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�That little bit of leather�
by Michael O�Marah
You said you
loved me
as you reached
for that bit of leather.
I knew this was
another game,
I wondered
whether I would
enjoy it,
or [if] it would be
like the last.
I watched
as you wrapped
the string of leather
around my cock,
behind my balls
again and again.
I tried to pull it off,
my cock would explode
with the pressure
of my blood
but you grabbed
my hands,
pulled the handcuffs
from under the pillow.
Still I tried
to loosen
that leather
with my thighs
but you grabbed
my feet and tethered them.
I�d just bought
those bed posts.
I wasn�t liking this game.
I begged for you to stop,
loosen the choke hold you had
on my cock,
you laughed,
took out the rest
of your toys.
My eyes widened
in fear
as the clamps came near
to my chest,
I begged you to stop.
You didn�t.
The pain,
you pinched and pulled
upon my nipples,
hard enough for me
to forget the pain
between my legs
and enjoy them both.
You weren�t near done,
were you,
as you took that monster
into both hands.
Nothing that large
could be called a dildo.
You pushed into me,
stretching when I�d been
stretched too far.
You pounded into me,
that thing was tearing me
apart
and we enjoyed it.
You straddled me,
opened yourself up
and swallowed.
I moaned for a moment in pleasure.
you grasped those clamps,
pulled and pulled,
bounced,
I thought to explode
from the pain, pleasure, pain
until I did
and filled you
and you rode the storm.
It lasted forever
until you took away
the clamps,
left me empty
without the dildo.
You looked into my eyes
for the first time
as you unwound
that bit of leather.
You freed my hands,
went in for a shower
never saying a word.
I knew this wasn�t
the last game we�d play
as I fondled
that little bit of leather,
flushing the toilet.
Candle light can be
so romantic.
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That little bit of leather is copyright 1999 by Michael O�Marah