Bound Excitement

Blindfolded in the living room, she expected his hands. The first touch landed softer, smaller, lighter than she knew his to be. Surprise darted up her spine. A woman’s mouth pressed to her neck. The kiss was slow, wet, deliberate, tasting the sweat already at the base of her throat. Fingers worked down the front of her blouse, one button at a time, knuckles grazing bare skin underneath. Warm breath slipped under each newly opened inch. When the last button gave way, both palms slid beneath the fabric, cupping her breasts with aching care before thumbs traced slow circles around already stiff nipples. A tongue followed, licking heat over the peaked flesh, then cool air, teasingly repeated. The woman knelt. Thumbs hooked beneath the waistband of her skirt, tugging it over her hips, down her legs, and away. Her panties followed, drawn in a single inch-savoring motion until nothing covered her. The woman’s mouth opened on her again, this time at the crease of her thigh, moving inward. She traced the outer fold with the flat of her tongue, then the tip parted slick, swollen lips, taking long, savoring tastes of the wetness that slicked the folds. Gentle suction pulled at her clit, the rhythm easing then quickening. Two fingers slid inside, pressing upward, curling with each deliberate stroke. She arched, the blindfold damp against her cheeks, thighs trembling, the room filled only with the wet sound of tongue and the quiet, wet pull of lips. The woman did not stop. Her fingers pumped in a measured rhythm, mouth unrelenting, until the orgasm hit deep, sharp, unstoppable, spreading heat through her belly, tightening around those skilled, patient fingers.