icarusalsoflew | 003. and in every raindrop... // open post.

[ One day, he is going to look back to this exchange between the two of you and marvel at how perfectly beautiful it was, seeing you completely submit yourself to him for the first time.

He nips at the crook of your shoulder, briefly pressing his nose against your skin in order to breathe you in once again before bending, fetching the spreader bar that has obediently positioned itself right where he needs it. You'll feel and hear, in the silence that follows, the way he takes hold of your ankles, slides the leather around them, pulls in tight, and buckles them both down. The bar is wide enough, it seems, to keep your legs spread a good distance apart without difficulty, effectively leaving you exposed.

The next sensation that follows is silk over your eyes, and your boy tying the knot firmly behind your head. Then there are fingers tracing your lips, and his voice back in your ear. ]

Open your mouth for me.

[ Here is the moment he hesitates.

Forgive him, the gag is the most intimidating item in this set. Yes, you have both played around with blindfolds, but this will rob him of speech and the idea is a little difficult for him to wrap his head around. Yes, you gave him a little preview of what it would feel like, but thinking about it is a whole other animal from the actual thing.

But he trusts you. He wants to do this for you. So you'll see the way he swallows, feel the tremor that goes through him before he parts his lips for you.

He trusts you. This can't be so bad if you're fine with it. And you have never once done him wrong. ]

[ And this is what he does in response: he turns your face towards him and brings your lips together. He kisses you like he wants to taste every part and inch of your mouth, like he owns you but owning you isn't enough to satisfy him. He draws this out, sparring with your tongue, letting you enjoy this as much as he is enjoying you.

When the moment is done, while you are still breathless from the way he's ravished and bruised your mouth with his affections, he's slipping the ball gag into place, pushing it back just far enough to force your lips apart into a circumference that is a little wider than what it would have been if you had placed your mouth on him, and securing it tightly behind your head, just like how he had done with the blindfold over your eyes.

He is quiet as he busies his hands with moving over your body. One of them wraps around your neck and curls its fingers under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up to where you'll hear him breathing, and maybe feel the ghost-like graze of his hair close to your face. The other hand skims down your body, over your sweat-drenched and oil-slicked muscles, and draws tight over your belly and around your waist, so that he might massage your left thigh. ]

Try to imagine that the gag I've fitted you with are my fingers in your mouth, or perhaps my cock between your lips. It might help.

[ It is a small sacrifice, really, gagging you. Nevertheless, while he won't get to kiss you nearly as much, now he will get to study how it changes the way you sound for him.

Ah, yes: ]

You'll need to ask permission again too, if you want to cum. All you have to do is nod when I ask you.

[ He knows all the signs that point towards you teetering close to the edge, beyond how you start to sound when the high begins to wash over your body. It's time to take advantage of that. ]

[ It's the change in his breathing that'll catch your attention first, alongside the shiver that goes through him as he listens to you speak. There's some discomfort at the gag, but it's mostly the newness of it all, and the idea that his mouth will be like this for as long as you deem it necessary. Breathing is not as difficult as he thought it would be, and when you suggest he think of it as if he had his mouth on your cock, it does make this marginally easier.

The blindfold has robbed him of any other distractions, anything else that he might turn to when things between you both get more intense. Right now, your voice feels like a force unto itself and his skin seems to come alive where you're touching him.

As furrowed as his brow looks, there's the hum of expectation in his bones. The cuffs at his ankles restrict his movement, and in strange way they calm him in the same way that the restraints on his arms do.

This isn't... as frightening as he thought it would be. In fact, the picking up of his heartbeat is directly proportional to his awareness over how this is turning him on. ]

[ That is exactly the kind of reaction that your boy was hoping for, even though he had already been right about certain that he would get it. He has, after all, firsthand experience in the matter.

He keeps the hand that he has on your neck in place, but starts moving the other up and away from your leg. He lets his palm rub lazy circles over your belly, matching how he has started nibbling/licking your ear, and then - as he lets his mouth start placing a new line of kisses/bite marks down your neck - he's lightly scratching his nails around your nipples before worrying at both of them.

Yes, he takes his time with all of that. He wants to see how it'll effect you, especially since this is your first time being bound, and you must still be incredibly sensitive from the oil. ]

[ He never knew that foreplay could tear you to shreds, that it could drive you so much to distraction that you would want to beg for release.

It's not so bad in the beginning. You'll even see it in the way that his head tilts to one side, therefore giving you so much more access to his neck, because the way you're kissing him is delicious, and the low sounds that leave him affirm that. If the gag were not in place, he might he worrying at his lip now, but you are right about the way that ball fits inside of his mouth. He lets his thoughts roam as you touch him, the image of you on your back as he sucks you off coming easily.

It's an interesting play in contrasts. Maybe he'll get to tell you that at some point, that he was filing things away at first. In so many ways, you have been a teacher to him, and as immersive as your lovemaking can be, it has also always been instructional.

But the oil makes his skin heat up, and after awhile what you are doing to his body takes more and more of his attention and he remembers that you are doing this to him, that he is tied up and cannot move at his leisure.

He's trying not to lean forward, because the urge to rub himself into the sheets is strong. But he's struggling with himself and with the things you are making him feel since he is standing erect now, hard and quivering and leaking, even if you have not yet touched him there.

You told him he had to ask for permission. It seemed easy at first but when his mind and body are so full of static, it's a little difficult to focus long enough on getting his request across.

The sounds around the ball gag are more urgent now, often cut short as he sucks air in around it. The muscles in his arms and legs have gone taut again and you can see how the bindings dig into his skin. ]

[ You'll feel, then, the appreciative hum in your boy's throat right up against your neck, and how it tapers out into a reverent sigh. ]

This is how you look right now.

[ He tilts your face upward so that he can murmur that into your ear. Then he's letting a thought brush over your brain, much like the fingers he had been ghosting over your body: a psychic projection of the very scene that you can't see. You trussed up, looking thoroughly strung out and overwhelmed with lust against his body. Him, holding fast to your neck, violet eyes at half-mast, smiling that crooked smile that you probably were in love with before you even realized it.

He keeps the image up, so that you can watch the way you react to slight flex of the fingers he has under your chin/around your throat, the open-mouthed kisses he has started to place along your neck and shoulder, and the slow crawl of his hand down to your dick. At least he's wrapping his free hand lovingly around you. He could have easily decided to tease you more.

No, he won't start getting you off just yet. This needs to be taken step by step, especially since he's pretty much given you the telepathic equivalent of a mirror. ]

[ You'll see ( and so will he, because while you can turn away from mirrors, telepathic projections go straight into your mind ) the way his lips tighten over the ball-gag in time to the sharp intake of breath that is just not anywhere near enough.

There's a sound of relief when you curl your fingers around him, followed by the way his Adam's apple shifts as he swallows in an effort to wet his seemingly bone-dry throat. That relief is short-lived though, because the heat of your palm folded around him is reminding his skin that the oil has seeped through and he's resisting the urge to rock against you because he knows any more friction will make things so much worse.

He looks terribly young tonight, trussed up like this. It's surreal on his part, but perhaps its because the image he's seeing has an edge of the unreal to it. You look exactly like the god you are named for in the Lightless Lands ( was it the reverse though? that Izanami was borne into existence because of you? he forgets... ) and there he is: bound and captive in your loving embrace. ]

[ And he holds fast, because he can clearly trace the way that conflict - to struggle, to stay still - is threading up on in your muscles, making you practically quiver with the sensory overload that you're getting in his arms. He'll work at at marking you, then, along your shoulder, from crook to just before the point where your arm begins.

While he is busy with that, he presses his arm down over your waist and hips and pulls you in closer towards his body in a way that lets your fingers grasp at how hard he is starting to become between the small of your back and his stomach. Then he's taking you higher with full, hard strokes. You're so beautifully hot and fit remarkably well into his palm, and he'd like you to see that for yourself. As such, he's keeping the projection up a little longer, just to show you, firsthand, the steps that you go through on the way to a breakdown. ]

Remember to ask.

[ That is voiced low and and dark with his desire over the bruises that he is leaving on your skin. ]

[ There is a low and hitched sound as his head bows from the weight of his desire, from the need to curl up because the ache in his cock has spread outward to the rest of him.

Try as he might, he can't turn away form that projected image into his mind and he mutely notes the little things: how his toes have curled into the sheets, how his knees attempt to fold his legs in. When you take him higher, harder, he breathes a gasp against that gag and turns his face up, leaning back helplessly into the solidness of your body.

There's a hum in his throat and chest now, and it trembles between his lips like a plea. Please, love. He doesn't know how to ask. He remembers, he really does. But how else can he tell you if he can't speak except in the way every inch of him tenses, or the way he is attempting to shift backwards and further into your embrace because he wants you so damned much.

Those are his fingers curling against you now, the gesture almost feeble as he feels the heat hum beneath his skin. You're so hard and he remembers all-too well how snug you were inside of him -- it's more than enough to drive him nuts.

Please, Hikaru. He doesn't know how much longer he can hold out, or what other way he can tell you that he is asking for your permission. ]

[ His approval for the way that you try to pleasure him right back even when you're so lost in the moment rumbles deep in his chest, and almost purrs past his lips as he continues to partake of your skin like it's something he can taste and devour at his leisure. You'll be able to see him watching you, though, with eyes as hungry as the hand holding your neck tight, the other hand working you towards release, and the teeth/tongue/lips branding your body.

Yes: he knows what you need. ]

Come for me.

[ His voice and short and rough with all of the lust he's tempering within himself. It's not time for him to fuck you yet. There are still other things that he'd like to subject you to. The first thing being the maintenance of that lovely projection right into your mind. You might as well bear witness to everything, utterly exposed as you are. ]

[ The breath that sneaks past the gag will tell you just how much effort he has been putting into being good, into doing as you ask, and following your instructions to the letter. His body bows forward when he spills into your hand, onto those sheets, and it's accompanied by a sound unlike anything you've ever felt from him before: raw and helpless, a clear enough indicator of how you're breaking him down so well.

Watching all this go down and being unable to look away has become as much a part of the high as the experience itself. Seeing you so... the only word that comes to mind is 'savage' -- in your lust for him is world-shaking. ]

[ His grip loosens when you finally start to break, but he never ceases his movements, stroking you in a far gentler, more encouraging fashion all the way until you're spend. Of course he does not care that his skin is sticky and glistening with your cum. If earlier this evening wasn't any indicator, your previous liaisons should have made it how much he loves tasting you (and showing you how much he enjoys it) obvious.

He cuts the link at that moment, withdrawing from your mind with another caress over your brain. Now you're going to be left to sag against his body and listen to the collection of small sounds he makes: the rustle of the bedsheets beneath you both, his breathing and how it is low and heavy out of real need for you, him licking his hand clean --

-- up to a point, anyway. A few heartbeats after that, you're going to feel his fingers drag over your outstretched lips, pushing just past the edges of the ball gag in order to let you taste a bit of yourself on his skin. Once his fingers have withdrawn though: ]

Do you want me to fuck you now?

Edited 2015-03-05 05:14 (UTC)

[ It feels good to lean back against your warmth, even as the aftershocks go through him, humming deep under his skin as your hand guides him to the very end of his release. He can't see again; it makes the room feel so much larger than he remembers it being last, and the sounds more pronounced in his ears.

It's hard to breathe still, though his mouth has relaxed around that gag, having gotten used to it's presence. When you move your finger over his lips he can't help but try to open his mouth further, his tongue pressed against the curve of the ball as he sucks in air in an attempt to taste what you offer. If there's something akin to a whimper, it registers only distantly, because the scent of sweat, of sex, of himself and of you is something he takes in with each inhale.

He feels too weak to nod back, so he slumps against you and turns his cheek into your chest. That is a 'please, yes, whatever you want' if ever there was one. ]

[ He finds that response so endearing that it's enough to make him move his hand away from your neck, albeit briefly, to hold your head against his heart and kiss your forehead, the top of your hair.

After that, his hands are moving down, arms wrapping around your torso in order to effortlessly lift you up and unto his lap. You're going to feel not just the heat of his crotch now pressed close to your ass, but the way his legs shift let you straddle him a little better while you're leaning back against him, as if he's making it a point to envelop you with as much of his presence as possible.

There is about a minute or so of silence from your lover's end (although it probably feels longer to you), punctuated only by the sound of that familiar bottle getting undone, and the sensation of a bit more oil going on this one's hands and on between your legs, over your length and balls, dripping down further close to your ass until it stains the sheets. It will feel cold again, but only for a moment: once it has seeped through, it'll just heat you up even more. ]

Relax and let me in.

[ He doesn't wait too long for you to steady yourself before he's pressing two fingers back into your ass. In any other circumstance, this might hurt, or at least feel very uncomfortable. Given the state that you're in, though, and the fact that he's lubed you up yet again... ]

[ His head bows again as you press into him; as his body welcomes your fingers with more ease than the first time around. You see, there's fire under his skin and deep inside where you're touching him -- there's no resistance this time around.

It doesn't help that you're so terribly close where he needs you and so painfully far away.

He's tightening his mouth around the gag now, swallowing the urge to sob into the air. You'll see it in the way his shoulders shake, in the flex of muscles along the planes of his back and the line of his arms. ]

[ He notices your efforts, of course, and they don't fail to amuse him. ]

You shouldn't hold back, you know. You're pretty wound up as it is.

[ Which would be his fault, but he isn't about to make it any easier on you. In fact, he's flexing his fingers against our inner walls, and doesn't leave you much time to re-acclimatize to how it must feel to be fucked by somebody else before he's inserting a third finger into you. Then he keeps them as they are, so that he might feel the way that you tremble around him. ]

I want to see if I can make you cum again just with my hand.

[ You're welcome to try and protest. He might just take your feelings into consideration. ]

[ That you put a third finger in earns you a cry from this one's lips and him curling in on himself as much as he can with those restraints still in place. You're treading that fine line between pleasure and pain, but the certainty in your voice is a surprising anchor. It probably shouldn't be though, since you taking him out of his comfort zone and dropping him right in the middle of something that's overwhelmingly new prompts him to cling to the belief that he can trust you with his body no matter what.

Perhaps it's the oil, because the heat inside his skin seems to make everything blur, bound and blindfolded as he is. The way you stretch him out feels like that awful, beautiful kind of good that he hadn't thought was possible at all. ]

[ And he watches all of this quietly, content with feeling through the way that you writhe against him/around him, listening to the shades of pleasure/discomfort/almost-pain in your voice, noting the small shifts and signatures within your scent now that he's pushed you even further than he did earlier.

His free hand is wrapping around your torso again, and massaging your stomach. ]

I've got you.

[ In fact, he pushes a little further into you nice, slow, deep and easy all the way until his knuckles, and withdraws at exactly the same pace. There's no need to rush something like this, at least not until you're cresting towards another high beneath his hands. ]

[ You'll feel then, how tight the muscles in his stomach are, how his belly is caving in response to how you're stretching him out. The fingers of both his hands are fists now, the knuckles on either possibly going white from the strain.

The ache between his legs makes him shudder, he can feel the way he swells and what he can only distantly register as the trickle of precum; a sign of how worked up you've gotten him in so short a span of time.

Have an exhaled sob behind that gag now, because he had barely recovered from the first round when you proceeded to bind him up and now that he's robbed of sight, of speech, and have your fingers deep inside of him, it's become so much harder to breathe. ]

[ Here: let him kiss the quivering skin of your neck, ear and face as he shifts his free hand over your cock. He'll work you up the same way that he's pushing his fingers in and out of you, and also shifting his hips to help you move with him. ]

You're so goddamned beautiful, love, I really can't help myself. I'm going to fuck you senseless.

[ He will keep you close and keep at all of this until you start to come to pieces between his hands all over again, because he doesn't need to put himself into you to get a high out of how you are with him right now.

That is not to say that it isn't going to happen, of course. He knows how much you like it when he rides you. He plans on turning things around in that direction very soon. ]

[ Your voice and your words are like the promise of light in the dark ocean of desire that is taking him under. The feel of your hand on him, the press of your fingers in him, and the way you've decided to move with him sends a shudder of pleasure that both gives and takes.

Those fists his hands were are now lax, his fingers pressing into what he can get of your skin as she sobs quiver past ever pore of his being. He's no longer resisting and he can feel, in that moment, how you sweep him along like a wave, dragging him under. While this is similar to the first time you took him, you'll feel the difference in the way he's giving over even more, so that each lance of pleasure cuts as much as it soothes, burns hot and long and glorious.

It won't be long now, love. You've brought him down and pushed him higher towards utter surrender that he's ripe and yours for the picking. ]

[ He drags it out, then, all the way until you're just a few steps from tumbling. Then he's kissing your neck as he's pulling his fingers out, and shifting his hands unto your hips. You'll feel the way he guides you right down to his cock, which is hard and erect and aching to bury itself inside of you.

From a little below, as you're sinking down unto your boy, you're going to feel the way he shudders, and hear how he lets out a deep, satisfied sound that's somewhere between a moan of pleasure and a laugh of relief.

That would be your fault. He wasn't mincing words when he called you goddamned beautiful.

He pushes into you slowly, just like how he had been fucking you moments earlier with his fingers, and a new tremor wracks his body once he's hit your prostrate yet again with the tip of his dick.

All it takes is a heartbeat and an ironclad resolve to bring enough of himself together to see this through in order for your boy to focus, and start to fuck you, dictating the pace for you both with the buck of his hips and the grip of his hands. ]

[ It's like there's a switch in his head that clicks, because just when he thinks that he's going to fall, that he's slipping off that edge again and this time you're nowhere to be found, you make good on your promise and catch him. You're filling him up and pushing deep, so much that he's gasping as you bury yourself in his skin to touch that part of him that sends a new crest of pleasure through his bloodstream.

Inhibited as he is by the cuffs and the bindings, he's moving against you, meeting you thrust for thrust as best as he can, all shuddering limbs and sweat-drenched skin. Lead and he will follow, because how could he do otherwise? He loves you with every inch of himself and perhaps it's selfish, how he never wants to let you go, and how never wants to be left behind.

His head is bowed as he presses down against you, letting himself close around you as if you draw you further and further in. Your name is an echo in his mind, his teeth so tight around that gag his jaw is a tense line even as his hips buck with a lack of care for finesse. ]

[ You're giving back as much as you possibly can, and you're letting him take you the way that he wants to. Those revelations, in themselves, are thrilling and humbling all in the same breath, so much so that they send a wave of pleasure through this one so forcefully that it nearly threatens to undo him.

He takes this as a cue, then, to thrust into you with a little more force and pry off a bit of the grip he has on his own desperate need to control himself and rein his darkest instincts in just to make sure that he doesn't shatter you completely. This is an assurance that you likely won't, and even if you did, you'll let him piece you back together and still be there for him, no matter what.

The raggedness of his own breath and the desperation of the sounds he's making mirror your own from where you can hear/feel them over your skin as he fucks you harder, burying himself right up to his balls within you/hitting the deepest part of yourself where you'll get the most pleasure from him with each stroke each and every time.

Midway through all of that, in the sex-stained moments of the two of you coming together, you'll hear him gasp, feel him go still, and then feel the way he buries his face into your shoulder and whines as his body gives in, filling you yet again so perfectly with his cum. He's shifted one of his arms to anchor you in place by your chest against his body at this point, because he wants nothing more but to crawl inside and sink skin-first into your bloodstream so that you will never be able to get rid of him.

He loves you. He loves you so much that once upon a time, it made him sorry. ]

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