Inside the Mind of a Shy Girl

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Cool silk slithers over my closed eyes and blocks the sun, which streams through curtained windows. Warm breath fans my neck as you work the knot behind my head. My arms are gently stretched above my head and I hear the whisper of another silk scarf as you bind my hands to the wooden slats of the futon. A warm hand caresses me lovingly, grazing my cheek... my neck... my breast. One by one, my feet are bound to opposing corners of the bed. Conditioned air blows up my knee-length, cotton skirt.

My breath catches when a hot tongue finds my earlobe. The scraping of teeth there causes me to buck my hips involuntarily. A hand slides slowly up my thigh and stops just short of

I stifle a moan. Behind the silk, my eyes roll up and my lids flutter.

The first button of my blouse is released. Moist lips nibble at my collarbone, sending a shiver through me.

The second button of my blouse is released. Tiny kisses feather the valley beneath my breasts. I hold my breath.

The third button of my blouse is released. A hot tongue dips into my navel while a masculine chest brushes against the damp crotch of my white bikini panties.

The last button of my blouse is released. Cool air meets my skin as the sides are parted. My nipples take on lives of their own as they strain against the sheer lace that confines them. A wrist brushes the underside of my breast as you release the center clasp of my bra and peel away the cups, the fabric of which glides down the sides of my breasts.

The air stirs as you move away from me.

I wait. Breathe shallowly.

Heightened senses. I hear dust particles dancing in the sunbeam. I hear my heart thump with anticipation. I sense your movement as you pad silently around the room. I feel your heavy-lidded eyes on me and I lick my lips. I feel your gaze travel down the length of me; my skin prickles as it goes.

I'm learning to overcome my shyness one goosebump at a time. Beginning to forget who I was just yesterday. The word "wanton" comes to mind, as I revel in my utter lack of freedom. I attempt to arch my back, despite the taut silk that bites into my skin.

Your weight sinks into the bed as deliciously rough hands skim up my thighs, taking my skirt with them and depositing it around my hips. A knee presses against my dampness and I try to rock against it, straining my bindings. A finger hooks into my panties and pulls them to one side. I swell and open feeling your eyes on me. God, you could finish me with just your eyes. Just knowing you're

The soft slap comes as a bit of a surprise, albeit a welcome one. You wipe my moisture from your hand across my breasts.

The mattress rises with your departure, my ears strain to follow. Tears sting my eyes, I miss you so. Then...

Hot skin, smooth and plump, strokes across my cheek to my lips. My nostrils flare. Musky. My tongue darts. Salty. My mouth is slowly filled and vacated, filled and vacated with a tiny, wet "pop."

Flat, slick-bristly tongue swirls around my breast and licks and sucks me like an ice cream cone. I'm dripping like an ice cream cone. Such pleasure-pain is a pinch.

The air flow changes and I'm alone once more. I hear the creak of a chair as you seat yourself across the room. I imagine you studying me. Envisioning myself in my current state of burning dishabille is at once an embarrassment and a turn-on.

Hyper-alert. Waiting. Just when I thought I couldn't be any more swollen, I feel myself opening still further. The wet spot spreads.

Christ, almighty. Is he going to...

I hope he...

What if he...

Goddamn overactive imagination. Not a finger laid on me in over an hour (okay, it's only been three minutes, but it's been three Long Fucking Minutes!). Just knowing you're sitting there, watching me, probably stroking your gorgeous

The chair creaks oh god please touch me again I'm dying over here. The tip of a tongue flutters along the arch of my foot. Soft, longish hair tickles the core of me as hot, sucking kisses make their way up my thigh. And beyond, praise Jesus! My breasts dance as I ride your day-old beard.

So close, but you cauterize my wound with cool blowing breath. A length of silk is unfurled from one ankle and replaced by a firmly gripping hand. The scarf floats down and lands lightly on my aching breasts, sending a chill through me. You tug it... slowly... across taut nipples... down my belly... and bisect my epicenter. It clings to my moist folds. I feel your heavy hotness press against the silk, against my silk. Up and down, smoothly slides the hot dog in its bun. Firm fingers dig into my ankle and press me wider still.

Writhing. Panting. Good god, I could get used to being this person!

I'm disappointed for a moment when you pull away but I buck off the mattress when you suck me through the silk. The fireworks at Disney World have nothing on what's happening inside my head and I'm

Cold! You pulled the silk away with no warning, but as you curl your tongue around me I find it in my heart to forgive you. I quiver against your mouth and you retreat with a tiny kiss. Moving up my body, you cap my peaks with your wet mouth, then kiss me, giving me a taste of myself. I want another taste of you. I moan something unintelligible that sounds a lot like, "Please."

The weight of your heat touches my lips. My tongue traces the shape of you before I suck you in. Once again, my mouth is filled and vacated, filled and vacated, however more quickly this time. You grunt softly, hands shaking in my hair. Beautiful mouth replaces a beautiful cock as the object of my affection. My body leaves a wet trail along your belly as you slide down me and fill my lower mouth. Crisp hair scrapes sensitive my nipples. Hypersensitive and insensate with lust. The heel of one foot digs into your lower back, pressing you closer as first I, then you, die a little death.

Cool silk slithers across my eyes, which blink out the streaming sun. Warm breath fans my neck as you nestle your damp face against me and we drift... off...