The blackness was complete. Although it wasn't uncomfortable, it may have been borderline unnerving. She would never let him see that weakness in her, though. In the darkness she was aware of more. So much more: the feel of the bed, the temperature of the room, the sounds of her own breathing, deep and steady. Very controlled, she thought to herself, as that was exactly what she was trying to do. Each heartbeat echoed loudly in her ears, each pulse sending a wave of feelings shooting through her entire body. And the smell. She knew his smell, and now she could sense just the slightest hint of his musky scent. It was a smell that brought her both comfort and arousal.
She licked her lips, almost involuntarily.
A deep breath.
Yes, the blindfold covering her eyes definitely heightened everything else she was feeling. And as she went to shift her weight on the bed she met other resistance. Again, not uncomfortably, but enough to remind her that the restraints gently wrapped around her wrists and ankles were there to keep her in place.
She could hear him—a quiet rustling as he moved about the room—and a faint, reassuring smile broke across her face.
But now a larger picture opened in the vivid imagery of her mind, and like that the smile was gone. She was stark naked on the bed, tied down and blindfolded...more vulnerable and exposed than she had ever been to any man. For the briefest of moments, her insecurities manifested themselves and her mind started to race. What was he looking at? What was he thinking when he saw her? Could he see every flaw in her body that she was painfully aware of?
"It's okay, sweetness...." his soft whisper broke the silence. "You're safe here".
She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I know."
Her mind drifted back to that August afternoon where they had first met. It wasn't that he had classic good looks, or money, or swept her off her feet...or even the things that she would have looked for in a man when she was younger. Rather, there had been a kindness about him, mixed with self-confidence. The way he touched her on the arm, or smiled when he talked to her. And he made her laugh...not just 'funny laugh', but intelligent and silly at the same time...the kind of laughter that made her happy. He was gentle and nurturing, yet strong in the kind of ways that she needed most. She had known right away that he was different, and in the time since, her perceptions had played out like something she had only dreamt about. Sure, there were moments of growing pains, of his insecurities and hers, the usual dance as two people struggle to find how they fit in the puzzles of each other's lives. There were even times where she pushed him away. But in the end the two of them had found something amazing.
The first time he had blindfolded and restrained her in the bedroom she had been exposed to an entirely different world. Nervous as she had been—well, terrified, in some ways, might have better described it—the scarf he had tied over her eyes had actually eased her insecurities of him looking at her with the lights on and made all the noise in her head go silent. The act of restraining her by the wrists and ankles, while they restricted her movement, forced her brain to slow down and relax. And in that relaxation she found that all her other senses exploded to his touch. It was the most erotic experience she had ever known. Beyond that, she realized, he could take her vulnerability and turn it into his own strength. It let her be consumed and devoured by his masculinity, while she melted into her own feminine softness. In the act of completely giving herself to him, she told him he could do anything he wanted to her sexually. And she meant it. She had never felt as beautiful, as desired, as craved as a sexual being by someone, as she did when she was with him.
Beside her, the bed gave way to his weight as she felt him sit down next to her. There was an uncomfortable pause, but she knew exactly what he was doing. She knew he was looking at her, drinking in her body with his eyes. If it had been anyone else, she would have struggled in an effort to cover herself up, but not with him. As unnatural as it felt, she knew he truly was seeing everything beautiful and sexual in her. He was the only one who could make her feel desirable and free her from her anxiety.
Her breathing got faster. She knew what was coming next, and she was not disappointed.
The touch of his fingers on her neck was light and gentle. His skin was warm on hers. It wasn't that his stroke was rough so much as it felt textured. She could feel the grain of his fingers as he traced the front of her neck and shoulders, down between her breasts into lazy circles around her belly button. It was almost like he was outlining her body with his hands, drawing lines down her sides, teasing her curves and touching everywhere.....everywhere except where she ached for him to touch. His hands slid slowly up her body and gently cupped the soft undersides both breasts. She drew in a deep breath and held it. Her nipples tightened and hardened in anticipation as she felt the heat from his palms hovering just out of reach. She arched her back on the bed, pushing her breasts into his hands. She felt his fingers envelop her; softly squeezing them, then felt his touch tracing the outline of her nipples. Oh, how she loved the way he touched her nipples, gently took one between his finger and thumb, softly pinching and pulling it in a way that sent shivers through her body.
"Beautiful", he mumbled. Her face broke into an uncontrollable smile, which caught his attention and in turn made him smile in a way that she would never see.
He leaned down over her, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck. She loved the feeling of his hair brushing against the side of her face. Gently he kissed and nibbled at the soft skin on her shoulder, slowly licking his way along her neck. It was her favorite place. A touch from him there rendered her helpless, the feeling of his lips and tongue teasing her there melted her, and resulted in an uncontrollable wetness between her thighs. Without thinking, she angled her head to kiss him with her lips, finding his cheek, his hair, wherever she could make contact with him. His kisses moved to her breasts, her body following his lips, seeking their attention, but he kissed only where he wanted: the valley of her cleavage, the sensitive undersides, tantalizingly close to her areola.
She let out an audible moan—a mixture of frustration and pleasure. A pause as he stopped motion, lingering just on the edge of her nipple. She could feel the wetness of the tip of his tongue taunting her exasperation....waiting.....but was rewarded with the warmth of his mouth encircling her nipple with its warmth. Another moan escaped her throat, this time in relief, accompanied by her pushing herself farther into his mouth. He loved to suckle her nipple. He wasn't sucking on it. More like he was making love to it with his mouth and tongue, rhythmically drawing her nipple deeper into her mouth, not too hard, but not to gently, each suckle making every nerve in her body feel like his tongue was touching it, waves of pleasure flushing into her breasts. It was made more erotic with her knowledge how much he craved enjoying her this way. She licked her lips again as he moved his mouth to her other nipple, replacing his fingers on the first as she felt his warm wetness envelop her once more.
He let her nipple slip out of his mouth. It was met with a muffled cry of protest as he pulled away, but she knew that he would next move his attentions down her torso...a playful tease with his tongue in her belly button, his hands and lips exploring the ticklish sides of her body with a gentleness that made her arch her back, and finally to the soft spot across her the front of her hips. His fingers reached out to run through the soft tuft of pubic hair that she had neatly timed in a small triangle. He liked that this was how she liked to shave...everything smooth, but with just enough for him to play with. She liked how he would then tease the hair between his lips, nuzzling close to her thighs.
