The love of a good woman
By atfirstdawn

*Mature content warning for light bondage themes
*©Keira Morrison/ atfirstdawn 2012-2013

I wake up, open my eyes to a momentary haze, and then see her sitting beside me in our bed with a book in her hands. The book is Ryu Murakami’s Piercing, one of her favourites and one of our inspirations. I smile as I watch her. She notices my stirring and turns to me with a smile of her own. Her short yet lank bed-rumpled hair falls from behind her left ear and covers one eye as she turns to me.

“Good morning, bitch-features,” she says, still smiling.

“Hey, you.” I’m far too comfortable to say anything else, I haven’t slept well, but now that my eyes are open I feel as if I could sleep for years. Suddenly I’m remembering yesterday and pursing my lips in melancholic reminiscence.

“You still upset about yesterday?” I nod my head, my expression unchanging. She puts her book down, crawls under the covers, and snuggles into me. “You’ll be okay. Nothing is going to happen, nothing has changed, and things are still normal. You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re going to be fine....”

Her words trail off as she holds me tight. I close my eyes and share her warmth.

“What are you doing today?” she asks me, in almost a whisper.

“Staying here.”

“Mmmm…sounds good.”

“I have to draw some money out, though, and photocopy that stuff at the library. But I don’t want to. When do you have to leave for work?” I probably sound pathetic, but I’m too tired to care.

“Two hours, but I want to cheer you up before I go.”

“I’ll be okay. The walk will help. I’ll take my iPod with me and take my time.”

“Or you could stay with me for a while longer.” I note the playfulness in her voice, and I open my eyes. She’s staring back at me, and raising her eyebrows. I smile at her.

“Make me.”

Grabbing the back of my head, she pulls me in for a kiss and then pushes me back. She sits up in bed and commands that I put my hands above my head and close my eyes. Everything sounds and feels further away with my eyes closed, so much so that I’m barely noticing the metal of the handcuffs being hooked around my wrists. But even so, it’s hard to ignore how fast my heart has started to beat and how warm my skin seems to be against the metal of the cuffs.

The sound of thick tape being ripped and torn from the roll fills the room. Already I’m resisting the temptation to open my eyes. A moment later and my lips are gently but firmly immobilized, reducing me to moans instead of words.

I hear her throw the tape to the floor, and soon she is snuggling up against me as she did before, resting her head on my chest and her hand on my thigh. And here we’ll stay, half-sleeping, half-dreaming. Refreshing, revitalising, and resetting our minds until the day calls her away.