The Artisan Tryst

Wow,  what do you think the Artisan has in store for  their lover on Valentine's day?  This is going to be one, hot, romantic interlude! 
Before you jump in to read the conclusion,  click on the page tab up there.  The one on the right - yes, right there.  The page tab for our Valentine's Giveaway!!  Leave a comment stating your favorite Valentine's tale with your email to register then click back over here and maybe have some ice water handy.  Happy Valentine's Day! 

Passion of the Artisan Confectioner (Pt 1)
Of Crystal Glasses and Rich Red Velvet (Pt 2)
Special Deliver:  The Artisan collection  (Pt 3)
The Artisan Visits (Pt 4)
The Artisan Returns (Pt 5)

 

The Artisan Tryst

by

Ben Hannigan

I can feel her breath on mine, feel her warmth as she slumbers next to me. My client, my lover, lies waiting for the day to break in my arms. She is soft, delicate and beautiful. I am the artisan. I flew to meet two people I have known for three long years. And yet, some would say I do not know them at all. All I know is their typing, their use of language and the occasional voice from a video clip.

 

I decided to fly over and turned it into a game, we enjoy games this little trio, our sex life a web of games and playing. Different clothes, different characters, and different places: from schoolyard to the bathroom of a museum. All these places, ages, and times, but all us.

 

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind.  Ever since the start we knew, we knew we were playing with fire.  My darling, the woman asleep in my arms, didn’t know it was me till I let slip in a letter her pet name, the one that I only use in the throes of orgasm. Since then we have been playing a game, both too caught up in this flame to stop.

 

Since the ninth we have been wearing each other out, but also exploring each other in ways that slide outside of the sexual. Watching films together, moving together across the kitchen, gliding around each other like we had done this forever,  each and every thing we did as a couple was punctuated with playful kisses, caresses, and gropes.

 

Then almost all too soon it was the fourteenth. We had a lazy morning tidying and organising the house. A light breakfast in continental style, cooking together our lunch of a simple Waldorf salad and we were ready; ready to begin preparing everything for the night of debauchery ahead.

 

The food prep done and laid out so the cooking could be done in a relaxed rhythm so that the details didn’t distract from the evening.  The wine opened at four thirty to allow it time to breath, I began to dress her slowly, reapplying the creams and serums that would keep her body howling and on edge throughout the evening. The white silk engulfing her thighs, the material warm, sucking her in. The garter pulled tight enough to pinch lightly, tingling. The ribbons trailing as I looped them into the clitoral clamps. The silk teddy slipped on and fastened at the back as I slid her aching nipples into the clamps before running the ribbons down into the clamps and I pulled the ribbons tight, far tighter than my squiggle of cream ever dared. To finish the ensemble, I reached around and pulling her hair up and out of the way.  I attached the purple and black choker that was my gift to her around her gentle throat. The pressure arousing and comforting her as her heart beat faster. My breath on her neck teasing, I then ushered her to her feet. Each movement both agony and ecstasy. Each step she takes, yanks hard on her clit. Each step she takes pulls across her nipples, each step she takes tightens the collar just for a second and I watch her eyes cross in this strange mix of pain and arousal. All the while those creams working hard at driving her to fever pitch

 

As I watched her practicing moving without dropping to the floor in shock at the stimulation, I coughed lightly. It is time to prepare me. We walked together into the room prepared, fortunately we had laid the bed and done all the heavy work before the robing because I couldn’t waste the time, enjoyable though it would have been in retrieving the gibbering puddle of bliss and reforming her into my lover.

 

The silk black sheets luxurious on my skin as I lay down. I was made comfortable, the velvet covered pillow slid under my head, a wonderful contrast. The silk was cool, comforting, sliding across my buttocks and back. It was like water, but the water on the very top of a glass - that delicate semi-skin that is pierced with a touch - this is what was gently engulfing my body beneath me. The pillow, the rich decadent velvet had leached every strip of warmth from the area around it. The feeling on my neck was fire, and yet it was a tame fire that wore it's heat like fur, pulsing with my heartbeat the warm softness of a fresh towel or that soft skin of a kitten unencumbered by the weight of the world.

 

As my mind drifted into whimsy the first of many silken snakes slid across my body, binding though not tightly my breasts. This warmth, this strip of heaven gliding across my skin slowly moving towards its target. The first thing I registered was the feel of this soft slick warmth across my cheek as I was gagged with a delicate bow tied behind my head. All I could taste now with each breath was the sweat from my lovers body.

 

“Oh that evil evil woman” I mumbled through the gag.  Driven to distraction by the scent and taste of my lovers slit pressed against my lips. This taunting tease driving me to madness. Where I expect a throbbing pool of hot wetness, soft like velvet engulfing my tongue, my nose and my efforts evoking screaming, mewling howls and declarations of my place in the pantheon, instead taunted by the taste of her wetness with none of her heat, her softness but none of the enveloping softness pulling me deeper. This I knew was my revenge exacted upon me. Her driving me wild, just as I had her.

 

As I knew this was what was to come, I felt filled; filled by someone I knew not to be there. I knew this by the lack of any sound other than her tuneless musical mumblings, small ditties filling the air with noise, the happiness at her lovers imminent return electric in the air. The toys filling me I recognised from description, from the depths of my imagination and from a promise given to me over the airwaves years ago.

 

She answered the question in the air, “Yes they are exact copies, yes they are accurate as we have been.” I moan into the gag at this feeling, my cunny and my rosebud spread and split wantonly, eagerly, for and by the same man as my lover and the number I became focused on over the years, privately training my body in order to please all of him. Ten inches and for my first time, I blushed hotly as she began the whisper of her actions; chaining, binding the toys together so they slid with each movement I made. She bound my hands to the headboard and taking the choker I had worn for the previous three years bound the ends to the d ring in the centre the ring I hang the property of tag. I am theirs, as they are mine.

The chains like ice on my aroused body, scratching their way gently down my skin as a lover would with their nail. In a twisted mimicry of the ribbons of her camisole the first to a nipple clamp adorning ornamenting each breast, those two then joined with a chain stretching across both peaks, then the clitoral clamp with a chain splitting my breasts, resting down the centre of my body. The constant shifting wriggles of my body now creating soft cold caresses.

 

Standing back to survey her creation she hrmmmed and hummmmed for a while before grinning lightly, then dashed off to her  toy chest. As she got there she collapsed and from the corner of my eye, I saw my lover brought to her knees by the fireball of an orgasm her excited bounce had caused her, the clamps tugged hard taking her already overtaxed body to a level of stimulation she just couldn’t handle. Still totally focused on an order her mistress had given; yes still with me bound, gagged and tied my submissive was mine. She crawled over the box, searching for her target.

 

“Perfect”! she returned to me walking much more gingerly, now stopping only to tie my feet mimicking my arms. Me spreadeagled, rocking onto the toys furiously, her descent into the little depth driving me over the edge of passion.  As I came down, hips still shaking, flicking upwards into the toy I watched her slowly wrapping me like the present I was. The bow perfectly centred on my tummy it crossing both cheeks and shoulders. She stroked my legs slowly, gently setting up the tube of water for me so I was not discomforted by the wait. Setting up the television she clicked play on the remote which lay just out of my reach.

 

“The TV will go off about five minutes before we are ready, that is your warning.”

 

I nod my thanks as best I can, even when dominant, my love is always a gentle caring figure.  About to leave the room, she caresses me with her eyes - a lustful, almost leer over my form as I gasp and plead for more.  More kisses,  more touches,  gods anything! As I rock my hips trying to force the toys deeper, she returns pushing the toys in just half an inch more as I sighed with relief. Giving the chains a playful tug she finally does what she returned for, my eyes not focusing on anything but the TV images, I feel a soft woollen blanket over me as she leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek, “Rest well my artisan, you will need it I suspect.”

 

The final part of our plan now complete, the surprise gift laid on their bed wrapped in heavy thick velvet drapes. I was warm, even cozy if you ignored the bondage and being kept in a state of arousal with the toys. As the door shut I heard a click and the DVD changed. Far from the Disney adaptation of Robin Hood I was left with my lovers face smiling at me and a warning to relax and enjoy the show.

 

This video was different, very different.  It was my lovers in many positions, places, styles. This wasn’t just cold dispassionate porn, no this was full colour lust. They knew each other so well, they played and fit together so well. I was so honoured to watch such intimate moments. This was porn with cuddling and shared come-downs. This wasn’t faked. This was love  -  deep, deep, love.  So deep that none of us ever forgot our burning love for each other. This was a torture but it was torture in that it was the extremes of desire, love and passion and the knowledge that soon, I would be joining with them. As I was coming, I kept thinking I need them to come soon.

 

I registered the aroused gasping moans of happy luxury as my lover slipped into my mink coat, lovingly passed down from my grandmother to “be shared with those you love, dressing well flatters them and gives them you in your best. Also," the old woman who long had been the black sheep of the family whispering, “being devoured whilst lying on fur is divine. The contrast between the fur and the heat is breathtaking.” A statement I have tested and thoroughly agree with. The passion, the burning sensation, the burning pure animal desire as you sink into the loving embrace of the coat.

 

I heard a key slide into the lock as I watched my lovers share that moment that is better than anything else on earth as two become one mind, one body and I joined them. Them on screen, me in the bed they were convulsing in. My body limp and my mind hazy as I heard his shocked “Wow, Lucy! Gods you look amazing.” before I knew from the thump he was pinned, pressed against the door. Soon my time would come, soon our Valentine's game will be complete. I drifted off,;warm happy desired, content. Waiting like a lazy cat curled up on the bed, my heart racing, waiting for their meal to end and for their sampling of the dessert.