Ciana Rose's Erotic Stories



Ciana Rose

© 2004

All Rights Reserved



I hear his return and my heart races.

In lace stockings and high heels, I face the wall, arms raised and hands tied to a hook. He has left me in this way for some time and I have grown needy of pampering.

As he enters the room, solace comes with him. I shed the void of his absence with relief.

He stands at a distance, out of my view, but his gaze is upon me--watching, claiming--I can feel it. It excites me and stokes my craving for his closeness. But I know better than to expect; he will come to me at his accord, not mine.

He waits quietly, intentionally, forcing my body to writhe and beg for his attention. My movements are limited, and as desire continues to consume me, I can only express my yearning with swaying hips.

Deeming the gesture worthy, he takes a step closer. I burn with the anticipation of his touch but he is not lenient and comes no farther. An ache fills me and I moan with a small whimper. I must feel him. My back arches and my breasts crush against the wall. With labored breath, I push my ass out to him--as a plea, as a lure. And he moves closer, where I can feel his heat.

I inhale--drawing him, absorbing him with my senses. At last, a small step and my tender cheeks brush against his trousers. I become breathless, eager for more.

Gently, he trails the back of is hand down my spine. As male knuckles slide lower, my needs grow intolerable. I push out more prominently and wait for the arrival. He deliberately slows his hand to torment me while I remain motionless, in suspense.

An eternity passes before he reaches my pussy and grants me a single finger. Ohhh, I am so ready... My moans arise and I move on his precious hand languidly.

His sound of approval tells me so--my wetness pleases him. It is a definitive of his power over me. He allows me a moment of indulgence, then strips me of it.

I protest the emptiness with bleak moans, but he presses masculine body against my back and quiets me with that. A different sort of satisfaction fills my core.

With the lavish kiss on my shoulder, my head rolls back and my eyes drift shut. I have entered the gates of ecstasy and my world is spinning. Circling me with his arms, he traps my wriggling body against the solid mass that is his. There is a roughness to his shirt, but it is his and I cherish the sensation.

I gasp with pleasure and move to urge when he begins to harden against my quivering buttocks. Take me, fill me, begs of him my entire being. Yet, he continues to deny, all the while caressing, groping, seducing my nerves with his touch. I am no match against his demands and raw hunger brings tears to my eyes.

With my eminent defeat, I grow limp. He reaches up and releases my hands. When my drained body begins to collapse, he quickly collects me in his arms. I cling to him, whimpering, as he carries me to bed--his bed. And now there, in heaven, he will complete his possession of me.

I am delirious; passion is pounding in my heart.





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