Blackness envelopes me as you finish fastening the blindfold. Smiling as your voice floats behind me, your fingertips trailing along my shoulder and arms. Our fingers wrap together as you lead me down the hall and into the bedroom.
My thighs make first contact with the mattress and I stop, waiting for your instruction. Fingers parting, your lips breeze through my hair to my ear. "Get on the bed."
"Shouldn't I undress first?" But your finger on my lips indicates I should leave that to you. And I mount the bed, your hands directing that I crawl up and remain on all fours.
A long moment passes and my ears strain for signs of your movements. A drawer scrapes open, followed by the dull shuffle of items being moved, and I think chosen. The drawer signals it's return and the room is silent again.
My skirt is raised with the material collected on my lower back. Exposed, but still covered, to you. One, no maybe two, fingers trace from the back of my knee upwards. Retreating before they reach mid-thigh.
Now another sensation along my calf's: Strings? Braids? No, too soft and wispy. Then it hits me, hair.
Picturing you using your hair, your head tilted to the side, as you kneel behind me. But you speak and I know its not your hair as your voice is much too high for your face to be at my legs. "Have you guessed yet? Can you place it?" And my mind churns, what could it be?
The light feathered touch ends but I still haven't solved the mystery. A touch along the leg opening of my panties draws my attention away from it. Not a finger, something firmer. Solid. Rubber or latex perhaps.
This new enticement is suddenly rejoined by the caress of the hair. A turn and twist and it dawns on me that both sensations arise from a single item. A sudden recognition and flash of excitement as I now suspect what your surprise is for me. And my face breaks out with the insight.
"Yes, you remember it now don't you?" Your voice playful and pleased. Another turn in your hand and the length of it is against my leg. The long tapered shaft with its longer explosion of hair. "You did want to be my pony-girl didn't you?"
I don't answer, my mouth dry and thoughts racing. Remembering it in the display and my disappointment when we didn't leave with it. But you had other ideas for that evening and you know how I love your surprises.
A shifting on the bed accompanies the removal of the toy. You must have set it down as your fingers hook into the crotch of my panties. I think you mean to pull them down but I'm met with another surprise. Your fingers meet midway and I feel the fabric pull and stretch until finally a ripping.
With the crotch torn open, your fingers depart but soon to return. Again, moments pass then the shredded opening is widened. Cold wetness announces the lube you place into my ass crack. One hand pulling me open so you can paint my rosebud.
Your forefinger presses forward. Slick. Familiar. Confident. Opening and readying me. You push it deep inside me, working it left and right, up and down, in and out.
It withdraws and I await its return, most likely with a second finger. I'm not disappointed when seconds later I feel two press back. But I am surprised by the hands that take hold on my head. Startled further when my face is lifted and my lips met with a kiss.
