Today was hard.
This evening I needed to go harder.
I needed to be out of my head. Away from the noise. Simplicity.
He takes me into the garden as day gives way to twilight. Over the wall, there is gentle babble of people enjoying a warm evening. Walking dogs. Playing football. The opening layer of bondage. Any words, any sounds, would carry the short few steps to the footpath, over the fence and fruit trees to the neighboring garden. I am bound into silence.
He strips me and leads me to kneel, air soft on naked skin, decking hard beneath my knees. I hear the rope swishing through his hands before he touches me. He makes me wait. Anticipate.
The bite and hold of rope. The pull of muscles held still. Rough fingers trailing proprietorially over portions left exposed. Each sensation layered upon the one before. Knots hanks of rope into bindings that say I am cared for. I am his.
Time has fallen silent. In my head. Between us.
Just the swish of the rope. The catch in my breath as he fucks into me. The stutter of his as he comes.