The smile that binds (c) 2001 Mike Kimera
When I think back, it’s not the leather-padded X-frame, spotlit in her basement, nor the cuffs on her wrists and ankles, nor even her ripe roundness, that makes me hard.
It’s her smile: wide, mischievous, gleeful.
“Tie me. Please,” she said.
I hung her folded body on the cross, arms above her head, ankles strapped to wrists, the plump wet arousal of her labia on display.
Entering her, feeling her flesh grip mine, grinding her groaning sweat-slick body back into the leather cross, pounding her until we both flooded with lust,I wanted nothing more than to deserve that smile.