| |
Samantha
My phone pings just as I get into my car to go home from work. I swipe my thumb over the face of the phone and glance at the softly lit screen. I smile at Brad’s name there.
Brad: I miss you. I can’t wait ‘til you get home.
Me: I miss you too.
Brad: Tonight, is all about you, Sam.
Me: Oh, really?
Brad: No talking when you get here. Don’t look for me. Go to the bedroom, freshen up and get comfortable; clothing optional. Put on the blindfold, lay down on the bed and relax. I’ll take care of everything else. Message me when you’re ready.
My mind races with impure thoughts as I read over his text. It’s Brad, but it’s not. We’ve done a few indecent things, but this... This is taking things to a whole other level. We’ve never used a blindfold before. I wonder where all of this is coming from. Did he notice a change in my behavior this week? I have been acting kind of strange after what happened with Garrett on Monday. I hope he doesn’t think that my behavior has anything to do with him. Honestly, I don’t know how to tell him about Garrett, and we’ve barely had any alone time this week. My plans were to talk to him about it tonight, but with him leaving, it’s not the best time.
I fire off a response to his message.
Me: Are you sure? Sounds dangerous.
Brad: A little danger never hurt anybody. ;)
Me: Okay... As you wish.
I put my phone away and look up to find Jeff, the manager, still standing by the front door watching me. I smile and wave, letting him know that I’m fine. An inkling of shame bubbles up inside of me. Jeff couldn’t see the messages, but I feel like he knows somehow, about the dirty thoughts and cryptic messages.
He waves as I drive past him and out of the parking lot.
Usually, I’m tired when I get off from work, and sleep is at the forefront of my mind. I want to go to bed for a totally different reason when I get home tonight. My adrenaline is pumping, and all I can think about is Brad taking care of everything else.
The apartment is dark when I arrive, except for the candles lighting my way to our bedroom. Soft music fills the air once I enter the room. The room is nearly dark. One lone candle sits on the nightstand. The scent of strawberries sifts through my nostrils, and I breathe in the sweet scent. My hand covers my heart when I see the outline of the rose petals on the bed.
I put my things down and take a quick shower. I slip into my black lace underwear and a matching bra. Unwilling to prolong this treat any longer, I position myself in the bed, send Brad a quick text, and cover my eyes with the blindfold.
I lay still, listen, and wait.
Minutes later, I hear the click of the bedroom door. My anticipation skyrockets. The room seems to fill with heat. I want to remove my blindfold and get a good look at him, but that would ruin the vibe. I trust Brad. I don’t need to see what’s happening to feel it. Whatever he has planned, I’m sure I’ll be satisfied once this is all over.
The sound of footsteps quietly approaches me. I hear a ruffling sound. Something lands on the floor softly. I hear the sound of a foil wrapper being ripped open. A very quiet click echoes near my ear. The darkness behind my blindfold becomes even darker. The bed dips near my feet, and my body goes still.
I don’t know why but even knowing it’s Brad on the other side of my blindfold, for a moment, I still feel an unexplainable fear. It’s like we’re playing a dangerous game. No one gets hurt, but playing out this scene where he takes complete control over me, and I can’t see him, leaves me with mixed feelings. Exhilarated. Aroused. Anxious. Nervous. Though I’m more aroused than anything else.
Warm hands caress my ankles and continue up to my thighs.
Music.
Movement.
Ice mixing.
A loud pop from the wine bottle, I assume.
Pouring liquid.
I arch my back when something cold runs across my stomach. Still, neither of us speaks. A cool strawberry teases my lips, urging me to take a bite. I take the offer, chewing slowly and being careful not to choke. I jerk my head at the snap of a cap to my left. The bed dips again, this time much deeper than the first.
My hands are brought up over my head, but left free. I guess in addition to no talking, no touching is also on the list. I lay still as a whooshing sound invades my ears. I smile. Whipped Cream. I prepare myself for the soft foamy texture, but it never comes.
Instead, I’m maneuvered onto my side. I feel the material around my breast loosens. With my back on the bed, my bra is taken away from my body and up my arms. He slides my panties down my legs and off of my feet.
Music.
Seconds tick by.
The coldness of the whipped cream causes me to tremble when spread across my thigh. My chill is quickly replaced by the warmth of his mouth lapping at the moisture. His hands carefully knead my breasts. Every nerve in me comes alive the moment his tongue touches my center.
My back arches again.
His lips surround me fully as he begins to lick and suck on me. His fingers pinch the small nerves of my chest. I let out a small moan and my back arches yet again. It’s too much. It’s a lot to take in all at once.
His hands take control of my waist, pulling me further into his mouth. It’s like he can’t get deep enough. I didn’t know that so much pleasure could come from such a simple act.
The coldness of him pulling away hits me hard. I want him so bad. I want to feel him. He places a kiss on my ankle and drapes one of my legs over his shoulder. The weight of my other leg hangs in his hand. The feel of his tongue sliding across the base of my foot jars my senses. My leg falls over his shoulder as he positions himself between my thighs. He enters me at the speed of a turtle, making sure I feel everything slowly and intently.
I squirm beneath him. He pulls away just as I’m on the brink of release.
“Brad,” I say, pleading for him to continue.
He lowers my legs onto the bed without a word.
I want so badly to touch him. I move my arms in an attempt, but I’m cut short before I can make contact. His mouth finds peace again at my center. He continues to work on me until I can no longer take it. I fall over the edge, alone, happy, satisfied.
With my adrenaline gone and the busy day finally catching up to me, I whisper, “be safe.” His lips gently kiss my forehead. I’m too tired to remove the blindfold to look at him. I drift away to sleep.
***
WHEN I WAKE UP THE next morning, the only evidence of the events the night before is the few rose petals on the bed. I hold one of the petals between my fingers, remembering what happened. Brad’s side of the bed is empty. I didn’t get to see him before he left.
The clock on the wall reads 9:18 am. I slept later than usual this morning. I want to call him, but he’d told me they would be up early this morning searching for a place for his dad’s possible expansion. I decide against it. The fewer distractions they have, the quicker they can be done and come back home.
I get up, take a long bath, and slip on some shorts and a tank top. I fix myself a bowl of cereal and sit down on the couch. I’m flipping through the channels trying to find something interesting to watch when my phone rings beside me. I hurry to pick it up, thinking it’s Brad. I frown at the screen and answer as cheerfully as I can.
“Hey, Em.”
“Hey,” Emily says on the other end. “I know you have work later, but I was thinking that we could have lunch today.”
I glance at my bowl of cereal that’s getting soggier by the second. “Sure. Where were you thinking of going?”
“Maybe to the shop here on campus?” she questions.
I don’t respond. I haven’t spoken to Brad about the other day yet, and the last person I want to see right now is Garrett.
“Or I could pick something up and come to you,” Em says, taking my silence as a no.
“That would be great,” I say.
“Do you want anything special?”
“No. Surprise me.”
“Ooh,” Em says. Her mysterious excitement seeps through the receiver. “Okay. I’ll be over in about an hour.”
I end the call and discard my cereal. The thought of lunch makes my breakfast undesirable.
An hour later, Emily arrives with lunch. She opted for crinkle fries and egg rolls from the Chinese restaurant. My mouth waters when the aroma floats in around her. She’s learned quickly, my likes and dislikes. I could hug her right now.
I take the bag from her hand and set our food up at the bar in the kitchen while Emily grabs us something to drink.
She turns away from the fridge with a bottle of wine from last night raised into the air. I blush at the memory of last night. I passed out from exhaustion before I could drink any of it. I wonder what Brad did with the glass he poured last night.
“Special occasion?” she asks. She twists the bottle in her hands. One foot holds open the refrigerator door.
“It was for me,” I say, feigning shyness.
She replaces the bottle in a rush and grabs two sodas, closing the fridge behind her. She slides onto the stool next to me and clasps her hands together.
“Do tell,” she inquires.
“I can’t go into detail, but I will say that Brad knows how to entertain.”
“That’s it? That’s all the information you’re going to give?”
I shrug. “I can’t Em. Even if I could, I wouldn’t know how to describe last night. It was far too intimate to put into words. I saw a different side of him last night.”
“Must’ve been some kind of night.”
“It was.” I sigh.
Last night made me forget everything bad that happened this past week. My whole body tingles when I think about it. My reservations about the blindfold were completely misplaced. He made me come alive in a way that I’ve never been, and in a way that I want again. Only next time, I want everything. I completely lost myself in the moment. It was intoxicating, and the memory has me on a constant high.
