Adagio for Strings

To listen to the version of the titular song I had in mind as I was writing, you can find it on YouTube by searching "Adagio for Strings Samuel Barber Choral Robert Shaw". It should be the first selection. (Image is a blue CD cover with the word "Spirit".)

This is my first story here. I love to write, but need feedback to improve. All constructive comments are welcome, thanks in advance!

***

"Can you come here please?"

I hear your call from the bedroom, though the question is really not so much a request. Curious, I walk down the hall noting that the light in the bedroom is still off. I stand in the doorway. I can see your silhouette against the streetlight that shines through the window. I reach for the switch on the wall. "I didn't say to turn on the light..." I can hear your smile, but there's an edge to your voice that stops me.

Your smile widens, and you crook a finger at me, beckoning me closer to you through the darkness. My face is a mixture of amusement and confusion. You slide your hands over my arms. With a push on one side, a pull on the other, you turn me around, my back to you. I hear the faintest slipping sound, the brush of your body against my back, and then I can see no more.

Smooth cool fabric settles over my eyes which had only just begun to adjust to the lack of light in the room. A soft tug, my head pulled back as you knot the cloth behind me. The briefest hint of breath across the back of my neck, the sweep of lips, and then it's gone, replaced by the soft feathery touch of the tails of fabric you used to blind me.

I can hear the soft padding of your feet as you circle me. Your fingers gently pull the hem of my shirt from the waistband of my pants. The incidental contact of skin on skin as a fingertip moves over my side is suddenly electric. I feel pressure and movement in front of me, your hands working on my belt... the clasp at the front of my pants. I move instinctively to help, only to have you grab my hands and move them to my sides. Suddenly I feel nothing, hear nothing... Moments pass and just as I begin to wonder where you've gone you begin yet again.

I feel the front of my pants peeled open, the buckle of my belt against the front of my thigh, but they are pushed down no further. A light touch strokes once across the line of my shaft, hard in my boxers. Touch withdrawn again, I hear you move around me, my head cocked to one side, listening intently, following you. Warm fingers slide up inside the back of my shirt and rake teasingly back down my skin. Your tongue traces down the curve of my neck, and a light breath over it makes me shudder.

I feel the hem of my shirt lift, urging my arms up as you lift it off of me, careful not to disturb the blindfold. Without warning there is pressure on the inside of my thigh, like caressing fingers stroking upwards... but not far enough... and then gone.... Heartbeats later, the same on the other side. Pauses between touches like voids, each time my breath stops, trying to sense where you might be. My whole body tingles trying to anticipate the next sensation.

After what seems like ages, I feel the fabric of my remaining clothing tugged down my legs. Compliantly, I step away from the pool of discarded things at my feet. I feel your fingers lace through mine, pulling me toward the bed and I climb up. Your hands push and guide me, settling me onto my back in the center of the bed. My cock is hard, pressed against my stomach.

Again I follow your sound, a drawer opens and shuts, and footsteps approach again. I flinch slightly, surprised, as gentle fingers brush my ears, covering them. Headphones playing the soft strains of choral music, Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings. It is not loud, but it is enough to cover any of the quiet movements in the room. Suddenly I am short two senses.

The bed moves beneath me. I savor the familiar taste of your lips as you kiss me deeply. Your tongue moves between my lips. I can feel the soft tendrils of your hair across my face before you pull away. The tickle of your hair over my skin moves down my body, over my collarbone, my chest. The warmth of lips presses against my stomach, teeth nip me teasingly. Once again your body slips away.

It seems like an eternity and again I am left wondering where you have gone... The bed moves again. I feel the heat of a pair of legs straddling one of mine, the brush of fingers around the base of my cock, lifting it to moist lips. As the tip of my cock is engulfed, my whole body tenses, and nearly lifts from the bed because at that same time another pair of lips again brushes against my mouth. A groan, confusion and a sudden spark of realization as I lay back. My whole body pressed into the mattress as two mouths, two sets of warm lips travel over me.

Four soft hands stroke over my body, pressing against my stomach, my chest, stroking over my arms as I lay there, trying to keep still under their attentions. The warm mouth lifts away from my cock for a moment. A hand, then two depart. I feel an extreme cold over my chest, wet, dripping down to my stomach. An ice cube, I guess, followed quickly by the lips that were pressed around my cock only a moment ago. My breath comes quickly now, my increased attention and focus seeming to require physical effort.

It is hard to keep track, the tongues, the fingers, and I give up trying to untangle the sensations and just give in to them. My head tips back as I groan, face flushed, breath ragged. I feel movement around my head, and a familiar musky scent breaches my consciousness. Soft moist skin moves against my lips and I lean up, hungrily lapping at the perfumed folds. My arms wrap around soft thighs, and a low growl comes from deep inside me as my cock is once again enveloped by a warm mouth.

A rhythm begins, the hips over my face rocking and grinding against my mouth as I flick my tongue, moving in time with the lips on my shaft which press and glide over my skin. At times my face is buried so deeply that I'm left gasping for air when the pressure finally lifts, and at just those moments I can feel the head of my shaft sliding into the entrance of that tight wet throat. The tempo increases. My cock is momentarily left bare, and then I feel that second body moving over me. I drive my tongue deeply into the cunt above me as my hips buck upwards, spearing myself deeply into the waiting depths.

The music swells through the headphones and I am lost in a sea of touch and taste, bodies writhing over me, pressing you deeper into the mattress, using me. Every inch of skin is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, salty and hot. Legs tense beneath my hands, and my tongue is flooded with sweet liquid, muscles convulse and shiver around my head. The pressure is pulled away, and replaced by a soft tongue lapping at my jaw.

A moment later the walls of the pussy surrounding my dick spasm and grow impossibly tighter. I grunt at the exertion of trying to hold myself back from my own release, but the pulsing heat allows me no more than another thrust, then two. I cum hard, hot streams of it filling that needy cunt. The culmination of so long being on edge, every nerve so tight since the blindfold was slipped over my eyes.

I find myself entangled in a pile of sweaty sated bodies and stroking fingers as everyone's breath slows and muscles, at long last, stop shaking. Hands slip away, one at a time. Fingers thread into mine, urging me up off of the bed, leading me a few steps. The cool tile of the bathroom floor is smooth and familiar against my bare feet. The headphones are removed from my head by soft hands

and I hear the click of the door shut behind me.

I remove the blindfold, and step into the shower, still in a daze, washing away the sweat and fluids from my body. The steam fills the room, and as my mind clears with it, I begin to wonder if it was all a dream.

I walk back into the bedroom, towel around my waist. You're sitting on the bed under a lamp in your ratty pajamas and reading glasses engrossed in a book. Outside I hear an engine start, and I peek through the window. As I watch taillights drive away through the rain streaked pane, an impish smile crosses your face followed by a soft blush.

Was it just a dream?

The headphones lay on the bed, music player still running, scrolling the name of the song that's still playing in my ears...

You put your book down and crook a finger at me, purring softly with a wicked grin.

"Can you come here please?"