Shin Splints

"Room Service," a chipper, almost too cheerful voice calls, muted by the door, interrupting us.

I pull myself from the bed of our hotel room, quickly surveying my handiwork as I pull a robe around me to get the door.

You had finally allowed me to convince you into trying both temperature play and sensory deprivation and lay, cuffed to each corner of the king-sized bed. With the physio recommending you try ice to help soothe the shin-splints in your legs, I couldn't think of a better time to try either.

I cross the threshold, snap my prize from a seemingly unfazed attendant, not missing the smirk you give me as I return, watching me from where you're restrained to the bed.

"They wouldn't send up the ice without the wine," I explain, placing the prosecco into the mini bar, feeling as though I had to explain why two non drinkers had ordered one of the hotel’s speciality beverages.

I lean over, kissing you, slipping kiss you, slipping the soft silk of the blindfold over your face, tying it behind your head with practiced ease.

You tense, anticipation swelling in your chest as you wait for something, anything, to break through the sensory deprivation.

I fish a single ice cube out, popping it into my mouth and rolling it around with my tongue, melting it slightly before kissing you.

You moan at the sudden blend of sensations; the warmth of my mouth, the cold of the ice, the surprise of the complexity, something you hadn't expected. I swipe my tongue across yours one more time before pulling away, leaving the ice cube to melt on your tongue.

I pull away before setting between your spread legs, ice bucket beside me as I take a handful of ice and slowly, almost tauntingly run it the length of your left shin. I rub in small, slow circles, admiring the goosebumps pimpling along your flesh, the softness in your breath.

My thumbs follow, working and kneading at the muscles, trying to relax and loosen them so you have at least a small relief from the shin splints.

I switch sides, repeating the same process, starting at the top of your shin all the way down you leg to the bottom of your feet.

I glance at your hamstrings, you'd complained of them being tight earlier but I am confident we'd stretched them enough since, if they bother you after this I will work my hands across them during aftercare.

This time my mouth, hands and ice find your neck; you moan as I slide down your chest, icicles trailing behind.

You're pulling against the restraints, wrists and ankles flexing in the cuffs, your head trying to follow my movements even though you can't see them.

I look up from where my lips are, mere centimetres above your dick as you let out a particularly guttural moan. My hand stretches to slip off one cuff, then the other before returning to tease the skin on the inside of your thigh.

It is you that pulls the blind fold off, your now freed hands grabbing me and pulling me up to you, kissing me ferociously.

I lean behind, unhooking your left, then your right ankle from the remaining cuffs, you waste no time in flipping us so that I am beneath you, hands pinned above my head in your left wrist, your right stabilising you above me.

Droplets of icy water drip from your body to mine as you hold me there, studying me silently for a moment. I hold your eye contact, remaining perfectly still, eyes widening as you reach for the ice, slipping one between your lips before licking at my clit.

I moan, writhing against you as you hold me in place, my fingers claw at your hair and back as you tongue my gspot.

I cum for you with a cry, bucking against you, squirt spraying your face.

You raise your head away from me, lips moist with my cum, eyes dark with arousal, and enter me without warning in one smooth thrust.

I almost see stars at the friction, the delicious sensation of fullness but get myself back into it, raising my hips in time with yours, pulling you deeper and deeper into my tight, dripping pussy.

My legs wrap first around your waist, adjusting my position, then over your shoulders, encouraging you and you press your forehead to my neck, moaning as you slam my gspot, knowing you've bottomed out.

Both hands grip into my skin as you begin thrusting into me with hard, fast, deep strokes. The sounds of your balls slapping my ass punctuating every stroke. Any pretence of softness is gone, you’re fucking me hard the way we both enjoy. You slam me onto you cock with every thrust, trying to cram every last millimeter of you into me.

You run your hand up my neck, through my hair, groping and pulling my head to the side, I arch into you as my dick continues to slam into my tight, dripping pussy.

You must be close now because your breath is rough, coming in short, moaning rasps as you speed up against me. You groan at the tightness of me, the pressure building in your balls before finally, you come, grunting and twitching.