The memories seemed to move from her mind and into her fingers as they moved over her body. Images of the room . . . softly lit . . . shadows hiding the pleasures that waited in the dark . . . sounds she could not quite distinguish teasing her ears . . . It was all so real as she remembered the way He had led her down the stairs and into her fantasy. She moved the sheet down so that she could touch her breasts. She slid her fingertips around the sides of them . . . caressing herself lightly . . . then circling her nipples . . . just barely brushing them . . . feeling them stiffen. She thought of how it had felt when all those unseen hands had touched her. She closed her eyes and she could feel them again . . . on her legs . . . on her breasts . . . stroking . . . teasing . . . bringing her such incredible pleasure. She remembered how she had struggled against the restraints and how they had held her secure in their grip. She spread her legs under the sheet and imagined herself on that table again . . . her legs in the stirrups. One hand drifted down across her stomach and rested lightly on her soft mound. She fought the urge to slip it between her legs immediately. Instead, she pictured her arms stretched above her head, as they had been that night . . . while fingers had made their way along her inner thighs . . . moving ever closer . . .
The darkness behind the blindfold had been so complete. It had allowed her to surrender to the pleasure. She had been unable to resist. She could only lie back and let them . . . whoever they had been . . . to touch her as they pleased. Slowly she moved a finger until it touched the edge of her growing wetness. In her mind she was reliving the feel of the tongues licking closer to that spot. When they had touched her there, she had cried out, just as she did now when her finger found the sensitive bud. The sensations had taken her breath away. She had been swept along on a wave of continuous ecstasy that had finally sent her plummeting over the edge. The memory, as much as the fingers moving between her legs, sent her there again and she shuddered as her orgasm washed over her.
She lay for a few moments, catching her breath, reluctant to leave the fantasy. Only the thought of the evening ahead brought her back to reality. She thought about what He had said before He left for work. They had laid side by side after having made love . . . she could feel the remains of His orgasm mingling with hers on her fingers now . . . He had kissed her and told her that there was another party that night and He wanted to take her. The twinkle in His eyes and the slight smile He had when He said it had made her tingle. He had told her that He would be home at 6:00 and that after He had showered and changed they would go. Then He had kissed her again, deeply, and left her alone with her thoughts and fantasies. Not wanting to get up right away she laid there savoring the memories until she had known she would have to cum again before she could do anything else.
Now that she had, she resisted the urge to do it again and got out of the bed and went to the shower. As the warm water cascaded over her body, she realized that her desire had not been satisfied only heightened. She washed herself all over, trying not to get too caught up in the sensations of her soapy hands moving over her breasts and between her legs. With a deliberate effort, she rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. But even the feel of the towel on her warm skin seemed to go right through her. She took a deep breath and determined to get control of herself. She quickly dressed and went out to do some shopping in preparation for the night.
As she drove to the mall, she thought about the previous party again. She had never realized how strong her fantasies of such a night had been before. She had often wondered what it would be like to submit completely to whatever it was that he wanted. But he had never broached the subject and she had not known how to bring it up. Sex between them had always been wonderful, but she had longed for something more and now that she had had a taste of it, her mind seemed to be always full of other possibilities. They had never really spoken of what had happened, though her had taken her that night in a way that thrilled her even now to think about, and their lovemaking since then had been as it was before. But, in her mind, she often returned to that room and what had happened there. Maybe tonight, she thought, and she could not help but squirm a bit in the seat.
Once at the mall, she took her time making her selections. She wanted to find something special to wear . . . something, she hoped, that would match the occasion. She rejected many of the things the saleslady brought to her until she saw the ivory outfit. It was a beautiful dress that buttoned to the neck but was slit high on the side. She chose an ivory lace bra, sheer ivory panties and a pair of thigh high ivory stockings to wear underneath it. It was perfect, she thought. Demure enough to look almost virginal from the waist up, it would also allow for tantalizingly brief glimpses of her legs as she walked. She took her purchases to the counter to pay for them. As she waited, she noticed the man across the store watching her, though he was trying not to be too obvious about it. She saw that he had seen the items she had selected and she imagined that he was picturing her in them. The thought that he was seeing in his mind how they would fit her body brought a warm blush to her cheeks. For instant, their eyes met and she was a bit shocked to see desire there. He smiled approvingly and she blushed again and turned away. But she could feel his eyes still on her and her nipples tingled. She busied herself with completing the transaction, signed the charge receipt and handed it back to the saleslady. As she did so, their fingers touched and she felt a sudden rush. She looked at the woman behind the counter . . . who was strikingly attractive; she realized . . . and thought she saw the same thing in her eyes. The woman met her gaze steadily, and somewhat knowingly, and maintained the contact with her fingers until she pulled her hand away. Disconcerted by all of this, she thanked the woman and quickly left the store.
On the drive home, she thought about what had happened and wondered if she had just imagined it all. Had she reached the point where everyone was a potential sex partner now? Had her fantasies so completely taken over that she felt touches and looks from total strangers as stimuli for her seemingly overheated libido? She did not even know those people in the store, but then she realized suddenly she had not known any of the people at the party either. She had not even been able to see who was touching her and giving her such pleasure that night and she had not cared. All that had mattered was that her fantasy was coming true and she had been the center of attention. She had wondered since then who they had been and if they had experienced pleasure as well at sending her so completely over the edge but she had been so consumed by her own lust, it had seemed secondary at the time. What, she wondered, would it be like to see others experiencing the same kind of passion? Images of bodies moving against one another . . . doing things to each other . . . filled her mind. She had seen movies, of course, but what would it be like to be able to hear real sounds and smell real scents . . . maybe even feel bodies moving against her . . . Oh god, she thought, I need to be in control now. But what if she wasn’t . . . She vigorously shook the images away and concentrated on driving home.
The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully, though, the images continued to haunt the edges of her consciousness. She did various things around the house and tried not to check the clock too frequently. Finally, at 4:30, she decided to start getting ready. She took a long hot bath, though it was more to relax since she had already showered that morning. The water wrapped around her body like a warm cocoon and she dozed for a few minutes until it started to get cold. She then dried off and went to get her new outfit. She slipped the panties on first. They slid silkily up her legs and fit snugly against her mound. She looked in the full-length mirror and could see the dark patch of her hair there between her legs. Next, she put on the stockings, pulling them tight. The bra cups were smooth, there was no seam, and her nipples could clearly be seen through the sheer material. She watched, as they grew hard and pointed and strained against it. She stood for a moment and looked at herself, then realized that her panties were growing moist already. Damn, she thought, she had been wet all day. Quickly, before her mind was distracted once again, she slipped the dress on. It molded itself to her curves as if it had a mind of its own. She buttoned the buttons to the top, then stepped back to survey her appearance. The dress did look demure, in a slightly naughty kind of way, she thought, especially when she turned and saw how high on her thigh the slit was.
Her reverie was broken by the sound of him coming in the house. She met him at the bedroom door and when he saw her he stopped and just stared. She stood, drinking in his gaze and thrilling to the intensity in his eyes as they traveled up and down her body. She could see the desire in them and in the growing bulge in his pants. “You look absolutely stunning,” he said in a thick, almost husky, voice. She beamed in the glow of his praise and kissed him on the cheek . . . she did not trust herself to do any more, she had been so aroused all day that if she did, they would never make it to the party. “Take your shower and I will wait for you downstairs,” she told him and slipped past quickly, deliberately avoiding the bulge, in spite of her desire to touch it.