I wake to darkness.
The champagne lingers in my body, and I do not know how long I have been asleep. Perhaps I dozed off briefly during the birthday celebration — I am not used to so much champagne. Maybe I have been asleep for hours, and Joshua has ushered out the guests and turned out the lights.
There is a heaviness across my eyes, something pressing against the skin. I try to bring my hand to my face, to test what feels like silk, or chiffon... and discover my hands are bound behind me. Gently, comfortably, but without any extra give at all. I am curled on my side, my arms behind me, my legs tucked under, blind.
This is probably one of his little games, but I hear no voices, feel no touch of callused hand or stubbled chin. I breathe deeply and open my mouth to scream for him... and a finger lands softly on it, as a feather might, and a stranger’s voice whispers, “hush.”
I do not know who is here. I do not know who is here with me, in my blue–painted room, in my flannel–sheeted bed. I do not know whether to scream or smile or wait. Maybe I am dreaming.
A hand slips between my legs, parting them gently. This hand is soft, testing, and I am dry as desert, and I do not know if that is what the stranger wants. Apparently not, for he, she, parts my legs even more, and a wet mouth is suddenly moving on me. The mouth plays me like an old friend, tracing a delicate path from inner thigh to hipbone to circle around my clit and back again. This is not Joshua’s touch. This is not a rapist’s touch.
I try to remember the tongues of all my lovers. All of them, every one, did this at one time or another. It’s hard to distinguish once you’re past your fourth or fifth, and the growing fire between my damp thighs is making it hard to think. I am trembling now, as soft hair brushes my hip and a warm tongue thrusts in and out, followed swiftly by one, two, three fingers. And then I am arching, moaning, begging this stranger, and a tongue is tasting my neck and this, this is Joshua, biting softly and the world is starting to dissolve around me... they stop.
Cold hands grasp my breasts and squeeze, hard, forcing a gasp. They twist my nipples cruelly, and I am helpless against this. Tighter and tighter, and then the fingers are replaced by two mouths, biting softer, then harder, until I am pleading, no, don’t, nooo...
I do not say stop. One continues and the other slides behind me, and I cannot tell whom it is. Male, though, his hairless chest pressed hard against my thin shirt, his erection hard against me. My skirt must be pushed out of the way; I can feel the texture of his warm skin against my own shivering.
Fingers gently probe my asshole, and I contract, tense. The mouth on my breast stops its assault suddenly, and it is kissing me, a stranger’s kiss on my lips and so it is Joshua behind me, unless there are more than two here. Fingers return to squeezing nipples, and gentle lips drop butterfly kisses against my mouth, my cheeks, my chin. Joshua’s fingers, I hope, are cold and wet between my cheeks, sliding in and out and around, going deeper and deeper each moment.
A cock slides between my thighs, rubbing gently against my clit as his hips move forward to meet mine. The man in front of me, a man I do not know, continues to kiss me as his cock strokes me, his mouth gently promising, not asking.
o0o
I do not remember when I first started telling Joshua my fantasies. The one about sex with a stranger. The one about two people at once. The one about two men at once, two cocks inside me. The one about pain. The one about being blind.
o0o
A cock presses against my asshole, insistent, demanding. It pushes forward, and I cannot tell how long an eternity it takes to make its way inside. The stranger alternates breast and breast and mouth and neck, at one moment his teeth and Joshua’s on opposite sides of my neck, at another so close they might be kissing. Fingers tease my nipples, my clit, rake fiercely along my back and sides and always the cock in my ass is sliding further and further, until it is lodged inside me and I am almost weeping.
Then the stranger slams into me, his cock in my cunt, his smooth chest crushing my breasts and I am crushed between them, and they are kissing me everywhere. The cocks slide in and out, slowly at first, alternating then synchronous and back again. And the stranger is gripping my head between his hands, his thumbs pressed firmly through the cloth against my shut eyes, and Joshua’’s leg wraps around us both as he thrusts harder and harder; as my moans get louder and louder and he is whispering words of love and the stranger is silent, his chest against my breasts, rubbing and rubbing. And the world once again begins to dissolve, to slow, to freeze with that particular peculiar stillness, as they slam my body between them, and the two cocks erupt, one after another and I cannot tell which is first and the stranger suddenly tears the blindfold from my eyes.
And I come screaming into the light.