I lay now, breathless from the quick shower, the quick clean-up and the quick beat of my heart as I hear the door open and close downstairs. I am waiting for a few stolen moments of I know not what. The blindfold is secure over my eyes, the music plays in the background and the soft white shirt that is the only thing covering my body gives little protection from the cool air coming from the vent. It was a blessing really because my body was hot – from the shower and from the anticipation of his arrival. My body smells pleasantly of nothing but soap, still damp from the shower. Parts of me are more than damp – instead wet with anticipation of what is to come.
It isn’t accurate to call him a stranger any longer because we have been together several delicious and daring times. But, I have yet to look into his face or have him look into mine. All these thoughts tumble around in my brain as I listen to the footfalls softly coming up the stairs. He steps into my bedroom and, as always, I wonder what he is thinking seeing me there, as instructed.
“Nice Bed,” to which I reply softly, “Thank you.” I have no idea what to expect. I never do. I am all at once apprehensive and intrigued because I know this man is holding back from me what he knows I can’t or won’t handle. Yet, there is always the underlying fear that he will go to far. Then, in my mind, I hear the whispered, “Trust me” from our first meeting. Why should I, why do I? Where is he?
I feel him now lightly tracing his fingers up my leg and the familiar goose flesh over takes me. His touch continues up my body, stopping to caress my breast as I feel his mouth cover mine. Oh god, I was so overtaken by the quick assault on my senses and my mouth. I take his tongue deep into my mouth, ha, as if at that moment my mind or body would have a choice. I wanted more, kisses like these always make me tingle all over, and he was a master at kissing. Ha ha, funny choice of words. He opens my shirt and alternates forceful twisting and pinching on my tits with soft caresses and kisses.
“Turn over and up on your knees,” he demands coaxing me up. I must have been quite a sight as he also instructs me to turn on the bed with my ass toward the side of the bed where he stands. For whatever reason, I follow his instructions as I always seem to do. He has my ass totally at his disposal in this position. Again, the maddening soft and rough strokes squeezing and caressing the flesh of my back side, while he also runs his hands up the small of my back and to my shoulders. I feel his mouth on my ass checks, “No bruises this time,” he laughs. I remember the wonderful feeling of his mouth last time as he left twin round bruises on each check as he sucked my flesh into his mouth. It caused a very erotic feeling to gaze at those bruises as they healed. There was no pain when the marks were made, quite the opposite actually. The memory therefore was very pleasant indeed.
The last time we were together he learned how sensitive my ass is. He learned through exploration with his fingers and his tongue, and witnessed the orgasm caused by his efforts. I don’t know who was more surprised, him or me. It appears that his plan is to repeat his efforts. He brought things with him this time. I have no idea what he is doing as I can only feel the sensations he causes, not seeing what he actually is using to create them. Mmmm, he works his fingers around my pussy and runs his hands up grazing my lower lips as he brushes my clit. I am still worried about pain, as I was especially susceptible to it and I knew he enjoys the sometimes non-existent line between pain and pleasure. In my head, I hear the Queen lyric again, “pain is so close to pleasure.” I’ll never hear that again without thinking of these moments.
My visitor pulls my hands back and makes me hold my checks apart so he has full view and access to my puckered asshole. He has something he is using. I can only assume it is some kind of vibrator as I hear the low hum and the sensations are wonderful. He doesn’t forget my pussy during these manipulations as he continues to tease my wetness and up and around my clitoris. It is so sensitive now, it throbs with ever touch of his fingers. I am confused by the assault of sensation as it feels as if there are more than two hands working to draw out responses from all my lower body.
He offers encouragement for me to let go and I hear that throaty sound he makes when he knows he has done something that makes me squirm. He uses the wetness from my pussy to moisten the opening of my ass, as he slips a finger into my tightness. Oh god it feels good. I at once have thoughts of wanting more and at the same time praying for him to leave before something happens that will cross the line – the line that gets more ragged and unclear every time he is with me.
At this point it is difficult for me to know exactly what is happening. I find this disturbing that I can not orient all these feelings into a single logical experience. I may as well stop trying and concentrate on the sensations as he works to make me feel only myself, something that is very difficult to do and he succeeds because I can not logically detach myself from this experience long enough to analyze it as I often do in “real” life.
