"The wind in your hair," he enthused, smiling at me.

"Bugs in your teeth," I retorted, hands on my hips.

"You'll love it. It makes you feel free," he said, his voice this rumbling huskiness that didn't hide the irritation.

"It's sheer madness. No way." And this time, I was standing firm. He looked in my eyes and saw I meant it.

"I'll let you wear my jacket?" he tried, now putting this pleading tone in his deep voice and edging closer to where I had tried backing away from him, knowing eventually he'd try to seduce me into it.

"Don't want it. Besides, it looks too sexy on you." I took him in, drinking in the sight before me with eager eyes. He looked so hot. Black leather jacket that fell just below his hips, his long hair tied back but a few stray strands were running free. Worn blue jeans that seemed to accentuate the parts of him I enjoyed staring at when he wasn't watching me look at him. Black boots, the kind with the blunt toes and long enough to disappear up under the hem of his jeans.

He smiled at me, genuinely pleased at the compliment, still just a little shy with me. Looked down at himself and then lifted just his eyes at me. Even they were smiling. "Yeah? You think I look sexy?"

One more little step, almost like it was by accident, but it was on purpose. He knew he had me and he was pressing his advantage. I could back up, get away from him, but it would have been a bit too obvious that he was intimidating me again; just his presence had that ability. So instead, I stood firm and let him sneak an arm around my waist, his warm hand resting on the small of my back as his lips pressed in slow, moist against my forehead.

"C'mon, baby. It's just a motorcycle. Millions of people ride them. It's a beautiful day. And you said it's just an hour's drive up into the hills to the cabin, right?" Doing me in with his voice.  Doing it very much on purpose, I was sure. Making me wet and it was with just that damned voice of his. "Besides, I know you better than this. I know you dig adventure. Otherwise, why would you have ever gone out with me in the first place?"

My mouth was already showing it had a mind of its own. It was even then finding a perfect spot to nestle in - that little spot just where the underside of his jaw meets his throat, right in that soft curve that feels so good to kiss. "Dunno why I went out with you, Josh. The first time. Must be the masochist in me."

I felt his chuckle against my lips because they were in the perfect spot. I also felt the next thing, that deep swallow he did when my entire body seemed to nestle against his front, squirming into him to find the best fit.

"None of this, now, love. It's time to hit the road," he muttered. Probably figuring he should strike while he had my lust in overdrive. His hands were still caressing me in stroking motions even as he was pushing me just inches away from his body. And then in one smooth, quick movement, he had my hand firmly tucked in his and my little overnight bag in his other hand and he was moving me out of the safety of my house.

I probably would have put up a fight. But, you know, there was just something about the man in black leather. Am I a total wanton to have been so easily swayed by the sight, feel and smell of him in leather? All I know is, when I was able to think about something, it was almost too late. He was tucking my bag inside the motorcycle's storage compartment and handing me a helmet.

"Um. Wait. Let's just discuss this again, Josh," I tried.

He studied me as he popped the helmet down over my head and his fingers began cinching in the chinstrap. Peered long and hard into my eyes. "Are you scared, love?"

I nodded and felt myself blush. "Just a little," I whined, and held two fingers out, about an inch apart, just to show him how much.

He dropped his voice real deep, saying, "You know I'll protect you, right? You trust me?"

Goddamn. That just sounded too sexy coming out of his mouth. My whole lower middle section was a puddle at the mental imagery that conjured up in me. I wondered if he could smell it because he got this sweet, satisfied grin on his face. "Yeah, I do trust you. You wouldn't let anything bad happen to me, would you?"

And immediately lost my train of thought. All because he pulled these gloves out of his pocket and all I was capable of doing was watching as his fingers disappeared inside and then reappeared. See, they were black leather gloves. Made special for riding, he told me. They covered his big hands - all except his fingers, which were a whole other part of his body that I'd been known to perve on. And those gloves ... Lord, but they just did things to me.

But a mere few seconds later, he ruined it all.

"What ... is ... that?" I asked him, my voice getting shaky in alarm.

"What?" He looked at me, his eyes puzzled, as he realized I was staring at the top of his head. "A helmet. Never seen one?"

"Yeah, seen 'em. Sure. But ... You know? Could you have possibly searched just a little longer so you could have found one that was just a bit uglier on you? You look like Elmer Fudd in that thing." I shook my head at him as he got this surprised look on his face. "In the space of time it took you to hoist that horrid thing atop your head, you just chased away every thought I ever had of you looking sexy."

"Piss off," he growled at me, this little blush warming his cheeks. "I hate wearing helmets but it's the fucking law in this state. So I got the smallest one I could. I don't wear it for the looks."

"Good thing," I muttered. "I'm gonna have to shut my eyes while you wear it because otherwise I'll never be interested in you again."

"What?" His loud voice because he knew I'd said something nasty but I'd thankfully said it low enough that I could convincingly ignore it and just smile at him, like it was nothing.

I shut my eyes. Truly, I did. That's how bad he looked in the helmet. And I didn't want to let go of the lust in my heart. I liked the way my lust kicked into overdrive when I saw him. And the whole idea of going to my family's cabin was to let me have the chance to let my lust run wild and free with him. No one else for miles around, totally secluded, wonderfully decadent.

"Whatcha waiting for?" he asked me. "Get on."

Opened my eyes and kept them looking down. I warned my eyes. 'Eyes,' I said to them, 'just look at him from the waist down.'

"My, Josh. I've never noticed what ... um ... well, you certainly have nice big feet, don't you?" I said. Surprised I'd never taken note of this attribute before. "Must be true what they say, eh?"

He made a noise something like a snort and I guessed he found that statement highly amusing. His hand was stretched out toward me. I took it and let him draw me close to where he was already straddling his big motorcycle. One deep, long, heart felt gulp and I stepped on the little metal footrest he indicated.

"Good girl. Just swing your leg over and climb on behind me," he said, trying to make his voice a soothing balm to my nerves. It was working, too. "Now, you'll want to hold on to me so you don't fall off."

As he fired up the monster that suddenly seemed a bit too alive to me, I took stock of myself. My heart was bumping hard against the walls of my chest. My palms were sweating and I gripped into the fabric of his jeans where I was holding him at his hips. My head was trying to figure out how I'd ever gotten so stupid. And my throat was swelling with the words of surrender that wanted to come out. Please let me off, I whispered inside myself.

But, too late. He was already moving us forward. As we left the driveway, I felt the bump down into the street and thought I was coming off the motorcycle. A loud whimper escaped my lips. He turned his head to me, saying, "You're doing fine, love. Put your arms around my waist and snuggle in so you'll be more secure. Don't wanna lose you now, do we?"

Didn't need a second invitation. My arms gripped him tightly and I moved right up against his broad back.

I was leaning in so hard to him that I wasn't looking around. I was staring straight into his leather jacket and saying every novena I could remember from my Catholic schoolgirl past. When he stopped at a red light, he loosened the death hold I had on his waist so he could turn part way toward me. One look into my wide open eyes and he said, "Relax, Tina. You're gonna love this."

And it seemed like in just five minutes, we were leaving the city behind us and there we were, out on the open road. He was right, damn him. I was loving it. There was something about being out in the elements, about not being within the tin and glass confines of a car. You really felt like you were one with the world in a way I never expected. The wind was whipping around us. Nothing separated me from the bits of nature we passed. I felt like I had been let in on a secret joke, like I finally understood why people rode these monsters.

With no conscious thought behind it, I suddenly let out a loud and joyful whoop. He grinned at me over his shoulder and I laughed at the sheer exhilaration of the feeling. By the time we stopped at the crossroads to the state highway leading up into the hills where the cabin was located, I was captivated by the freedom of the ride.

"Your hands are cold," he told me, touching them and then turning toward me so I could hear his voice. "Why don't you go on and put them in my pockets? Just don't stop holding on to me, okay?"

Ah, wasn't that sweet? Worried about my chilly mitts? I couldn't stop smiling this secret smile at the way that felt and I slipped my hands inside his pockets. It seemed so intimate. I nestled in a little more against him and smelled in the scent of leather again.

And my now-warm hands took advantage of him. I nudged them toward his middle and then down slightly until I felt the rise of his belt buckle beneath my hands. Moved them a little lower on him, massaging him, feeling him rise to the challenge. And also feeling him shift in his seat.

"Knock it off," he growled, real loud, but not very convincingly. I kept it up because it felt good and because ... well, he was at my mercy, now, wasn't he? He slowed the motorcycle down, leaned back, calling to me over his shoulder, "I'm about to wrap this bike around a fucking tree if you don't stop feeling me up like that."

Oh, well, in that case. So, I stopped and simply held on to him. But inside it made me laugh. I also knew he was going to get me for that ... eventually.

"Tina? Is this the turn off?" he asked me, nudging me with his elbow and indicating with his head.

Thank goodness one of us was paying attention. I would have missed it and I'd driven this route more times than I could possibly count. As soon as we turned on to the road leading toward the cabin from the highway, we were enveloped in green. The sycamores and maples stretched their limbs completely over the small one-lane gravel road. I loved hearing the light crunch beneath the wheels. It took us another twenty minutes of slow weaving from the gravel road to the long, dirt driveway that ended at the cabin.

I'd gotten so comfortable nestled behind his big body on that big bike that by the time we pulled up to the front deck, I felt almost drowsy with my contentment. He stopped the motorcycle, turned off the engine and I didn't move. I really was enjoying holding my arms around him. The feel of leather against my cheek and chest. The smell of it filling me with wanton, urgent images.

He shifted and I shifted with him. Didn't want to let him go ... not just yet.

"Tina?" Holding a hand out to me. "Want some help getting off?"

Sighing deep in my chest because the ride was over. Funny that. But I took his hand and let him help me off while I reminded my eyes not to look above his waist. After I had both legs off the bike and under me, I went to walk up to the cabin's steps but he still had hold of my hand. Forgetting what I'd just ordered my eyes to do, I looked up at him just as his other hand was getting that god-awful helmet off his glorious head of hair.

"C'mere." Pulling me toward him, his voice a deep purr that did evil things to me. His face serious, his eyes intent on me. Making my lust wonder if there were boundaries it couldn't pass. "Did you enjoy the ride?"

Right up against where he was still sitting proudly atop his motorcycle. He still had my hand in his but he'd moved it to behind his back and I edged in closer. Looking directly in his eyes, saying, "Yeah, I did. You can take me riding on that anytime you want."

"Yeah?" Dropping his voice to that seductive whiskey-rough whisper that made me want to be even closer to be sure I didn't miss even the tiniest uttering. Giving me the grace of a light kiss on the lips before his mouth lent its warm wetness to first my cheek and then my neck.

By then, I was almost draped around him. My hands were running up and down his leather-clad arms and back. I was watching the way his neck corded as he bent to kiss the shoulder he was trying to bare.

Before I realized what he was up to, he was dragging my leg across the bike's fuselage and he had me sliding into place in front of him. Then his hands swept down the underside of my thighs and he wrapped my legs around behind him.

"How do you like riding up here then?" he asked me in that too-damned-hot husky voice he employed at his whim to do me in.

"Better view, that's for sure," I replied quickly and watched him grin at my smart mouth.

His hands cupped my face. It was the most curious feeling. His fingers, warm and slightly calloused, stroked along my cheek and jaw line. But with the gloves covering his palms, I felt the odd and different sensation of leather pressing smoothly along my neck at the same time. Like his hands were a mixture of two wonderful textures. The leather's smooth coolness seemed to accentuate the warmth and dexterity of his thick fingers.

When his fingers left my face, he was studying me. I wondered if he could see the way that experience of his half-gloves had felt to me. His eyes kept mine locked to his as he unbuttoned my shirt. I know my breathing got a little ragged when he opened my shirt and swiftly released the front hook of my bra.

But, I literally gasped long and loud when his half-leather clad hands first caressed my breasts. His eyebrows rose as this surprised "Oh God" came slowly sliding out of my mouth when his fingers tweaked my nipples so lightly. The play between the warring textures was that much more intense on my suddenly sensitive breasts.

My hands came over his and I helped him massage me. My head went slowly back as I shut my eyes and gave myself over to the experience's tactile ecstasy. I felt his lips against my throat and the first tremors that signaled an impending orgasm were teasing me.

"I'm going to come, Josh," I whispered to him. "Make me come, baby."

He shook my hands off his and grabbed my hips, heaving me up against his hardness even while his mouth descended over the nipple of first one and then the other breast. Between his mouth and tongue, he was a master. He commanded my body and it always obeyed.

Holding me close while I simply shook in his arms and moaned in disbelief that he could do this for me. When I was still, he whispered against my ear, "That looked like fun, baby."

"Unbelievable. Must be the leather," I whispered back, still in awe. I told him about the way the gloves had felt against my skin and I got this slow, wicked smirk in reply.

Big hands around my waist picking me up and forcing me to stand on the ground. Nudging me impatiently into the cabin, he was unzipping his jeans almost before the door shut behind us.

"Leave the jacket on, okay?" I told him, shedding my own jeans as soon as I saw what he was up to. "And the gloves, too, big boy."

Advancing on me, a definite glint in those eyes of trickster green. "Developing a leather fetish, love? Or have you been hiding something from me?"

"New fetish. Definitely. But then I think you're just one big fetish for me, lover," I told him.

Damn. The sight of him. Those fucking thighs of his were so perfect and strong. And the package ... oh so proudly at attention ... damn. When he reached me, I unzipped his jacket and unbuttoned the shirt he was wearing and now ... oh sweet Lord. That chest peeking through but with the black leather framing it and accentuating those broad shoulders. At that moment, I think he could have asked me anything and I would have done just about anything to do it for him.

He didn't give me much time to simply stare at the picture he presented to me. Nope. In no time, he had my ass pushed up atop the edge of the big redwood dining table that had been in my family for at least three generations. Slut that I was happily engaged in being at that moment, it never even flitted into my brain the image of doing it with him right there where I'd shared many a meal with my 'wouldn't-they-be-scandalized-if-they-only-knew' family.

I was leaning in to him, kissing hard and probing along his chest, my hands trying to figure out how to hold both his ass and his cock at the same time. He finally just pushed my hands to stay latched on to his cock. I smiled up at him and found him with this funny look on his face. Raised my eyebrows in question; his answer was to bend down and shove his tongue down my throat.

Pressing into me so hard that he was bending me backwards, his hands on the small of my back making me want to arc around them. I was gripping the lapels of his open jacket like I was hanging on for dear life as he forced me, by inches, down onto my back.

Raising his head slowly from me, he placed his hands on my breasts and watched me writhe beneath him as he rubbed me. "Like the way that feels, Tina, babe?"

Nodding, cooing, mmm-hmming. And my noises turned into a most indecent hum when he began touching the rest of my skin with those hands clad partly in soft, supple leather. Every place he'd pause on, my body would arch toward. My will gone, I was left only with the ability to react to his ministrations. By the time he'd worked down my torso and then started coming up from my knees toward my thighs, I knew I was dripping wet. But when his fingers actually touched there, between my thighs, I could hear just how wet I was.

Lost in the experience, I was shocked to feel his warm gust of a breath blow across my clit. I looked down just in time to witness his tongue reaching for me there. My hips lifted toward him and he licked into my slit hard. "Oh fucking Christ," I muttered deep in my throat, my head arching back against the table.

By the time his tongue was flicking at my engorged clit and he had slipped two fingers inside me, I was only able to whimper and writhe.

"Like that, love?" he asked me, rising over me, still working me hard with his fingers. I grunted out my approval and begged him to suck me. He gave me that cocky grin of his, the one that said 'I know exactly what I'm doing to you and I'm doing it very much on purpose.' It made me come. Unexpected. Sharp. Frustrating.

"Please, Josh," I begged him. "Don't be a bastard."

And without warning, he was on top of me. Leaning on his elbows, his face inches from mine, his body stretched over mine. Stock-still and studying me intently. I could feel the coolness of his leather jacket where it touched my skin. The open zipper's edges skritched along my tender breasts. My hands fondled the leather covering his biceps and I watched the way the leather gave in to my grip.

But he still didn't move. I wiggled against him and looked back in his eyes. They were so dark and so focused on me that my breath caught at the impact.

"Why is it you're having such a fucking hot reaction to leather?" he asked me, his voice a soft, growling shot of whiskey.

Out of my mouth. Words I never thought about, words I simply spoke without considering the implications. "The element of danger. It brings out the bad boy in you and that turns me on. Because I think you could be such a good bad boy if you wanted to be."

His eyes seemed to get a bit harder. He watched himself take one of his fingers and trace a line down my face, along my jaw and down my throat. When the finger stopped in that space between my breasts, his eyes snapped back to mine. His serious voice said: "You wouldn't be able to handle my bad boy."

As his mouth dipped down and suckled at one of my nipples, I shook just a bit. That look he'd given me. That warning. Genuine? Or was he playing some mind game with me? Trying to entice me into something by seeing if I'd rise to his challenge? Either way, it fascinated me - this idea that there was a side to him he was intentionally holding back from me. "I wouldn't be too sure about that, Josh. You don't really know me that well yet," I said.

He paused for a fleeting moment. And then I felt his mouth grip harder around the bit of my breast he held there. With a light growl I'd never heard from him before, he nipped me with his teeth and I couldn't help the little cry of surprise that came out of me.

"Tina, don't tempt me. You might be biting off more than you can chew," he said, his face back before mine and his eyes still wearing that look of intensity. He rose away from me, standing upright and looking down at where I was atop the table.

I reached up, grabbing onto the open edges of his jacket and hoisted myself up toward him. Finally able to grip the jacket's rolled lapels and I was sitting right up against him, my legs on either side of his, holding him in to me. My chest was pressed inside his jacket, against the skin I'd bared beneath his shirt.

Looking boldly into his eyes, tilting my chin to meet his intense gaze, I said, "Are we just talking a bit of rough stuff? I think you'd be surprised by how I'd feel about that. My bad girl might scare you a lot more than your bad boy will intimidate me."

He lowered himself, resting his palms on the table on either side of me, so he was eyeball to eyeball with me. Growling in this restrained voice, "Yeah? Get real, Tina. I can intimidate the fuck out of you and all I ever have to do is look at you."

The shiver of anticipation ... I couldn't control it and I knew he saw it. But, I gamely whispered, "Show me just how bad you can be."

Cocking an eyebrow at me in response. Coldness in his eyes. "You're sure you want to play this game with me?"

When I nodded, he stood away from me, looked me up and down, as if he was appraising my ability to handle it. Then he told me to lie back down and when I didn't respond quickly enough, he lashed out at me. "I said put your fucking back on the table, Tina. Now. Just stay there and I'll be back in a bit. Don't move."

On my back and examining the ceiling above me. Listening to him walk away from me and turning to watch him as he disappeared inside the master bedroom. Alone with my thoughts and wondering what was going to happen. Truth be told, all I'd really expected was that he might take me a bit rougher or that he'd simply fuck me with abandon and not worry the least bit about whether or not I came.

The biggest truth? I trusted him. I always had. Ever since the first time he'd touched me in a way that told me he wanted me. There was just something about him that told me he'd be the dominating one in any sexual situation, even when he was letting me call the shots, but that he would never abuse his power.

Power. He had it, in spades. It was more than just the physical power he had in that body of his. It was probably the mental power he had that intimidated me more. But I always thought he was even more aware of his power than I ever was.

I heard him walking back toward me and our eyes met as he neared the table. "Sit up," he ordered.

Up and alert, instantly obeying him. His hands reached for my face and he pulled me into this hard, probing kiss. As his lips left mine, he whispered, "Close your eyes."

Something in the timbre of that whisper did me in. Impacting me harder than any loud voice he might have used. I clamped my eyes shut and startled when I felt him wrap something around them, pulling it tight and then tying it securely behind my head.

His mouth at my ear. Rough whisper. "One last chance, Tina. You wanna call this off?"

Shaking my head, tentative. Feeling my heart race, wondering why just the act of being blindfolded was having such a massive impact. Knowing if I went any further with him, I was going into uncharted territory. Just how much did I trust him?

Hands on me. Exploring me. Rough and possessive. As if he was marking my flesh as now belonging to him.

Mouth on mine. Forcing mine open. I felt his teeth pressing into me, that's how hard he was kissing me.

I reached under his jacket and had just gotten my hands on his flesh when he grabbed my hands and shoved them behind me. "No fucking touching me," he ordered. "You're not in charge here, baby. I am. We'll do what I want. Got it?"

He never gave me a chance to answer. Instead, he grabbed me off the table and as soon as my bare feet touched the floor, he turned me around and bent me over the table. He propelled me forward and I gasped when my hips felt the edge of the wood. Behind me, he was so close that I felt the open edges of his jacket slapping against me as he put a knee in between my legs. Hands on my hips, he pulled me back toward him and his knee rubbed against my dripping sex.

"You may be right, Tina," he ground out to me. "You're so fucking wet that maybe you will like this."

I braced myself against the table with my hands and didn't fail to notice how my arms were shaking as badly as my knees were wobbling. "Baby, just do it to me," I told him, wanting him to fuck me so hard. Right there. Right then.

His mouth at my ear again. Hard voice, dripping with sex: "I don't want you to talk. You'll have some other things to do with that mouth but talking's not one of them."

Oh, yeah. Running dialogue in my head: 'do it. do it. do it now. fuck me hard and put me up wet.' Now getting into the game more than I would have thought possible. Feeling the head of his cock at my opening and shoving back to impale myself on it.

But, he pulled back away from me and this evil amused chuckle came from him. "You have to earn that, baby," he said. "I'm not quite ready to give it to you."

"Please, Josh?" I whined, thinking he wanted me to beg for it, then moving my hand to stroke him.

He grabbed my hand and used it to pivot me around to where I was facing him. "What part of 'no talking' was too hard for you to understand?"

And he was shoving me to my knees, using his hand to put his cock up to my mouth, telling me to open up and suck him.

No. Fucking Jesus on a Cross. I didn't like being forced, being expected ... but, then, if that's so - why was I eagerly inhaling his cock? Like it was manna from heaven. Like the soft taste of the pre-cum was my reward. And, my dear, frankly? Technique be damned - all I really cared about in that instant was making him come into me.

I could hear him groaning and giving me these 'oh, yeah, baby, suck it hard' pieces of encouragement. But then he was grabbing at my hair and using it to stop me, pulling me off him and I was reaching up to smack his hands away and grumbling at him for hurting me. "Stop it, Josh," I told him.

He yanked me to my feet and I felt his arms gripping into my biceps as he pulled me up on my toes. I couldn't see him, didn't need to. Could see him in my mind's eye - that look of intense control. "You calling it quits, Tina? Enough, baby? Fuck, I was just getting started."

"I just didn't want you to pull my hair anymore. That hurt," I told him in this trembling voice because I was starting to really wonder what I was involved in with him. Maybe ... no, no maybes - this was pushing me in a way I hadn't expected.

His hands eased in their grip and he let me drift back down to stand on my feet. I felt him lean over me and then his mouth was kissing my head as his hands patted me gently along my scalp. "I'm sorry, baby." Dropping out of character just long enough to reassure me that he was still in control of himself. And then instantly turning back on a dime, growling, "I'm ready for more. How about you?"

Shifting unsteadily between the extremes he'd just shown me. Any fear I'd been feeling seemed to ease at the recognition that this was, after all, a game to him. "Y-yes," I whispered to him and he responded with another rudely intrusive kiss that almost bent me over backwards with its physicality.

"Come with me," he said, gripping my wrist to pull me behind him. Stumbling after him, when I felt the bushy throw rug that was in front of the fireplace, I was pretty sure he was taking me into the master bedroom. And wondered again ... what had I embarked upon? What did he intend to do?

When he stopped, he pulled me in front of him and told me to crawl up on the bed. "Lie on your belly," he said, his tone sharp and short. I did as ordered and felt him come onto the bed with me. His knees straddled me at the waist and his mouth was at my ear, "Ready to give up control to me?"

My response was instantaneous - I nodded and felt myself gush wetness below. It was something about the threat behind the words. Did I dare admit to him the fantasies I'd always relished? The ones that ...

"What ... wait ... Josh?" I struggled against him when I felt him wrap something around first one and then the other wrist. In the struggle, I realized he was binding me to the bed. I'd never done anything like that before; the closest to any sort of bondage had been some playfulness with an early lover.

"Open your mouth for me, love," he purred out. When I did, he put fabric in and tied it behind my head, gagging me and I bucked against him in slight panic. "Still trust me, Tina?"

It made me calm. I nodded. But I wondered at the way my heart fluttered at the situation I was now in with him.

"Wondering why I've got the gag in?" he murmured in my ear. He was no longer straddling me. Now he was lying stretched out next to me and his fingers were pushing the hair out of my face. "I want you to feel free to really let go and scream. 'Cause I think you're gonna feel like screaming before too long."

I felt his warm hand caress my ass. I jumped when he pinched it hard. When he did it again, I kind of wiggled and let out a little giggle. Still murmuring in my ear, he said, "You like that, don't you? A bit of rough? That's good because I personally believe a bit of spanking tends to calm a woman down. Makes her fuck just a bit hotter, know what I mean?"

His hand smacking me on the tender underside of my ass cheeks made me gasp into the gag. I was trying to move away from his hand. It wasn't really hurting me, but the smacks were definitely stinging and it only took three to make those cheeks feel red and hot. And to remind me that he was calling the shots and I really couldn't do anything to stop him.

Oh. God. No. His hands. Settling in over the hot flesh he'd just created as he shifted and moved behind me. He was exploring the welts his hand had raised and rubbing them enough to make them burn just that much more.

My mind was reeling at the way being bound and gagged was letting me lose inhibitions. I was moaning and nearly squealing around the gag in anticipation. Feeling his jacket's zipper first, then his chest as he leaned in against my back, getting into position to whisper evil words in my ear.

"There, there. That's my girl." Feeling me up.  His hands leaving my ass to come sliding around the front. An almost tender touch of my clit, a fondle that made me itch desperately for release. "You want more, don't you? Nod if you do, love. Want more of me?"

Damn but I couldn't nod quickly enough. It was obscene. And hearing his amused chuckle in return might have been irritating, but it was also just on the edge of scary. It was all in the anticipation - the way I just didn't quite know what was coming next. I felt the bed shift and knew he'd risen from it. I moaned in frustration. It surprised me when I realized I was crying. Not a lot, just a few tears dampened the blindfold.

I heard his footsteps and knew he was leaving the room. I strained with all my might to hear what he might be up to, but it was no use. While he was gone, I tried to take stock but my mind was so jumbled up with edgy worry about whether or not I was truly up for whatever he had in mind that I couldn't seem to concentrate. I lost track of time but it seemed like he was gone forever.

When his hand touched my waist, I nearly jumped. He stroked me, murmuring about the need to pace myself. That just made me pant. Bastard, I thought, he's ... And that's when it hit me. He was giving me my fantasy. I'd forgotten all about it. It came rushing back over me, that I'd told him this once; I just hadn't realized he'd even remembered. Not considering the state we were in when I'd told him. I'd confided in him one night after we'd been drinking and screwing. A moment when I'd been so completely sated and at ease that I'd broken a cardinal rule. Be careful how you reveal yourself to someone with a good memory.

It might have been a fantasy, this 'tie me up and have your way with me' bit, but he was adding his own touches. I'd never once combined it with spanking. What else did the bastard have up his sleeve, I wondered.

His hand moved under me and he lifted me up; I felt a pillow being placed beneath me and from its size, knew it was one of the big floor pillows we kept in the living room. Oh, shit, I thought, I'll never be able to come up to this cabin with my family again. First the table and now the pillow. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face.

His fingers traced imaginary patterns along my bare back. They were so light on my skin that it was astounding the way they made the entire back buzz.

Up on that pillow, I felt totally exposed and very vulnerable and he was content to take advantage of that. When I felt his mouth sucking and nipping at my ass, I pulled at my bindings but they were too strong for me to get away. His mouth dipped down and sucked at my slit; I grunted into the gag and struggled.

"It's okay, love." Cooing to me but in a voice that held mystery. "You've been whining so much since we started that it made me thirsty for some wine. Want some?"

I hesitated. What was he up to?

"I said, do you want some?" he growled out to me.

Immediately, I nodded, thinking that's what he wanted. I felt him loosen the gag and his lips were on mine. In a shock, I realized he was pushing wine into my mouth from his and I started sucking from him. Chuckling at my eagerness, he did it twice more for me and I was probably imagining it, but it seemed like I was getting an almost instant buzz from the alcohol.

"Say 'bye-bye," he muttered as he put the gag back into place. I swallowed deep as he tightened it in place. Surprised that I was grateful to have it back because it helped me in a way I found intriguing. "There's something about seeing you like this. You realize that I could do anything I wanted to you?"

That husky voice, the control in it. A tremble raced through me as I nodded to him even as I broke out into an instant sweat.

"You know I won't hurt you, right?" Gave him another instant nod as his hand petted my head. "I'm wondering just how much you want to please me. I want you to want to please me, love. Is that what you want?"

Nodding. Then waiting as his hand played with my hair. I felt the bed give and knew he was now sitting near me. His hand left me. I heard a noise and then smelled smoke. Bastard was smoking a cigarette, I growled inside. He's got me on the edge, totally into this and now he's making me wait. Fucking smoking break? At a time like this?

I imagine he knew exactly what that did to me. I'm sure my body language was shouting out to him how much that was pissing me off. It didn't take that long and he was easing off the bed, casually asking me where an ashtray was and wandering out into another room to find one.

On the bed, I was shaking from overload. Emotions coursing through me and not in control. Sweating more now.

One of his hands was back to light fluttering caresses over my back. When the hand touched my still sore ass, I moaned at him, hoping he wasn't going to get back into the paddling routine. Instead, I felt something wet drip down along my spine and then his mouth was there, following the wet trail and lapping noisily.

"Good vintage," he said, by way of explanation.

His fingers stopped on my ass and pulled my cheeks apart, exposing everything. I stopped moving, stopped breathing for a second. When I felt him pour some of the wine there, so that it seeped along the crack and even into my anus, I started shaking again.

"Something wrong, Tina?" 

I nodded and then cried out into the gag when his tongue began lapping up the wine from my crevice. A choked on scream from me when I felt his tongue worry around that oh-so-sensitive opening, its virginal status still a source of awkwardness to me. Now really struggling because with the gag on, I couldn't tell him and I was so worried he'd just fuck me there without realizing.

When I started shaking my head hard from side to side, he stopped and leaned over me. I felt his fingers, gentle on me, wiping the hair from my face so he could see me. Knowing he didn't need to see my eyes to read my panic. He slid the gag down to my chin, asking, "What's wrong? Tell me. Want to stop?"

"No," I said, my voice a hoarse whisper. "But I haven't done that before and it ..."

"Scares you?" he finished for me, putting his hand very deliberately on my ass and rubbing me there. "Or do you think you'd like to try it?"

"I-I'm n-not sure," I said and he could hear the way I was on the verge of crying over this.

"Then we won't. Not yet anyway. And not like this," he said, his deep voice softly calming me. And then he popped the gag back in place.

I felt his fingers sweep the hair along my neck away and sighed into the gag when he kissed me there. Light, reassuring, tender, caressing. My juices were flowing again and I was almost wiggling my ass in the air at the way that felt so good. And then his mouth latched on to that spot in the curve, the one where my neck sloops down into my shoulder. Oh sweet Lord. It felt so good. It always did. He always got that spot so perfectly.

But then I felt his teeth. Barely gripping into me but it was the way he was suddenly sucking so hard that really got my attention. This deep, harsh growl from him and I let myself scream into the gag at the feeling of how quickly he'd turned back into the total dominant. As he crawled over my body, edging back down to where he'd been, he was planting hard, sucking kisses along my back and my sides. I was a quivering mass of flesh by the time he reached the end and he sat up. I could feel him looming there, behind me, in between my parted thighs but not touching me. I laid there, panting and wanting but not certain what I wanted, except that I was almost beyond caring what he did as long as he made me come soon.

"You know how tired I get of having to be a gentleman in bed?" he whispered to me, bringing my attention back to him immediately. "Just for once, I'd like to just fuck a woman and not have to worry about her 'needs.' Know what I mean? Just shove it in and have at it in a way that's only about me."

He nearly drove me off the pillow, thrusting into me with no announcement, no advance warning, no helping me get ready for him. Then again, he was no idiot. He knew I was so wet that I couldn't really get wetter. And even though it was a shock, my body responded instantly.

Hilting in me roughly, grinding his hips against me. Big grunt to tell me he'd loved doing that. "This is about me, Tina. Not you."

Then why the fuck was I coming so quickly? He was ordering me not to come and I was coming anyway, no matter how pissed off he sounded when I wouldn't ... couldn't cooperate. I was screaming into the gag, crying into the blindfold ... in short, reveling in the freedom of losing control with him.

After I came that first time, he played with me. He waited until the orgasm was slowing and then he started thrusting in hard and fast. As soon as he'd feel me about to come, he'd tell me to stop even while he'd very deliberately grind himself against me in a way certain to hit my g-spot.

Each time he drove into me, I felt the flapping of that leather jacket against my still-sensitive ass and then it would graze around my hips before he'd draw back away from me. It was this oddly erotic feeling. As he got himself wound up enough to start to come, his hands reached around to hold my breasts and the feel of leathered palms and bare fingertips set me coming again.

Screaming with total abandon, the gag choking off the scream into some weird keening sound, I was convulsing around his cock and feeling the final orgasm rock through my body. And then he was finally coming in me, his arms gripping around my waist so hard, like I was an anchor for him to keep him in the here and now. He was cursing, his voice so loud and sounding shocked that it felt so good to him to be coming like that. I'd never heard him do that before.

He put his forehead on my back as he slowed his thrusting. Lightly kissing my skin, he was murmuring against me, talking to himself in nonsense.

When he stopped moving, I was so spent that doing anything beyond breathing would have been impossible. I concentrated for a while on breathing, just so I'd remember I was still there. He released my gag and I felt him shift so he was next to me. His lips were soft on my mouth and he was whispering into me, so low I couldn't understand him.

And he had my wrists unbound moments later, kissing along the tender undersides and then whispering soothing sounds at me. All I could really do was breathe. In. Out. In. Out. I wasn't sure I would ever need to do anything else.

When the blindfold came off, I kept my eyes shut. His hands cupped my face as he kissed me again. Soft. Warm. His thumbs dried my tears. "Come back to me, Tina. Was that too much for you?"

My lids slid open to find his worried face. I put a hand on his cheek and smoothed over his face. "You remembered, didn't you?" He nodded at me. "Did it scare you that you liked doing that?"

"Yeah, it did." Looking surprised that I had asked him that. And then watching me carefully, taking in my weary grin in his direction. "Damn, baby, but you came hard."

Making me blush. "Yeah, well, you did, too."

His face was so somber that it made me focus on him. "What is it, Josh?"

Shaking his head, closing his eyes, leaning in to kiss me gently on the cheek. He rested his cheek just where he'd kissed me. His hand fondled my hair. "Are you okay? Please tell me," he asked me.

"I'm okay. Really," I whispered to him. "I can't explain it. I've never done that before. It was ... so intense. I'm just surprised we'd trust each other that way at this point in the relationship."

"Why would you trust me so easily?"

"For the same reason you trusted me, I guess."

He leaned back and put his head on the bed next to mine. His fingers drifted over my jaw and up around my lips. "I'm not sure I knew I had that in me."

"Did you mean most of it? Or was it mostly ..."

"No, baby, I didn't mean most of that. That was just ... I was mostly trying to be that bad boy you seem so afraid of sometimes. Did I push too far? You told me ... I thought I remembered that you wanted ... that you wanted it to be about being taken, about giving up control to someone else. But that you wanted to feel, deep down, like you weren't in real danger."

Nodding my head slowly at him, but then asking him softly, "That bit about you sometimes wanting sex to just be about you getting it off and not having to worry about me? That sounded pretty convincing, Josh."

He slipped an arm around my back and whispered in my ear, "Yeah, sometimes I think that's what I want. But, y'know, when it comes right down to it? It's too much of a fucking turn on to see how well I can make you come. In fact, I have to say that I love the way I can make you come."

"Yeah? Funny thing is, I love it, too," I whispered, a tired giggle coming out. Then I sighed, saying, "I like that you did this for me. I like that you remembered the essence of my fantasy and you understood what it was I really wanted. There was something about the way you pushed me right to my limit that makes me feel like I can be so ... that it will be okay to reveal myself to you."

He graced me with this soft smile. His voice was already drifting back to the cocky timber I most associated with him. "I have some fantasies of my own, baby. Want to hear one you can help me with?"

"Ah, you men. All alike. Always about you," I sassed him. But then I leaned toward him, kissing him lightly and whispering, "I want you to tell me. I want you to feel that comfortable with me, Josh."

I had just enough strength to rise from the bed and toss the big pillow on the floor. Once it was gone, I snuggled in against his body. His arms gathered me in to him and I slid my arms up under his jacket so I could feel his bare back. My face was against his chest and I felt like I was enveloped in leather. It made me giggle again and he held me while I gave in to the bubble of laughter welling in me.

"I cannot believe the way I feel about leather now," I wheezed out to him.

"I'm gonna have to be real careful wearing leather around you from now on. I'm not positive I like the affect it has on you. It's like you're fucking the coat instead of me." He pulled away from me, sat up and peeled off the jacket and his shirt. Glaring down at me, saying in his mock pissed-off voice, "Think you can be satisfied with just my skin now?"

Gazing appreciatively at the skin in question, I nodded eagerly and opened my arms to him. But as he settled back in and gathered me to him, I realized the little devil had left on his riding gloves. And, I also know, he very purposefully caressed my back and arms with those hands, knowing the mix of leather and his warm fingers tantalized me.

It must be why I had that dream when I fell asleep next to him. Either that, or it was what he whispered in my ear as we drifted toward sleep. A fantasy he had. One that didn't surprise me, truth be told.

My dream was more a feeling than any real details.

We were on his motorcycle. The sun was shining. And I wasn't the least bit scared. I was free.