You look around. Indian Sex You look at them dumbly, as if they had a mind of their own, as if they are betraying you to me. Only now do you let go of one stool leg, for just a moment, to tug at the rope around your wrist, as if testing the reality of your situation. Why are you so…afraid?” You step back, out of your heels, leaving them buried under your clothes. Your mind is racing, seeking the words you need to deny me what I want; to demand that I return your at once to the party upstairs. You are pulled after me as I lower myself still further, until your contact with the floor is lost and you are, in fact, floating…balanced unsteadily as you lay across the stool. And then it was too much. Away from the music. My hands are at your ankles, exploring the textures of rope and flesh with my finger-tips. You carefully, tenderly, pull it from its silk prison, unable to stop yourself from sliding your fingers along the shaft, reveling in its hardness, before tugging and pulling the briefs down and off.
