“I never have.”
“This is different though, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“But words are hard.” Ideas begin to form in my head, and I slowly start unwinding the ropes around him, dropping coils on the floor as I go.
“Yeah.”
“You aren’t sure if you can do that, are you?”
“I don’t know.” His standard answer.
“Maybe we should try something else. Hmm...” I think about it for a moment as I reach for his wrists and untie his hands. “Hand signals aren’t great when you’re tied. What about moving your head?”
“My head?” Rocco looks at the rope in my hands as I take the last strand away from his skin.
“If you like something or you agree with what I’ve said, tilt your head to the right. If you don’t like it or don’t agree, tilt your head to the left. Do you think you can do that?”
“Yeah.” Rocco nods. “I think that might work.”
For a very brief moment, I think I catch the glimpse of a smile on Rocco’s face.
“Let’s start simple, then. I want to tie your hands over your head, attaching the rope to the hardpoint above you. Okay?”
Rocco slowly tilts his head to the right.
“But first, I want to take off your shirt.”
Rocco reaches for the hem of his shirt, but I grab his wrists with my hands.
“I said I want to take it off.”
He gives me a confused look before moving his hands away and tilting his head right.
I take the hem of his T-shirt in my hands and slowly pull it up and over his head. I stare at his bare chest for a moment before I toss the shirt to the side.
“I’m going to tie you up and touch you,” I say. “How do you feel about that?”
“Touch me where?”
“Your arms, your chest—anywhere I want.”
He tilts his head right, blushing slightly.
I grab a handful of rope, quickly tying Rocco’s wrists in front of him before tossing the working end of the rope through the loop on the hardpoint. Moving behind him, I pull gently until his arms are stretched, and his hands are secured above his head. I smile to myself as I lock the end of the rope at the bindings around his wrists, immobilizing him and giving me all the access to his body that I might want.
I swallow hard as I consider this, and my skin tingles with excitement. I place my hands on his shoulders and lean in close to him. He shivers once and then stands still. I run my hands down his back and then wrap my arms around him, holding him briefly before moving around front and looking up at his face.
His eyes are closed, but his head is still turned to the right, so I continue, touching his chest and arms before moving to his stomach. I run my hands up and down his sides, stopping at the edge of his sweats. I hook my thumbs just inside the fabric.
“I want to take these off,” I say as I look up at him.
Rocco opens his eyes and looks at me for a second before slowly moving his head to the right, and I waste no time pulling the sweats down his legs. He steps out of them, and the garment joins the shirt on the edge of the mat.
For the first time, I have a real chance to look him over. I walk in a slow circle around him, taking in every wiry muscle I can see. He has long, slender legs with just enough definition. He’s not buff like some of the other guys around here, and that suits me just fine. I’ve never had a thing for buff guys—it’s the skinny ones I’ve always liked. I look down. Though his ass is still covered by his shorts, I’m pretty sure he has butt dimples.
I walk back to the front, run my hands up his arms, and then drag my fingers down his chest. I circle one of his nipples with my finger until it hardens, then do the same with the other one. I move my fingers down, tracing the ripples of his stomach as my gaze drops lower.