Brian Ch 1 The Third Date Part 4

He backed towards the couch, taking me with him. He sat and then settled me on his lap, straddling his legs with my own. I felt him reach up to touch the blindfold gently over my eyes then both hands stretched towards the back intending to untie it. I lifted my hand and stopped him.

“No, please, let me keep it,” I asked.

“That’s what I want to talk to you about, love,” he said gently. “You surprised me, and I need to check in with you.” His hands hadn’t moved, and still gripped the knot at the back of my head. “What if I promised that you can have it back very soon,” he asked.

“Alright,” I said, resigned to his decision. “I’d like that.”

He deftly untied the knot and slowly I felt the silk fabric fall away from my face, my eyes still closed. It was dark when I opened them. When did he turn off the light? I blinked a few times, adjusting, and when I met his eyes I found him studying me. It was difficult to describe the look on his face, part concern, part curiosity, and all overlaid with deep desire. I smiled, my heart warmed at the sight of this beautiful man.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. I assumed he meant why didn’t I tell him that I liked to be blindfolded, that it turned me on. My hands rested in his open palms.

“Well it’s not the kind of thing I talk about on a first date,” I answered pertly, conveniently forgetting that this was, in fact, our third. “And I’ve never had anyone ask me before. It’s always been me asking a lover to blindfold me for sex.” I paused, dropping my gaze and staring at a point on his chest. His hair was nice and dark there. I collected my thoughts as he listened quietly. “I was delighted and surprised that you wanted to. And you looked so concerned about me,” I smiled and he gave me one in return, “it seemed very important to you and so I decided to go with it and to trust you. And that’s what you wanted, right? For me to trust you,” I finished questioningly.

“Yes, of course I did. It’s only,” he paused, his hands not completely relaxed but not yet grasping my wrists, “I didn’t expect you to respond the way you did. I’ve never had someone like it so much before.” I noticed his lower lip was trapped between his teeth, a sign of meaningful thought. His eyes darted back and forth between mine, willing me to understand. “My partners have always gone along with it to please me, knowing that I liked it, but never really enjoying it so much as you did in just those few minutes.” He looked a little hurt and I could see the memories passing through his mind reflected in his face.

“You did it for me too, didn’t you, because you wanted to please me. That’s why you didn’t tell me at first.” I nodded but stayed quiet. “But also for yourself, because you wanted to feel what it was like not to have to be the one to ask.” I smiled, pleased that he’d worked that one out.

“I would have, eventually,” I told him, “when I was more comfortable. Assuming we, err, made it that far.” I blushed slightly at this. 

“I think we’re going to make it that far,” he chuckled, grinning broadly as he pulled me to him. I reveled in the nearness of him. My denim skirt was almost up around my waist and I could feel the bulge of him through my underwear. I breathed in his scent, his hands on my bottom as he kissed me fiercely. I was wet, and I could smell my own arousal, so certainly he could too. His hands moved up into my hair and he grasped the bulk of it behind my head. I groaned in pleasure. He used his leverage to pull my mouth away from his and I resisted, enjoying the taste of him too much, but he won. He searched my face with a look of earnest.

“There’s so much I want to ask you,” he stated, “about your past, your experiences, your desires, and I want to know why. I want to know how it feels for you. I need to understand you,” he finished urgently.

“Of course,” I replied gently as he relaxed his hold on my hair and dropped his hands to embrace my own. “I can’t even describe what a joy it will be to talk about it with you, and how much I want that too.” His slightly worried look was back and I wondered what was going through his mind. I touched his face and leaned forward to kiss him lightly.

“But right now,” he said quietly as I was only an inch away, “It’s enough to know that you like the blindfold.”

“Yesss,” the sound escaped and my eyes closed automatically. His mouth closed over mine.

Brian Ch 1 The Third Date Part 3

I clasped my hands together behind my back, noticing that my breathing had increased. I felt so hot, so turned on by all of this. He voice was getting a little rougher and I thought he was too. He stepped close enough to me now that I could smell him. He smelled of clean, and of the faint aromas of our dinner, and deeper a musky scent of maleness touched with a bit of sweat. It was arousing, the natural smell of him.

He touched the left side of my face, cradling my chin in his hand, and I leaned into him palm. But he didn’t stay. He drew his hand down my throat, my chest, and lightly touched the tops of my breasts, his other hand rested on my hip. He moved around me, clockwise, touching me as he moved.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, “Do you feel safe?”

“Yes,” I nodded, “I do.” He was making his way from behind me coming around my left side, his hands still moving across my body, exploring.

“Sir,” he said. “Yes I do, Sir,” he repeated firmly. I got the message.

“Yes I do, Sir,” I swallowed, “I feel safe, thank you, Sir.”

He was in front of me now, his body almost touching mine. I wanted so badly to touch him, to run my hands over his chest, to draw him closer to me. He brushed my long hair off my neck then leaned down so he could kiss me there. His mouth was hot, wet, and I groaned leaning my head to the side to give him better access. His kisses trailed down my throat, then to the other side. His tongue darted across the exposed skin of the tops of my breasts. He unbuttoned the rest of my top and pushed it off my shoulders.

“Ahh,” I moaned, ”Please.” I don’t even remember forming the thought but I heard the word I had just spoken as if it came from someone else. His movements slowed, listening to me carefully. I struggled to find the words to articulate what I wanted.

“Please,” I started again. It was like he was enjoying my efforts, knowing he was distracting me with his touch.

“Please, Sir, let me touch you.” The words finally together in one sentence, I let my breath out completely. I needed to touch him, to know how he felt. I could sense him watching me. He’d left his hands on my body but he was no longer moving.

“Well,” I could hear the smirk in his voice, “since you asked so nicely, ok.”

“Oh, thank you, Sir.” I released my hands from behind my back letting my blouse fall to the ground and tentatively reached forward. He had pulled his own hands off my body but didn’t move away. I easily found his chest and placed both hands flat as if trying to touch as much of him as I could. I leaned my forehead into him, his scent stronger with the closeness, and I rested there for a few breaths.

He was patient and still, allowing me to explore his body with my hands. His chest felt firm, almost hard, and there was a little softness at his belly. My right hand moved slowly up towards his face. I could feel a roughness of stubble on the underside of his chin and followed it up the side of his cheek. My left hand found the opposite side of his face. Gently, my fingers explored his features. He must have taken his glasses off already because I didn’t find them. I did find his broad forehead, and felt the short wiry dark hair at his temples. My fingertips rested over his closed eyes, lingering for only a moment, then I continued down his nose and found his mouth slightly open.

I concluded my initial explorations by lowering my arms and wrapping them around his waist. I pressed my body to his as his arms enclosed me in an embrace. My hands settled on the firm, tight muscles of his bottom and I could feel, finally, his hard cock against my belly. I smiled to myself knowing he couldn’t see my expression because my face was buried in his chest. I knew my body was matching his, swollen, pulsing, and slippery wet.

My hands found his nipples through his shirt and I rubbed them gently feeling them tighten and harden. I located the buttons on his shirt, and after a little bit of fumbling I figured out how to undo them. I worked my way down, pulling his shirt out of his jeans so I could finish the buttons. I slid my hands over his bare chest feeling small, light hairs that I could only assume were as dark as the hair on his head. He wriggled out of his shirt and let it fall to the floor.

I was kissing his chest with more urgency now, lightly flicking my tongue over his nipple. He was indulging me, I knew, allowing me to do what felt good. As my hands found the waistband of his jeans, I turned my face up expecting his mouth on mine. Instead he grabbed my wrists, one in each hand, and stopped me.

“Not yet,” he groaned in need. “I want to talk with you first.”

Brian Ch 1 The Third Date Part 2

I wanted to ask so many questions, not the least of which was, “and then what?” I wanted to know why, I wanted to know his history, how he learned he was into blindfolds, did it turn him on? But wait, maybe he’s not into them like I am, maybe he wants to surprise me and this was his way of keeping a secret. But if I let him put a blindfold on me he’s going to figure out really quick that it did turn me on. All we’d done up until now was kissing and a little groping in the car before he dropped me off at home. This was definitely going to take things up several notches.

He was worried though, concerned about my reaction. This was important enough to him that he asked me face to face. He cared how I felt, what I thought of him and his desire. He wanted me to trust him. And he was still waiting for me to answer.

I nodded and croaked, “OK.” I cleared my throat.

“Yes,” I said, this time with more confidence, “I think I would like that,” I finished more shyly.

“Good,” he said with a quick nod.

He slid one large hand under both of mine and cradled my wrists with an open hand. His other reached out for my cheek. His eyes were warm and relaxed as he laid his hand against my face. I smiled and turned my mouth into his warm palm, closing my eyes with a sigh.

He stood up abruptly, stepped behind me, and placed a firm hand on my shoulder that I knew meant, stay. I heard him walk towards the back of the apartment where his bedroom was, even though I hadn’t yet been invited to visit his personal space.

He returned in less than a minute and stood behind the chair in which I was sitting. I felt his hands on my head touching my hair, his fingers pulling the long stray strands away from my face and tucking them behind my ears.

“I don’t want you to be afraid,” me murmured as he was petting my hair, “or worried. I’ll make sure you’re safe. And I’ll help you.”

“Now close your eyes, my love,” he said briskly. I did.

I felt a cool cloth cover my eyes. I thought that it must be silk it was so smooth, and it must be black too because the light from the candles was gone. He moved it gently to be sure it was in the right place, and then I felt the layers of fabric tighten around my head. He knotted it without fumbling and without losing any tension.

He’s done this before, I thought to myself, many times. I was impressed.

I relaxed a little tension that I didn’t know I was holding, and at the same time felt a different excitement start to build. My breath rate increased and a small moan escaped my lips. I was suddenly aware of my own arousal and I wondered if he was pleased. I hoped so.

He must have reseated himself facing me because I felt him again take both my hands in his own. He said nothing and I felt myself grow a little self-conscious. Was he staring at me? What was he doing, I wondered.

His left hand now held both my wrists. I could pull them away if I wanted to, but I think he was waiting to discover if I would let him be in control. I didn’t move my hands.

His right hand again went to my cheek and I could feel his warm breath on my face. He must be leaning in close, straddling my chair with his longer legs.

“So beautiful,” he murmured under his breath, more to himself than to me. I smiled in response knowing he was pleased.

I felt him touch the fabric of the blindfold and my breathing changed again, my mouth opened slightly. He ran his fingertips along the length of the folds across my face then back again. A single finger drew a line down my nose and touched my lips and rested there. I kissed the fleshy pad of his finger then tentatively touched it with the tip of my tongue. He responded with the slightest pressure and I knew I had his permission for more.

He groaned quietly as I opened my mouth and took his finger onto my tongue. I ran my tongue up the length and down the other side, then closed my warm mouth around his finger and sucked it gently.

I don’t think he realized that his hand had tightened around my wrists, focused as he was on my mouth.

He pulled his finger out of my mouth and drew wet lines with it on my lips. I wanted more but he wouldn’t let me have it again.

He reached his right hand behind my neck and suddenly pulled me to him, crushing his mouth over mine. His tongue probed, gently at first, but then deep and searchingly, exploring every small curve and hollow. I responded in kind, our mouths and tongues speaking for us of trust, arousal, need, and desire. I wanted to touch him, to wrap my arms around him to pull the rest of his body closer to mine. I wanted to feel every inch of him, but his left hand held my wrists firmly, turning me on even more.

Then just as suddenly he was gone. I heard him moving to my right into the living room. A few clicks and I figured out that he was putting on some music. As the opening chords began I heard what sounded like curtains being pulled. He was covering the big front picture window then, giving us privacy from the street.

“Please stand,” he said quietly, “and come with me.” He led me facing him, my left hand in his right, my right in his left, as he walked backwards toward the living room. I was grateful for my bare feet as they gave me a firmer sense of the floor beneath me. I felt the fringe of the area rug that was centered under the dining table, the cool hardness of the hardwood floor, and then the spongy softness of the wall-to-wall carpet. He stopped me in what I guessed was about the middle of the room and turned me until I faced the couch. I could hear the music coming from the speakers behind me, some sexy slow dance from the 50’s, I think maybe it was in the movie Dirty Dancing. He left me standing there, arms at my sides, and I heard a tiny creak as he sat on the couch. A click, and I guessed that he’d turned on the table lamp next to him.

Minutes passed and he said nothing. I could only assume that he was watching me. I heard nothing, but because of that I had to believe that he hadn’t moved from his seat on the couch. It made me a little nervous, and more than a bit uncomfortable. My hands seemed to need something to do. I wanted touch, sound, something, some sensation. I noticed that my hands seemed to act on their own, searching the air within a few inches, then slipping into the pockets of my denim skirt, then I touched my belly, my breasts, and with one hand on my chest I took a deep breath then attempted to relax.

“It looks like you need something for those hands to do,” he said unexpectedly, and I jumped a little. He was watching me, studying every movement. I could hear a smile in his voice. “Why don’t you unbutton your blouse,” he suggested.

I smiled back and started with the topmost button. One, two, and by the third he’d told me to stop. I knew he could see my bra now, and the tops of my full breasts. I could hear him coming toward me but he stopped at about arms length away.

“Now put them behind your back.”

Brian Ch 1 The Third Date Part 1

Brian

The Third Date 

Part 1

The ending credits were rolling and Brian retrieved his arm from around my shoulders. We’d been sitting on the couch enjoying The Princess Bride yet again, taking turns heckling the actors on the screen. It was one of the weird quirks we had in common. When we figured it out on our first date and we quickly decided that we would watch the film together.

It was Friday night and Brian’s housemate was tending bar until 2am so we knew we’d still have a good amount of time to ourselves. Since it was now only about 9:30, I did wonder what Brian had planned for the rest of the evening together. He leaned over and kissed me gently on the forehead then stood up. As he made his way toward the television screen to turn off the movie my eyes followed his firm bottom, admiring his looks all around.

He was of average height; about 5’10” and he wore his dark hair short and clean. He was muscular and solid but with a soft layer that looked like he might put on weight if he ever gave up his regular workouts. Small wire framed glasses completed his clean-cut look and gave the outward but well deserved look of intelligence. He’d shown me pictures of when his hair was long and shaggy, but it went with the bad boy image he spent hours consciously cultivating. Most striking were his bright hazel eyes, the sort that seemed to change color in different light.

In the dim living room his eyes seemed dark, almost green, as he turned away from the television and caught my eye. I could see a sparkle of reflection in his eyes from the streetlamps outside through the large picture window to my right. He seemed to be contemplating something. There was the tiniest crease between his eyebrows. He was fidgety, almost nervous, but with a sense of confidence in his movements. I smiled back at him with what I hoped was an expression of patience and reassurance. This might only be our third date, but I’d already learned that he would make a choice in his own good time.

That’s how he worked. He made the decisions about what we were going to do on our dates, the where and the when. He picked me up, opened the doors, and told me when to be ready for him. All I had to do was say yes. It was chivalrous and a little old fashioned but I liked it. I assumed that since he hadn’t told me his plans for the evening past dinner and the movie that he’d either not yet decided or had decided not to tell me. Based on how he was moving and glancing at me over his shoulder I chose to believe he knew what he wanted, but that for some reason he was unsure of his next move. Filled with curiosity, I studied his movements.

Instead of turning on any of the lights near the couch he moved into the adjoining dining room to relight the candles that I’d blown out after dinner. I’d cleared the dishes from our meal into the kitchen, but on the table were the wine glasses and the half full bottle of red. I followed him.

“Another glass?” he said, lifting the bottle and his eyebrows.

“Sure,” I smiled, and he poured two glasses.

He gestured toward the seat at the end of the table intending for me to follow his direction and seat myself upon it. He’d pulled it out from the table and turned it sideways. Still standing he handed me my glass of wine. I saw the corner of his mouth turn up with just a hint of a smirk as he settled his strong, square shoulders. He’d come to a decision then.

Brian picked up a second chair for himself and placed it facing mine. He sat close enough that he was able to trap both of my knees between his. I would have had to push my chair back or lift my leg up over his if I’d wanted to try to get away. Good thing I hadn’t the slightest desire to do that. I’d dressed casually for our date at his home tonight in a denim skirt, heels, which were long gone, and a light fitted cotton blouse. I wrapped my bare leg around his telling him with my body that I liked how close he was to me.

He waited until I’d had a sip of my wine before he took the glass from my hand and set it on the table, his own untouched. He cupped both my small hands within his own, not yet meeting my eye. He seemed to be examining my hands very closely, his thumbs rubbing mine gently but he wasn’t really looking at them. He appeared to be thinking hard, trying to decide what he wanted to say. I could see that he was absentmindedly trapping his lower lip between his teeth, a habit he never seemed to notice. I waited, giving him space.

His hands closed over mine firmly as he raised his head, hazel candlelit eyes meeting my deep brown ones. Although he searched my eyes as though to see inside my mind, his face held no trace of indecision or concern.

“I’d like to ask you something,” he started.

I gave him a small smile and an almost imperceptible nod, saying nothing.

“I want to blindfold you,” he stated.

I felt the sharp intake of breath and my hands jerked slightly in reflexive surprise. He relaxed the pressure of his legs on mine but not his hands. He held both my hands together in his even more firmly. His body language was gentle but certain, and touched with the smallest sense of urgency. My mouth opened involuntarily in response to the first few thoughts in my mind, but no words made it out. I closed it.

How could he know? I thought to myself. How could he have any idea that I liked blindfolds. He didn’t know, I realized. He was asking me because he wanted it. I searched his face and realized that he was concerned. He was watching me carefully to judge my reaction, thinking perhaps that I would panic or pull away, or look at him in confusion. I kept my face carefully still as my thoughts were whirling. Do I tell him? How do I explain?

I closed my eyes, relaxed my hands still held in his, and took a deep breath. I let out my breath completely. One side of my mouth turned up into half a grin as I opened my eyes and met his.

“That was not a question,” I said, smartly.

His entire body relaxed as though he’d been holding his breath. Maybe he had been.

“No, it wasn’t,” he chuckled, “but I’ll have an answer from you anyway.”

The Beginning

I developed a little bit of a crush on a client...he has no idea. My professional ethics keep me from saying or doing *anything* that might affect the relationship. I was inspired to write the first story after that experience. He was the model, but the story and the fantasy are mine alone.

I intend for this blog to be mostly a collection of fiction but I think I'll also post some personal stories and experiences if I feel inspired. I make no promises as to how often I'll update so check back as you like.

I'm queer, polyamorous, and into Leather and BDSM. I also have a fetish for blindfolds and enjoy blindsimming, so a most of the stories are going to have at least a blindfold, and usually sex.

I love feedback and I look forward to hearing from you if you enjoy my stories.