Colombina

Tomorrow, I will see Colombina again.
After six and a half weeks apart.
I have missed her so much, it feels like a part of me is missing.
My stomach is full of butterflies, and I cannot stop smiling.

Soon my Colombina will be here.

Eroticity

Recently, Colombina went away, to another continent, for two weeks. We had only email contact. Needless to say, we missed each other terribly.

What follows is the unedited text of the emails we sent each other.

To: Colombina
From: Harlequin

I want to tease you.

I want to tie you naked, spreadeagle, against a wall.
Then I would kneel down and begin to kiss and lick your feet, slowly, sliding my tongue in between each toe in turn, turning you on as much as I could.
Then I would slide my tongue up your legs, up the inside of your thighs, until I reached your pussy.

Then I would stop.

And I would stand up and slide my hand down your body, and then cup it over your pussy, so you could feel the air warmer around it, but not touch my hand.

Then I would slowly run my tongue over your lips, daring you to move. Pulling your hair. Whispering.

Then I would slide a blindfold over your eyes, and walk away a little.

After a few seconds, or minutes, you can't be quite sure, I return, and I kneel in front of you again.

I have a soft, soft eyeshadow brush in my hand, which I run slowly over your labia, and up to your clit...


This is what awaits you, my darling.

Come soon.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________


To: Harlequin
From: Colombina

You wake up on a bed, unable to see a thing because you are
blindfolded, your wrists tied together and over your head to the
headboard, your legs spread open.

Not a thread of clothing on your body.

My hands run down your sides as I slide down your body, and you feel
the rustle of a very soft fabric. My hands stop at your hips, and,
very slowly, I take your cock in my mouth and start sucking it at a
very leisurely pace, until you feel you can't take it any longer.

And then I stop.

Immediately afterwards, my hand grips your ankle firmly, and you feel
the ice-cold tip of a fork that's been coated in water and left in the
freezer caressing the sole of your foot. The more you squirm, the more
the fork digs itself into the arch of your foot, your heel, your
toes... And then it starts travelling lightly up your leg, insisting
on the insides of your thighs, up your torso and neck, pausing only to
tickle the corners of your mouth.

The fork stops, and you feel my weight shifting as I straddle you, my
bare legs pressing firmly against your sides.

Your blindfold comes off.

And you can see that all I am wearing is a gorgeous lacy corset with
matching knickers, and I start to grind against you without listening
to your pleas to be untied...

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

To: Colombina
From: Harlequin

Imagine you are tied, with your hands behind you, uncomfortably on the floor. Naked. Your legs spread and held.

You see me approach you, with a wicked smile on my face. Slowly, I insert a string of beads into your pussy, and then tie a cord to the end of the string, which runs up through a loop in the ceiling.

Then I attach clothespegs to your nipples, which are also attached to the cord.

The cord is placed in your mouth, and a weight is attached to the other end.

You grip the cord between your teeth, knowing that pegs will be pulled from your nipples, and the beads from your pussy, if you do not keep your mouth shut.

With another wicked smile, I begin to gently tap the soles of your feet with a cane...


___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

To: Harlequin
From: Colombina

You are tied to a wall, with some degree of movement to lean forwards
and backwards. There is a buttplug on that wall aswell, and whenever
you lean against the wall, you impale yourself deeper on it.

I am sat on a table very close in front of you, legs dangling and
spread open, and I tell you to come fuck me.

But do you know what happens if you lean forwards?

You see, there is a cord tied to the wall too. And that cord runs over
your shoulder and down your torso, and at the end of the cord there is
a pair of sweet clothespegs, and the clothespegs are attached to your
testicles. Everytime you move towards my pussy, the clothespegs tug at
you, and if you lean back to ease the tension, there is the buttplug
to behold...

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


To: Colombina
From: Harlequin

Imagine you are naked, and bent over your bed. The dolphin is in your bottom.
Then I come up behind you, naked, and slide my cock into your pussy. I bed over you and grab your left shoulder with one hand, and you hair with the other, and pull you into me, so that every thrust pushes my cock and the dolphin into you more...

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

To: Colombina
From: Harlequin

I want to tie you into a tight chest harness, in pretty purple rope, a harness that holds your breasts in position *very* firmly. Then, I want to take a riding crop, and begin to gently crop your nipples...
Then, when they have had enough, I will loosen it off slightly, add a pleasantly taught crotchrope, and take you for a walk...

It's all in the eyes

One of the many things I love about Harlequin is the changes in his demeanour depending on whether he is dominating or I am. I am not talking about the *obvious* changes (if he is topping, then chances are he'll be the one doing the spanking, and if I am, then he'll me doing my bidding most of the times), I mean those very subtle and delicate signs. In a way, it's like he is retreating into different Harlequins to suit the situation. I don't know if he sees similar changes in myself in these circumstances, and, if he does, if he deems them equally significant, but to me, these idiosyncrasies are at the very core of his sexual persona.

The dominant Harlequin is expansive and grave. He delights in catching me by surprise, in using his physical superiority to his advantage, in showing me just how *easily* he can lift me up and throw me on the bed, or restrain both my wrists using only one of his hands. And his eyes, oh, don't get me started on his eyes. They become hard and dark and hungry, letting me know with every blink that I am his and nobody else's, and that he is going to make sure I don't forget it. That I am his to torture, his to fuck, and also his to protect, and his to love.

But when my dear Harlequin becomes submissive, those very same eyes become warm and big, oh so big, staring at me in awe, begging me to do my very best and very worst with him (which, to all intends and purposes, tend to go along the same lines), letting me know that he is utterly mine, my sweet little fucktoy, mine to play as I want. Although there are no physical changes about his person (other than the fact that he tends to wear considerably less clothes than when he is being dominant), he seems to become smaller, and vulnerable, which makes me want to bite him and spank him as much as it makes me want to gather him in my arms and cuddle him.

These are not the only Harlequins I share the bed with (now that I think of it, it might be fun one day to talk about the Ravenous Beast, a personality we both share), but they are the first two I got to meet, and I love them both to bits and cannot wait to meet them again.