Cirque de la Lune


Jessica leaned against the cold steel pole. The cold metal caressed her muscular back. Her clothes lay in a pile beside her. Slowly, she slid down the pole. It glided smoothly between her shoulder blades and buttocks. Finally she was on the floor. This was something she had wanted to try for ages. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and drew her long supple legs up behind her head. She folded them behind her neck, crossing them around the pole. Then she reached for the handcuffs.

Carefully balancing herself, she placed the handcuffs on each ankle, shackling herself to the pole from behind. It was a dexterous delicate maneuver, but once the final cuff cinched shut, she was immobilized. Jessica felt a shiver sizzle through her contorted body. Her long dancer’s legs were pinned all the way behind her, her hip sockets straining, her ligaments protesting. A cool breeze moistened her exposed sex. She arched forward, placing even more stress on her pelvis, pressing her pussy against the floor. She moaned. She strained forward and grabbed the tiny key that could release her. She ran the tiny metal object along her sides, along her neck, in small circular motions around her nipples, down her tummy. It left trails of goosebumps. This little key was her savior. She traced her shaved pubic mound with the little key, its sharp metal edges sending waves of pleasure through her pelvis. The intense excitement caused her hips to buck. The key flew out of Jessica’s hand, and clattered across the room. Out of reach.

Jessica stared at the now unattainable key with sudden horror. Her luscious body was helplessly restrained to the metal pole. She struggled. The cuffs clinked against the pole. Her pussy ground against its own wetness. Realizing her dilemma, Jessica leaned back and sighed. The clock ticked. A radio played in the next apartment. A siren whooped in the distance. Eventually she would get thirsty. Jessica ran her right hand lightly along her flat tummy, and up her stretched, bound thigh, and gathered a few drops of sweat. She licked her palm, and tasted the saltiness of herself. She wouldn’t be able to sip from her own body forever. It occurred to her that only someone else could release her.

She had left her front door ajar when she brought the groceries in. Someone would hear her if she cried for help. But her skin was too hungry. She could wait. Her hands played up and down her splayed legs, caressing the creamy skin feeling the taught muscles and strong bones just beneath. These legs were her pride and joy. She had sculpted them over the years as a yoga instructor. She loved to show off her legs at clubs, wearing some naughty little skirt or some tight boots. Now helpless, they were even more responsive to touch. A sexual surge shot through her torso. She twisted upwards and kissed her calf. She ran her tongue along the tattoo of her name just above her knee. Now she kind of wanted to be found. So Jessica let out a cry for help. It wasn’t a cry of panic. It had that husky delirious tone, like a cat in heat. Her fingers lavished her neck. She cried out. Her silky voice resonated out the door and down the hallway.

Angela had just gotten off duty. Another long uneventful day on the LAPD. She was still in her uniform when she got off the elevator. The deep throated cries were coming down the hall. Angela’s cop instinct immediately kicked in. Someone in trouble, she thought. She entered Jessica’s front door and rounded the corner. and beheld the sight of her sweaty hot neighbor, long legs pinned back by handcuffs! Her neighbor’s narrow waist undulated, almost beckoning. Jessica’s soft blue eyes gazed up at Angela.

Angela felt all professional decorum drain away as a small patch of wetness formed beneath her uniform. So this is what her lithe yoga instructor neighbor did in her spare time.. Jessica pointed to the key. Angela went and picked it up. Smiling, she tossed it out of the room. Klink, it skidded across the kitchen floor. Lost. Jessica’s heart raced. Moisture pooled beneath her open pelvis. Angela kneeled down and ran a finger carefully from Jessica’s ankle down to her hip. Jess squirmed, moaning uncontrollably. Her touch was like fire to her quivering limbs. Angela gazed into Jessica’s eyes, and then their lips met. Jessica tilted her head up hungrily, taking in Angela’s tongue. Her torso writhed as much as it could. Angela slipped her fingers to slipped to Jessica’s unprotected breasts. She convulsed. Then Angela grabbed Jessica’s wrists and pulled them back behind the pole. With her own handcuffs, Angela fastened Jess’s wrists behind her ankles. Jessica sucked in her breath, terrified but soaked. She arched her back, totally helpless. Goosebumps played along her golden skin. Angela stared kissing Jessica on the neck. She squirmed and groaned. Angela’s mouth traveled hungrily down Jess’s front, sucking her nipples, nibbling her solar plexus, and kissing her pubic bone. Finally, Angela was all the way down on the floor, ravenously working Jess’s boiling pussy. Her mouth chewed, nibbled, licked her flaming slit.

Jessica heaved, her muscles grew taut and shiny as her arms and legs struggled for freedom. Angela kissed her over and over, drinking in her fragrant love juices. The passion seemed to be pouring out of Jessica’s heaving frame. Jessica was mewing, her eyes rolled up. Her breath quickened, her moans rose to screams, and she exploded into Angela’s mouth. Every ounce of energy in Jessica’s body focused into her pelvis. Her vagina pulsed. Finally her writhing subsided to quivering. They kissed tenderly. Angela would find the key in a few hours.