Seduction (6 page)

“Baby,” I purred, writhing on my leather couch, sticking my tits out and spreading my legs, “let me see you. Please. You know how turned on I get when I can see you.”

What Jamie did next happened so suddenly I didn’t have time to react. He leaped up onto the sofa, straddled me, and, pulling my arms above my head, used my own stockings to tie me to the chrome arm. I was pinned down by the bondage and the weight of his body across my chest. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, and a pulse between my legs started to beat as fast as my fluttering heart. The last thing I saw was Jamie reaching over to the blue paper bag he’d brought with him and pulling out an eye mask. He held it up so I could see it, red, padded silk with a black lining, before fastening it tightly around my head. I couldn’t see a damn thing, and I was still too shocked to speak.

Robbed of my sight, I immediately felt my other senses heighten. I was aware of the soft denim of Jamie’s jeans on my belly where he was straddling me, of the weight of his solid body pressed into mine, and then, as Jamie leaned his face down toward mine, of his warm breath on my breast, collarbone, near my ear.

“You’re so hung up on what you can see,” he whispered in a low rasp that made me shiver, “that you’ve forgotten how horny your other senses can make you. I’m going to take you on a sensory journey tonight that will blow your mind and have your pussy begging for mercy.”

Although his words aroused me, I was angry with Jamie, too. How dare he deprive me of my favorite part of making love to him? I opened my mouth to tell him off as he leaped off my body and used my other stocking to bind my feet to the other end of the sofa.

“Let me go! Jamie, what the fuck?” I shouted.

“No,” he replied. As I struggled, I felt more aware of my body than I ever had. I felt the dampness beginning to form between my glowing skin and the leather of the sofa. My hair trailed over my shoulders, caressing my décolleté. I was intensely aware of the warmth of Jamie’s body, the searing heat he radiated. Jamie’s scent, the sexy smell of his hair, carried over in the warm air, and I inhaled it as if it were a drug, an aphrodisiac.

I heard him walk to the kitchen. Trying to break free, I thrashed my head about in an attempt to dislodge the blindfold, but the more I struggled, the tighter my bonds became. And the more helpless I felt, the more aroused I became. Every inch of my skin was on red alert, waiting to respond to Jamie’s touch. I heard clinking noises from the kitchen and the sound of the refrigerator opening and closing. What was he doing in there?

When he returned, I found out. “Your first sensory experience,” he announced, “will involve taste and smell.” As he knelt down next to me, I felt his warm, masculine presence and smelled the sharp, sugary tang of fresh fruit, which proved to be that of a strawberry that Jamie placed between my lips. I closed my lips around the succulent fruit and savored its exotic and exciting taste, as though I’d never eaten one before. Then Jamie placed another strawberry on my wet pussy lips and inserted it partway into my slit. It felt like the tip of Jamie’s dick when he was prizing me open, preparing to thrust into me. The teasing, ticklish presence of the strawberry was sweet agony, which only served to remind me just how much I wanted him inside me.

He twisted the red berry to and fro, rotating it in my opening, before he whipped it away from my pussy and passed it under my nose. I could smell my own personal fragrance mixed with the sweet smell of the fruit.

“This is how you smell and taste,” he said. “Your pussy is sweeter than any fruit.”

I heard him eat the fruit and pictured the dark pink juices staining his soft lips. When he bent down to kiss me, I could taste myself and the fruit, and also something earthy, something basic, an indescribable taste that was the essence of Jamie himself. Our kisses grew more urgent as he lay on top of me, and the sounds of zippers and fumbling denim told me that finally Jamie was going to get naked, like me. If I couldn’t see him, feeling his body on mine would be the next best thing. I felt soft cotton brush my face as he lifted his T-shirt over his head, and then he pressed his lean hips into mine as he wriggled out of his jeans. He was naked now, his body skimming mine, his expanding dick lying against my thigh.

“I wish I could see you,” I wailed, frustrated.

“But you always look at me. This is the only way I get to look at you. I’m looking at you now,” he said, his voice low and punctuated by deep breaths. “Your long legs, which you spread for me. I adore the freckles you have on your collarbone. Your pillowy tits, which I love so much.” As Jamie described each erogenous zone, my skin sang with pleasure as though he were touching me with hands, not words. Beneath my blindfold, the world was black, but Jamie’s descriptions were so detailed that, for the first time, I thought about my body, not his, and it was the sexiest thing ever. “Your tits are just the right size. I can fit one in each hand,” he said, and put his hands over my breasts. I sighed with pleasure. “I love the fact that your nipples are pink and not brown like mine.” He continued talking in that sexy, rumbling voice, trailing a hand down my breasts, over my belly, past my bush, and finally using a thumb and forefinger to part my pussy lips and expose my clit. “I love the fact that you’re pink down here, too. I adore the way you shave your whole pussy, so that I can see the skin below. I love the shape of your cunt, your soft labia, and I love your clit. It’s so tiny and pretty. Best of all I love to lick it and rub it and play with it until I make you come. And when you do come, I love what happens to your face. You go all pink and pretty, and you look so soft and sweet.”

There was the sound of more rustling as Jamie pulled something else from the dark blue paper bag that had contained the blindfold. I heard a click and then a whir, the unmistakable sound of a vibrator being switched on. My clit throbbed in anticipation. Before I met Jamie, I was addicted to my vibrator, but I hadn’t used it since I met him. As he placed the soft, buzzing rubber against my nipples, I realized how much I’d missed using sex toys—I guess that Jamie had become my plaything. I felt my nipples respond to the vibrations, growing harder and bigger until the stimulation was almost too intense and I begged Jamie to stop.

“Oh, I wish you could see your tits now,” he said. “Your nipples are dark pink and swollen. They look like rosebuds, they’re beautiful . . .” and then his soft wet mouth was on my breast, his tongue and lips soothing the tingling skin.

He worked his way down the length of my body with the vibrator, swirling it around on my inner arms and my belly before holding it still on my inner thighs, where it was close enough to my clit to make it thrum and throb but not close enough to give me the intense stimulation I needed to get me off. He ran the vibrator along my pussy lips, probing my slit with the tip of the toy, slowly inserting it so that I cried out with pleasure. He removed it equally slowly, parted my thighs a little farther, and placed the vibrator against my asshole. I’d never been touched there before, not even by my beautiful Jamie, let alone with a vibrator, and the feeling was so intense that I let out a strange, feral yowl of desire.

“I think you’re ready for me,” announced Jamie, and, leaving the vibrator buzzing against my ass, he speared me with his dick. Every hair on his rich, luxuriant bush tickled and teased the bare skin on my own pudenda, and the base of his cock finally gave my clit the friction I’d been craving all along. I could smell my pussy juices mingling with his primal scent, my perception of it heightened in my blindfolded state. He pounded away, each thrust intensified by the vibrator probing and teasing my ass, as I felt the first unmistakable pre-orgasmic contractions ripple through my body. It was going to be huge, I thought: the strongest, most amazing orgasm I’d ever had. I let my flesh go limp in anticipation of my climax, but Jamie stopped suddenly.

“I’m going to untie you now,” he said, “but only if you promise to keep the blindfold on.” I nodded my assent; I was so desperate for an orgasm I’d have agreed to keep the blindfold on for the rest of my life if he would only allow me to come in the next few minutes. Jamie tugged at the stockings that bound me to the sofa more urgently than when he’d tied me up, obviously as eager as I was to resume fucking, to chase that climax. The blood pumped back into my newly freed hands and feet, sending a tingling numbness along my limbs. Jamie placed his hands around my waist—why had I never noticed before how large his hands were, how dry and papery and soft they felt against my skin? He flipped my yearning body over so that I was on all fours.

With his hairy knee between my smooth thighs again, he parted my legs, used his fingers to find my hole, and pulled apart my quivering cunt before poking it with the tip of his dick. He was inside me then, fucking me eagerly from behind, with one hand on my hips to steady me and his smooth long dick probing the entire length of my dripping pussy. With his free hand, he placed the vibrator directly on my clitoris, and I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. The limbs that had been numb now flooded with feeling as the tension crept up and then erupted as I came. My pussy contracted and released in four or five hot, intense waves, my cunt clutching at Jamie’s dick. I remained blindfolded and crouched on all fours as tiny spasms gripped my pelvis, the aftershock of my climax. Jamie whipped his dick out and came into the air, his warm, white liquid raining down on my ass.

He used strong, flat hands to massage his juice into the small of my back. Then, with his thumb, Jamie followed a tiny dribble that ran down the crack between my butt cheeks, making tiny circles and rubbing his spunk into my asshole, creating a sensation that left me breathless.

As I lay there in the darkness, it occurred to me that I’d been so turned on by the way Jamie tasted, smelled, sounded, and felt, that I hadn’t thought about what he looked like the whole time we’d been fucking. I felt a new respect for my beautiful lover, who had proved with his passion and imagination that he was more, so much more, than a pretty face. I felt tender, deft fingers untying the blindfold that I had been wearing. I realized it had grown dark outside while we were fucking. I blinked for a few seconds, my eyes adapting to the soft light that came from the dying embers of the fire. When I rolled over to face Jamie, I could only vaguely make out the contours of his body, silhouetted by the glow. The details of his physique that drove me crazy—the line of hair between his navel and his dick, the color of his nipples, the veins on his arms, the dimple on his left cheek—none of these were visible. I didn’t mind a bit.

“Want me to put the light on, baby?” he asked as he ran a finger from my breast to my thigh. I could barely see him, but to me he had never looked more beautiful.

RUMBLE IN THE JUNGLE

I looked around the walls of my mud hut on a nature reserve in the middle of the Indian jungle and thought to myself: How did I end up here? When my friend Sarah suggested a different kind of vacation, I jumped at the chance to do something other than the usual swimming pool and tropical tiki-bar shtick. In the brochure, this health-kick holiday in the wild had seemed like a great idea: yoga every morning, herbal tea, vegetarian food, and long-distance hikes through lush countryside. I had visions of emerging as a thin, spiritual creature, unburdened by Western values and ideas of beauty. I had looked forward to traditional Indian beauty treatments to leave my skin glowing and to returning home tanned, blissed out, and serene. And of course I had hopes of making an amazing sexual connection with some bronzed, toned, dreadlocked gap-year student who would make soft, tender love to me on the shores of the Arabian Sea. Well, what’s the point of being a single girl on vacation if you don’t enjoy every facet of your freedom?

All those visions were cruelly shattered when Sarah canceled on me at the last minute because of a work assignment she simply couldn’t get out of. I toyed with the idea of staying at home, but I’d paid for this trip, so I traveled alone, still buoyed by a sense of adventure and anticipation. The reality of it was that I was sleeping under a smelly mosquito net in a crude mud hut, surrounded by aging hippies who routinely tried to outdo each other with extreme travel stories.

“Of course, this is just a mild weekend,” said a bare-footed guy with a scraggly gray beard and sagging pot-belly. “The real hard-core ones are the kind where you go to an ashram and live off only juice. You get a really clear head after the first few days. It’s very spiritual.”

The only person my age was David, and frankly he was even worse than the old hippies. An outward-bound instructor from the West Country, he was convinced he knew everything about anything, and his arrogance pissed me off from day one. He also thought he had a great body, which he insisted on displaying at every possible opportunity—we couldn’t pass a waterfall without David suggesting an impromptu group shower. I suppose that he was good-looking, if tall, ripped, mus cled guys with strong, smooth, brown bodies without an inch of fat are your thing. And if you go for strong jaws, melting hazel eyes, and soft waves of light brown hair, well, David might be your type. However, even had he looked like Brad Pitt, his awful, know-it-all, patronizing personality still would have turned my stomach.

Of course, as I was the only single woman under forty there, David made a beeline for me. He didn’t understand my reluctance to sit around the campfire every night listening to him carry on about mountains he’d climbed and rapids he’d ridden. I started off by giving him the polite cold shoulder, but after day two I was openly snapping at him. Mild irritation gradually turned into an unsettling feeling that I couldn’t shake. Every night as I got ready for bed, I cursed Sarah for leaving me alone with these people in the middle of nowhere. I found David so intensely annoying that he was the last thing I thought about before I slept. And when he crept into my dreams, explicit erotic dreams that made me wake bathed in sweat, throbbing between the legs and clutching the bedclothes, well, I just took it as a sign that he was such an irritating asshole that he could even creep into my sleep uninvited.