I clutched the silken blindfold as I teetered at the head of the stairs, my toes gripping the lip of the top step. I remembered the last time I was in this position – at least then I was wearing a few shreds of clothing. This time, however, there was not a scrap on my body. By his request. The air upstairs was cooler than the room waiting for me down below and I spent little time hovering in my goosepimpled uncertainty before plunging to discover what Mister had prepared for me.
He was still setting up, I found. The centre of the room had been cleared of the coffee table which he had up-ended onto its side by the curtained window. He was holding the red throw in his hand as I entered and after looking my nude body up and down in approval he asked,
Is this machine washable?
Erm….yes – I think so.
Good, he affirmed simply before placing it on top of the carpet.
What on earth was he planning to do with me this evening? Beyond making me so wet I would dampen the fabric beneath me I was again placed off-kilter. He was making this a theme of the evening, I had now realised.
Both my hands were still holding on to the blindfold and now I wanted my deprivation to begin. I meekly held out the length of satin to him and he diligently blotted out my sight for me to be left with the sound of his footsteps disappearing back to the bedroom. He was rifling through the toy box. Thoughts wandered over what he would bring back down here. I was unsure immediately. I was standing, blindfolded, in the middle of the living room. Every movement gained a degree of tentative apprehension. I was suddenly very aware of my hands, crossing them over my body defensively, nervously holding on to my elbows. That was how he found me when he returned. This bundle of nerves, centre of his stage, this crucible.
A ripple of light thudding sounds met my left ear as Mister dropped his clutch of paraphernalia onto the sofa. Judging from the depth of the sounds there were a mixture of heavy and lighter implements. I hoped that my ears weren’t betraying me and that I had picked up on the light flutter of tassels gracing the leather sofa.
He drew close to me then and took my hands away from their comforting gesture with a slight reluctance in my muscles. He knew where to place them – on his arse. Hands gripped, I was steadied and anchored once more. I was secure in familiar ground, as it were.
Momentarily grounded, at least. Until this player’s next roll of the dice.
The next sensation to surprise me wrenched a small shriek from my mouth as a cold liquid was quickly drizzled on my chest to drip copiously down over and between my breasts. The flickering grimace on my face from the chill was happily eased away as I realised the massage oil that he was applying so liberally over me was oozing itself towards my hips and thighs. I was waiting for the accompanying hands of Mister to press into my skin at any second, but instead I received instruction.
Rub yourself on me. All over my body.
That flush of slight embarrassment waved over me again. I never hesitated from hearing his words, but as I began by pressing my chest onto his the image flashed into my head of just how obscene I must have looked, writhing my glossy body up his chest before swooping to my knees, using my hands on his hips to keep my blindfolded balance as my breasts slipped over his thighs. I tentatively placed some kisses and nibbles over his skin here. Moving from one thigh over to the other I sought for his cock and found myself nuzzling in to lick his balls and the base of his shaft. I pulled away and I found myself smiling blindly upwards in his direction as I drew up to standing once more.
Let’s not forget to oil your back now, he said, drenching my shoulders with yet more oil. As you were, carry on.
Those words were spoken with a grin, I could hear it in his voice. I switched position to face away from him and instantly felt a little more sultry in my snaking movements. As I kneeled down again, I left my hands on his collar bones and felt my hair muss against his chest before easing myself around to press into his back. A few more minutes of this and I had covered almost his entire body with this slutty massage and had ended on my knees in front of him.
With a satisfied growl, Mister delivered his next wish, You have me dripping already. Lick it up.
A mixture of pride at my achievements and the challenge at finding this drip of pre-cum with my blindfold on, I leaned in and let my nose and tongue guide me. He was reducing me to navigating by my senses rather than my brain and I wasn’t giving it a second thought. Finding the side of his shaft first, I lashed my tongue up it and wrapped my lips over his head to lap this seemingly offensive drip of his.
Good girl. A hand of his sank into my hair. Gripped tightly. I cooed at this with his cock in my mouth.
Using his hand in my hair as an indication to stand, he gently dragged me to my feet, brought me in close to sink a soft-lipped, head swimming kiss before directing me to move step by unsteady step to a different part of the room. Putting my hands out to guide me, I clocked that he had led me to the upended table.
I was placed in position, my forearms on the upper table legs, hands gripping the lip of the tabletop. This simple act had transformed the coffee table into a rack! Have I said how much I love this man? May have mentioned it in passing.
Spread your legs and brace yourself. Stay. The emphasis on that word was challenging, mildly threatening and wonderful to hear from his lips. And so I stayed exactly where I was. Rooted to the spot. Like the good girl he had told me I was. Braced with my head lowered slightly in anticipation, he retrieved his first implement of choice. I soon discovered it was the new soft flogger. I revelled in feeling the air floating over my skin with those energetic swoops that this black flogger needs to create that impact we both wish. I wiggled in delight. I was enjoying myself. Perhaps a little too much for his liking as I didn’t receive the soft flogger for long before he moved onto the more vicious, yet our more familiar suede flogger.
The first sting made me buckle instantly, making me yelp out sharply. Deliberately aimed between my legs.
I resumed my position, my breathing shuddering from the shock contrast between the two different lashings. A second swipe and I hissed through my teeth, my head sank lower and I my head started swimming. I knew by now that I would be the one dripping for his eyes to witness.
Give me a show. Touch yourself.
To be concluded soon…