The Plan

I lay there for several hours, with your sleeping head resting on my chest. I ran my fingers through your hair, while my mind worked away at The Plan. I was torn between two evils.

The Package was arriving today. Any minute, the delivery man would arrive, and my plans would be ruined. If you were awoken by the sound of the bell, you would ask. And I would have to tell you. I cannot lie to you. But, The Plan would be ruined. Weeks and weeks of research and preparing thrown away. The element of surprise was key.

Quietly I slipped from beneath your arm, laying your head on the down pillows that had been supporting my body. I watched as you nested in, falling deeper into post-coital sleep, unaware of anything wrong in the world. I slid into my linen pants, and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind me. I slowly walked down the stairs, trying hard to make as little noise as possible. After the night of passion we had just had, I did not think you would wake, but I was taking no chances.

I walked into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator. I took out the pineapple juice and poured a tall glass for myself, laughing silently. Pineapple juice is a cliche, but I was taking no chances. I opened the drawer to the left of the stove, and grabbed the screwdriver. Juice in hand, I shut the drawer, and made my way to the front hallway. I stopped next to the doorbell, and unscrewed the cover. I quickly unscrewed the wire from its terminal, and let it rest to the side, then replaced the cover. Short of opening it up, you would never know.

I replaced the screwdriver, then walked out to the front porch, sipping on my juice. The late evening air was humid without being oppressive. It was just enough to give the skin a healthy glow, a light sheen accenting the muscular shadows. I stared off into the evening sun lazily descending into the horizon when I saw the movement.

The stirring of the leaves was my first sign. I watched intently, sipping on my pineapple juice, as the rustling of the leaves got closer. There was the delivery truck. I watched as the driver slowed, reading numbers on the sides of houses. As he got closer, I walked to the end of the sidewalk, and waved. I knew where he was going, even if he didn't. As he pulled into the driveway, the driver jumped with the rapidity of a man with a long day to go, before he could rest.

He approached with The Package under his arm, clipboard extended. As I signed my name, I glanced back at the window, to make sure you hadn't awoken and seen the delivery. As I looked back, the driver caught my eye, and grinned. He knew what The Package was, and knew what it was for. I had specifically requested that he go and pick it up personally, so that no mistakes would be made. With a nod, and a knowing grin, he waved and hopped into his truck. I stood there, my feet soaking up the afternoon heat of the pavement, as I watched the truck fade into the distance.

I walked back into the house, The Package under my arm. Entering the kitchen, I was chilled by the cool of the tile hitting my warmed feet. I finished off my juice, and put the glass into the dishwasher. I walked down the hall, and set The Package by the top of the stairs, leading to the basement.

With a contented sigh, I went upstairs and saw you sleeping happily with the covers draped over half of your body. Rather than hiding your figure, the folds and curves only served to accentuate your lines. I felt a stirring below, but I forced myself to be calm and fight the feeling. Tonight would be a night where control was an absolute requirement.

I walked to the bed, and sat on the edge. I ran my fingers through your hair, caressing your face, until you stirred. You looked up at me with sleepy eyes, and smiled sleepily. I quietly gave you your instructions.

"My dear, you are welcome to sleep as long as you like. The longer the better. But, when you wake, you are not allowed to leave the bedroom or the bathroom. The rest of the house is off-limits, until I come get you."

Your brow furrowed with confusion at first, but then relaxed. You trusted me. I kissed your forehead, as you slipped back into dreams. Quietly, I stepped across the room, slowly pulling the door shut behind me. I thought of locking it, but quickly shook off the idea. You trusted me.

And I trusted you.

I walked down the stairs to the kitchen, and poured myself another glass of pineapple juice. Its sweetness always caught me off guard, and ravaged my taste buds. The distinctive taste stood out amongst the scents lingering in the air, cutting through to find just the right combination to send an electric thrill down my spine. I smiled inwardly, as I recalled that the taste of you had the same effect on me. That in itself, was the single biggest reason why I had developed such an affinity to the juice I now drank so often. It's taste, though not the same, brought back the memories of tasting you.

I walked down the hall, carefully picking up The Package and descended the stairs, the Berber carpeting massaging the soles of my feet. When I reached the landing at the bottom, I seated myself on the stair, and set The Package next to me. Looking around the room, I marveled at the accomplishment. For eight weeks, I had planned and worked, all before your eyes. Many nights, after a feast of lovemaking, I would slip away into the night, to come down here and work. You accepted it all with an extraordinary patience, granting me the free reign to do with the basement whatever I chose. Fondly, my mind was taken away in reverie.

When I first told you that I wanted to refinish the basement, you had laughed good-naturedly. The previous owners had already finished it, and it was perfectly acceptable, if not noteworthy. With a kiss on the cheek, you gave me free reign to create whatever I chose, and on that night, The Plan began.

You watched with curiosity as I set up a small desk for the computer, with a bookshelf next to it. Many times, you asked if I wanted a better chair than the crude wooden one I used to work on the computer for hours, but I declined. The wooden chair served my purposes perfectly, and only assisted in keeping you in the dark about my plans. You watched as the bookshelf filled with books of all kinds, carpentry, plumbing, novels, erotica..... everything was represented on that shelf.

As the days passed, you lost interest, and left me to the creative energies that raced through my mind. After a week or so, you no longer came down the stairs. Whenever you began to call down to me, I appeared, a smile on my face and a gleam in my eye. You no longer cared what was down there, so long as the passion it instilled remained. Every night, we wrestled, two bodies entwined until we lost track of where own bodies began and ended.

Shortly thereafter, you heard the sounds of construction: the whine of the saw, the slam of the hammer, the high pitched squeal of a measuring tape sliding into place. You could smell the faint sweetness of hot pine, where a board had just been sawn, the metallic tang of metal being driven into concrete, the clean smell of carpet, freshly unrolled.

But, you never came down. It was no longer a lack of interest. Now it was respect. You knew I would show you my project when it was completed. And, knowing my thoroughness, you knew that the result would take your breath away, in more ways than one.

Suddenly two weeks ago, I no longer spent the evenings downstairs. I was once again by your side. That first night, I prepared a feast for the two of us, with no extravagance spared. The crab was matched perfectly with a drawn butter that defied description. The filet, smothered in a thermidor sauce, small pieces of lobster adding to the already exquisite richness.

Every night, you were spoiled more, the decadence increasing until the escapades of last night. Not one, but two mystery lovers, ravishing your body, nothing more than sexual objects for your satisfaction. And now The Package had finally arrived.

With that realization, I glanced at The Package sitting next to me. No more than two feet by one foot, 6 inches deep. After all I had planned, it had come down to this. I picked The Package up, still wrapped in its brown paper, and walked around the room. My bare feet sunk into the deep pile of the carpet. I reveled in the luxurious feel as I crossed the room, grinning with delight as I stepped onto the terra cotta tiles. The warmth radiating from the floor told me that the water pipes below were functioning correctly. I smiled at the ring pattern there in the tiles, as though I knew a secret about its purpose. I saw the small rectangular depression near the ring, and walked over to it.

I knelt down with The Package, and set it gently next to the depression. Slowly, I pulled the end of the twine, unraveling the knot tied atop. As the string fell away, I pulled aside the brown paper. I nearly whooped with glee, as the polished surface of the burled walnut poked through. It was magnificent.

The box was perfect. The dark polished wood of The Package was set off by the lighter wood filigree inset around its edge. The gold plaque imbedded in its top shone with unequaled brilliance, making the dim lights dance in its depths. The gold key in the latch beckoned, calling me to open the box and see the collection I had created.

As I opened the box, the blue silk lining of the lid was exposed, looking like the deepest Caribbean water suspended in cloth. In its surface, the same symbol as on the lid of the box was embroidered. I looked into the deep blue velvet of the box, lost in its color. There they were. My eyes poured over each one, my mind racing at the thoughts of their use. I wouldn't dare to touch them until it was time.

I slowly closed the lid of the box, and set it into the depression next to the ring in the floor. I glided over to the wall unit, carried across the room on wings of anticipation. Again, I felt a stirring in my loins, but I fought it back. If I could not restrain myself now, I would never make it through the night. As I drew close, the smell of warm leather filled my nose. The warm smells of a tack shop consumed me, as I caressed the leather strap before me. Below the strap, I pulled open the drawers. I was tempted to run my hand through, but knew that I could not. I had not waited this long to allow anything to mar The Plan I had in mind.

Seeing that everything was in place, I dimmed the lights and went back upstairs. I slid my linen pants off, and crawled into bed beside you, my body pressed closely to you. The next few days would be memorable to say the least......

A few hours later, I awoke feeling refreshed. I rolled over and saw you stirring, ready to awaken, but still enjoying the last caresses of sleep. I joined in those caresses, my hands stroking your hair and face. The touches finished arousing you from your slumber. As you rolled over, you smiled, and I again felt the stirrings. This was not going to be easy. Seeing the struggle in my eyes, you ran a hand along the inside of my leg, betraying your playful mood. As I stilled your hand, the look in my eyes pleaded that you understand. You were taken aback momentarily, but then you thought of my request earlier, that you not leave the master suite. You knew that I had something up my sleeve, and that maintaining control was an absolute.

Slyly, you squeezed my cock and withdrew your hand, satisfied with the twitch that met your grip. The look in my eyes begged forgiveness, as I told you to brush your teeth, but not to shower. With a perplexed look, you did so.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, I was waiting with a silk robe opened and inviting. You fell into my arms, as I wrapped the robe around your skin. You could feel the cool fabric caressing your body, light kisses touching every part of you. I walked over to the bed, and retrieved the blindfold that had been such an important factor the night before. Slipping it over your eyes, I couldn't help but catch the devilish smile spreading across your lips.

Holding your hand, I guided you down the hallway and down the stairs to the basement. The massage of the Berber carpeting caught you off guard, much as it had me earlier that evening. I watched as your feet reluctantly lifted and moved forward, only to be greeted by the soft pressure again. I warned you of the last step, but you weren't prepared when your foot sunk deep into the pile of the carpet in the basement. You tread across the carpet, like Aphrodite on sea foam, until I gently asked you to stop. I slid an ottoman behind you, and asked you to sit and wait for a moment.

Behind the blindfold caressing your face, you found yourself paying more attention to the sounds around you. You heard a door, but it wasn't an ordinary door. It sounded like glass, but heavier. You heard a light wisp of a sound, that you couldn't identify. As you strained to hear it clearer, it began getting louder. Soon, the white noise in your ears had your full attention. Just above the din, you heard my voice call to you. I asked you to follow my voice. Cautiously stepping forward, you walked across the thick pile, until your feet encountered warm tiles. Amazed at the feeling, you slid across until a light mist hit your face.

Squealing with delight, you stepped forward slowly, until you walked into my arms. I kissed you lightly, darting away before your lips could pull me in. I slipped the silken robe from your body, making sure that the fabric slid across your nipples that were steadily getting moister from the mist in the air. When I had finally pulled the fabric away, your nipples were standing erect, screaming for attention. I slid behind you, and guided you forward. As my body pressed against you, you could feel my cock twitching against your skin. Every fiber of my being wanted to take you right there, and slide deep inside of you, not stop until the last bit of desire had been fucked from both of us.

But I had The Plan

As you moved forward, you felt the mist getting thicker, beginning to turn to a light rain. As you crossed the tile, you felt the texture change to flagstone. The surface soon changed from moist to wet, and the humidity rose incredibly. I reluctantly let you go, and asked you to take two more steps forward. As you stood there, you decided that the water spraying your face, could no longer be called mist. It was now truly a rain. You turned your face up, feeling the water splashing upon your naked skin. You once again, heard the glass sound, now behind you. Lost in the pleasure of the rain falling on you, you spread your arms. You jumped with apprehension when your left hand brushed what could only be described as a plant.

As your hands moved blindly over the plant, you could feel the weight of the rain weighing it down. You ran your fingers slowly down the length of the slender leaf, recognizing it as a fern. As your hand continued lower until it found the planter. The flagstone beneath your feet continued up to form a long narrow planter, filled with ferns, all heavy with water. I watched silently from behind you, as you felt your way along the edge of the planter. The curiosity of new textures had overwhelmed and erased all apprehension of where you were.

I walked up behind you, having undressed quietly. As I moved my body against yours, you could feel my desire pressing against your back, the throb of passion just barely controlled. You leaned backwards into me, as I inhaled the aroma of your essence. The blindfold across your face was now soaked, and clinging to your skin, blocking any chance of sight. I took your hand and walked you with me. I turned you around, and told you to sit down. You haltingly sat, expecting a flagstone bench. Instead, your luscious rear was greeted by a heavily padded neoprene seat. As I gently pushed you back, you realized the seat was a lounge, allowing your body to experience the tiny pulsing pleasure of the rain falling upon you.

I stepped backwards, and you soon felt the temperature of the rain grow warmer. Suddenly, it clicked. This was a shower. A huge shower, with a floor of flagstone, and 9 shower heads filling the entire area with hot steaming water. As you marveled at the effort, a hot sensation on your pubic mound brought your attention back to your hungry pussy.

I gently washed away the sweat and sex from the night before, massaging you with the warm towel, switching it with every stroke. Your already burning desire was further inflamed by the pressure massaging against you. Playfully, I slid a finger inside of you, causing you to gasp. As I pulled my finger out, I offered it to your lips, and you sucked your juices off of it greedily, while I knelt down and took one of your labia between my lips, and tugged gently. I watched as your back arched with pleasure, and stepped away, leaving you hungry for more.

I offered my hand, and asked you to stand up. You rose, and I led you back in the direction you had come from. As we approached the wall of the shower, the rain falling upon you stopped. You heard the click of the button, and again the glass sound filled your ears. As you stepped through, you were surprised at the heat of the room, expecting the sharp bite of air conditioning you were so used to when stepping out. Instead, the heat lamps above you pumped warm air into the room. I wrapped a luxuriously soft cotton towel around you and proceeded to dry every inch of your body, slowly blotting away the excess moisture. You waited with anticipation for the touch across your aching pussy, but it never came.

Carefully, I led you across the tile back to the center of the basement. The warmth from the radiant heating in the floor felt amazing on your feet as you walked. I turned you again, asking you to sit. You did so without hesitation, your faith in me now absolute. You were rewarded with the soft pressure of a suede divan on which you reclined. I asked you to close your eyes beneath the blindfold, and I removed it. The temptation to sneak a peek grew stronger, but you were held in check by the thought of ruining my surprise.

I lifted your legs, one at a time, until your feet were resting just behind your ass, bent at the knee. You felt the sloped arms of the divan move around, as I swung them to the bottom corners. I gently moved your legs into place, as the curve of the arm nestled into the underside of your knee. Suddenly, you realized that the divan had turned into a luxurious bench with stirrups.

I turned around and picked up The Box, moving it to a small mahogany table beside the foot of the divan....

The sound of the box setting on the mahogany table was more than you could handle. Your head twisted, as your eyes opened. You realized the mistake, as your eyes came into focus on the rich wood of The Box. Before you could close your eyes and twist back, I slid a new blindfold over your eyes. I had made sure that one was within reach at all times. I knew that the compulsion to look would be too strong. I watched as relief washed over your face. You welcomed the control of the blindfold, eliminating the chances from your grasp. I smiled inwardly, and stepped away.

The next sound you heard was from across the room, the sound of water hitting a shallow basin, ringing off the walls. A few moments later, the water stopped, and you listened to my feet crossing back across the room. When I stopped, you heard a dull thud, on the surface of the mahogany table to your side. I moved around before you, standing between your legs. I knelt down, and stopped for a moment. Looking to each of your knees, I gently pushed them wider open, adjusting the arms of the chair to a new position. You know lay there, exposed and vulnerable, open to my every whim.

You drew a sharp breath as you felt the moist warmth. I had placed a hot towel over your mound, covering you entirely. I gently massaged you through the towel, as if to massage the very heat into your body. After a few minutes, I replaced the towel with another, continuing to massage. After fifteen minutes, I pulled the last towel from your body, and smiled as I saw your lips engorged with blood, a trickle of dampness evident in your sex.