Okay. This was originally going to be a really, really strong "T" but as I was writing, it occurred to me: "Nahhh…ain't gonna happen." The situation is just too… volatile. ;) Not sure if this disqualifies me from the contest but the muse has led me to risk it. Anyway, enjoy!

His bindings weren't tight enough to cause pain but they were snug enough to keep his arms behind him and prevent escape.

He'd been stripped to the waist and blindfolded, completely helpless. Her scarf was across his eyes and he could smell her subtle perfume. Somehow that made things even harder.

The room was quiet and although he strained to hear anything: the slip of a footstep across the carpet, an intake of breath or the creaking of the door, there was nothing.

Testing his bonds again, his wriggled his wrists back and forth in attempt to loosen them but it was no use. She'd done a good job. She knew him too well.

There wasn't much to do but sit tight (like he had a choice) and see where fate was going to take him tonight. But damn, it was hard to wait. Patience wasn't one of his best virtues, never had been but now, it was beyond excruciating. About six, seven months in, Gillian had started to experiment with her wild side. It was something she'd apparently never felt comfortable enough to pursue with anyone else but their relationship was very different. They'd always been close but events had started to evolve after Claire and now were cemented by genuine trust, intense love and insatiable passion. They were friends, lovers and almost a year ago, had become husband and wife. There'd been no turning back and no regrets.

The evening had started out normal enough. They'd left the office together, shared responsibilities in the kitchen the make dinner and snuggled in front of the telly to ignore the news, him with a beer and her with a vanilla cream soda.

Then she'd gotten that look and who was he to say no? He rarely ever said no to her anymore and she knew that. She was not only his blind spot but his deaf spot, dumb spot and soft spot all blended together. Now that he had her, he absolutely adored her and she wasn't above exploiting it with a simple lip pout.

And now he waited, dying of curiosity and horny as hell.

There was no way to know how much time had elapsed. Probably much less than he thought but he shifted and cleared his throat. "Um, Gill? Darlin'? How long you plan on leaving me strung up?"

He listened carefully.

Nothing.

At least the chair was padded. They'd swiped one from the formal dining room. It was soft without arms and Gillian had commented he'd be much more accessible in it. He'd had to concentrate heavily to tamp down the instant arousal.

Now it didn't matter if he concentrated or not. He wriggled again in an attempt to lessen the pressure.

"You're killin' me here luv."

There.

A soft, breathy laugh. He didn't hear her movements as her footsteps disappeared into the lush carpet of their bedroom but her laughter had him sitting up a little straighter.

Her fingertips glided over one shoulder, sifted into his hair and pulled his head back. Her mouth was hot as she kissed him deeply but briefly, sucking and then scraping his tongue. She moved away again even as he strained his bonds by leaning forward to try to catch her to continue.

His growl was low but desperate and he currently didn't care if she knew it. One touch and he was on fire.

"Patience."

"Easy for you to say!" He moved his head to follow her voice.

Something cold and rounded lightly skirted down the center of his chest. He jumped and she giggled.

"What the hell?"

She moved it back upward, stroking his throat, up to his chin and pressing it against his lips. "Eat."

Cal opened his mouth, sure to swipe her with his tongue when she placed the object inside. It chewed slowly. Frozen grape. One of Gillian's regular summer snacks. He'd initially thought her crazy but they were actually pretty good.

She straddled his lap and fed him another one from between her lips. This one he chewed quickly, swallowed before stretching up to share another kiss, this time, a slightly chilly one.

Gillian permitted it for several seconds before slipping away, her weight moving off him. He thought about crying but decided it wouldn't be the manly thing to do.

Something new was wafting his way. He could smell strawberry…and vanilla.

He heard her take a bite, heard the little sucking sound she made to prevent any juice from escaping. His eyes came close to rolling up into the back of his head over that sound.

"Gill…" He voice was gravelly.

"Take a bite." She brushed it against his lips and he did as instructed. A burst of berry highlighted with vanilla pudding popped in his mouth.

Swallowing, he risked a question. "Aren't strawberries traditionally dipped in chocolate?"

"Yup."

Vanilla seemed to be the flavor of preference the last few weeks. Pudding, LOTS of Café Vanilla Frappuccinos, vanilla bean ice cream, vanilla cream filled donuts, cinnamon rolls with vanilla icing. It was damned peculiar.

There was a new sound. A slight cracking as a lid was removed and the sound of a peeling inner layer.

The aroma of vanilla once more filled his nostrils, except it was stronger this time. She sat on his lap once again and ran a finger from just below his nose to his chin. His tongue immediately flicked out. Frosting. He almost groaned. This game was going to put him in a diabetic coma if they weren't careful.

Her mouth was on his again, licking and sucking at his flesh and any remaining remnant of frosting. As she kissed him, her pelvis rubbed up against the bulge in his jeans, making him even harder.

"Christ darlin'." The words were muffled.

Her arms laced behind his head and he felt the silk of her robe gap as more and more of her warm skin pushed against his bare chest.

A moment later she was gone again.

He came close to screaming in frustration but didn't get the chance when he felt her hands at the front of his jeans, nimble fingers working to release him.

Movement once more and vanilla frosting was traced from the base of his penis up to the frenulum. His body unconsciously jerked.

She giggled right before her tongue followed the same path.

This time his eyes did role back as her tongue, lips and hands worked their magic against his most sensitive parts. His fingers flexed against their bonds, dying to be released, dying to tangle in her hair and help guide her movements. Not that she needed any help but instincts die hard.

A long, low moan threatened an early release and he tried to push away but there was nowhere for him to go unless he toppled over. Her laughter vibrated against him just before she pulled back.

Panting, Cal fought to gain control and was almost there when she straddled him once more. This time there was no robe and her warm flesh connected directly with his. His breath stopped as she lowered herself onto him, her channel snug and welcome.

He tried to help as he thrust upward, but remained at her mercy as she moved up, down, ground against him and occasionally did that little circular thing she did with her hips. Her lips pushed against his, wetly, passionately as she pleasured them both.

"God, I love you Gill." It came out in gusts as everything tightened beginning at the base of his spine.

"Helps that I'm riding you like a rodeo bull." Despite her gasping, the jab was lovingly edged and they both knew it.

He smiled against her mouth. "Well…there's that…"

Tensing, she clung to him even more tightly as spasms wracked her body and a long, shaking cry escaped her lips. "I love you Cal!"

Somehow his vision went even darker behind the blindfold as he shuddered and released, leaving him a little dizzy.

Her arms were still around him, hugging fiercely even as he softened within. Finally, she pulled off the blindfold and he was left blinking up into her flushed and beautiful face. "That was bloody…amazin'." Cal grinned, still trembling, as she softly laughed, one hand covering her eyes in slight embarrassment. She was always like this and he never ceased to find it lovely and charming.

"Um, darlin'?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you think you could, uh, untie me?"

"Oh!" She slid from him and he had that moment of regret before his hands were free. They immediately reached out and tugged her back into his lap so he could kiss her sweetly.

He pulled back after a moment, gazing into her eyes. "Can I ask you a question luv?"

"Sure." Her expression shifted, became a little smug.

It confused him but he didn't dwell. "What's with the vanilla thing lately?"

"What's wrong with vanilla?"

"Um, nothin', just…I dunno, it's just that everythin's been chocolate for…forever. Why the switch?"

"Too much chocolate can get a little overwhelming at times."

Okay. Now that was just too much. He narrowed his eyes. "Who are you and what have you done with my wife?"

She giggled again and hugged him closer. Her lips were right at his ear. "Wellllll… things happen…tastes can change…cravings do occur, especially when…"

If she hadn't been holding on tightly, he would have dropped her. All he could do was stare.

"You did ask you know." She pointed out.

Where did his voice go? He had it just a second ago. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it and said something intellectually clever. "Yooouuuurrummm, uhhhh, huhhh?"

Gillian nodded, brows rising in amusement.

Not trusting his tongue to articulate words, he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her once, twice, three times before something intelligible finally made its way out. "Thank you for, uh, not craving pickle juice…or sauerkraut."