my hips at every stroke to meet his; we both exploded in less than a minute.

Love was more than a word that day. Mentally, emotionally and physically, love was a real force of nature. I was pleased to bow before it.

Afterwards, lying under him and slowly stroking his back, I heard him murmur, “Thank you, beautiful girl. That was amazing and a well-needed reminder.”

“You are so welcome, sweet man, but speaking of reminders, I haven’t seen you dressed up of late.”

“Most neglectful of me,” he replied. “Forgive me?”

I nibbled an earlobe. “On one condition…”

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