by Sandrine Lopez
What does darkness sound like?
You'd think it's silence... dead of night. Everyone asleep. Except it never is. There's always noise, no matter how distant. Trains fading in and out. Breathing up close. Sirens. Rustle of blankets. Footfalls.
I'm a creature of never-ending night. Of blacker-than-black darkness. And not just between setting sun and rising dawn.
He's back. I hear bags rustle before he enters the kitchen.
"Oooh," I sidle sensually along the wall towards him. "What you bought me?"
"It's a surprise." A bag rustles. "Turn around. Close your eyes."
Something touches my hair. Bands stretched over head until there's pressure around my eyes. I turn to him, open my eyes to blackness.
"What for?" I ask.
"Because your eyes always say, 'fuck me'. I want you to be innovative."
"Surely they don't?" I pause, then ask, "If my siren eyes are hidden, does that mean you don't want me any more?"
He takes my hand. I can tell by the number of steps and direction we're in the bedroom. Beside the bed, still unmade, where we fucked last night. The sheets must be strewn this way and that. Still heady with the lingering scent of us. Of sweat. His cum. Perfume of my wetness.
He's close behind. I can sense his warmth... no, heat... almost but not quite in contact.
Whisper in my ear. "Make me want you another way..."
I turn, know exactly where to feel. My waist level with his hips. Between them... my grip is accurate, intense. The stiffness of his cock through trousers and boxers. I relax, caress it. Let it burn in my palm even with insulating fabric.
"Better." he growls.
They say the way to a man's heart is via his stomach. I say it's lower. Fumbling with his garments until they fall away, and go down on him, quickly, greedily.
"Are your eyes saying 'fuck me' now?" I ask, before popping him in my mouth. Letting my tongue and lips have their wickedest of ways on hot, throbbing skin. Tasting his need to be penetrating me.
"Can't you tell?" he replies, before voice is lost to moans. Meaningless sounds of rapture. Of my tongue wrapping, lapping over his cock. Of lips pursed around the tip as I make him cum in gasping, shuddering spurts. Savour them on my taste buds before swallowing but not letting go. Milking him for a second, merciless blowjob, until his legs give and he collapses on the sheets with my mouth still surrounding him. Until he can't help but squirt almost painfully again.
Cum dribbling down my chin, I crawl up him. Share it in a sticky snog.
"Now tell me I only use my eyes... " I purr.
It takes minutes to get his breath back, so vigourous and sudden was his climax. Like a punch to his soul, while his jac was thrust hard and sweet in my throat.
"Too easy..." he murmurs. More rustling in his shopping bag of tricks. As I perch there wondering, another gadget is fixed around my jaw. Something not his dick in my mouth. A gag? I can't even ask...
"Try that again without your lips and tongue"
Bastard! I can't even call 'unfair'...
I'm on top, dressed. He still has his shirt on. I make to remove it. Then, as his arms are behind, bound within sleeves, I push him down so his wrists are pinned under his back.
The gag masks my dirty smile too...
I'm sitting on his dick, limp from two killer bjs but struggling under my twat to reblossom, harden for another round. My weight straps him to the mattress as I unbutton my blouse. Undo my skirt so I can pull it over my head until I'm just in my thong. I wish I could see his expression...
Leaning forward, I dunk my nipples to his mouth. He suckles them, making me sigh as his tongue caresses them to hard sensitivity, sparking through my body. Connecting hard with the lust in my belly.
Reaching back, I ease the thong to one side and settle back. I don't need to guide, as his rock rigid cock is bowed up ready. Sliding through me easily but with pressure enough to almost make me cum. By the time I sit up he's as deep in me as can be.
Gagged, I can't even ask if he surrenders, as my hips gyrate, spinning his cock pleasingly in my cunt. As my thighs tighten on his hips, keeping him in the vice of my lust.
Can't ask if, without eyes or mouth, my whole body screams 'fuck me'. Him trapped under me. Tweaking his nipples, running nails over trembling chest, dipping fingers in his mouth and letting him suck sensually on them, until my own rocking, swaying body has my fill of him.
Then it's my turn to collapse on him, satisfied.
Eventually I let him go, rolling off, letting his spent cock fall slippery from inside, more sweetly-scented wetness to sully our sheets. I hear him struggling to get up, unbind his arms. Shake the numbness from them.
Eventually, he ungags me to reveal a grin of enjoyment, but when the blindfold is removed, there is still darkness.
I've been blind for years. Never needed blindfolding but he needed to know if my unseeing eyes said more than 'fuck me'...
I guess they don't.
Fuck Me Friday: Smut for the Weekend by Aisling Weaver