desperate to knead his balls. He groans in unison with my touch.
‘You still like it like this, after all these years?’ I inquire.
‘Some things never change.’
I lower myself to my knees, continue fondling his balls while firming my grip on the base of his penis and ever so gently dart my tongue back and forth on his tip, eliciting a slick of salty juice that casually cascades over his rim, and pause. His hands have caressed my hair until this point; now he firmly holds my head — for balance? From need? I steady myself with my palms gripping his firm, muscled buttocks and I continue to tease, taking a little more of him in my mouth, stroke by stroke. My tongue loses its focus and becomes hungry for him. My mouth is all-encompassing, his length teases the back of my throat and I readily welcome him in, his smooth, hard cock filling my mouth as I take him deeper and deeper.
I love doing this to him and I can’t deny the burning flame it ignites between my thighs as I continue to suck, now long, deep and strong. Jeremy groans loudly and I know he is close, nearly there. I ease off a little, playing, revelling in his need for me, before thrusting him wholly into the back of my throat and wrapping my lips around his base. I feel the throbbing before the explosion that almost comes into my mouth. At the last second, I pull my mouth away, still maintaining my grip on his balls. He convulses at his climax, while his liquid must be landing somewhere over my shoulder. I remain kneeling until he recovers and returns to reality and lightly kiss his tip before standing, licking the remaining residue. His breathing is heavy, uneven.
‘Why do you always pull out at the last minute? I would love you to swallow.’
‘You know I don’t like it.’
‘Have you ever tried?’
‘Not exactly, and I’m not planning to.’
‘So it’s not just me.’
‘No, not just you, Jeremy. It’s just not something I do.’
‘But it feels so unbelievable when you do everything else. It would be heaven if you swallowed.’ Ah, here is an opportunity; I wonder whether he is willing to negotiate.
‘Would you give me my vision back, if I said I’d swallow?’ I tease.
‘Ah, as tempting as that would be … well, let’s just say I’m loving you blind.’
‘Well, here we have an impasse,’ I conclude.
He kisses my mouth, long and deep as his hand creeps underneath my dress, finding and fondling my inner lips. His fingers begin to explore, to probe. I sigh, ensuring my hands are entwined around his neck, trying to resist the temptation to join him.
His fingers continue their magic and my legs loosen their grip and stability on the rooftop. ‘You will take me wholly and completely that way one day,’ he states with confidence.
‘We’ll have to see about that,’ I retort while sighing, attempting to stay upright.
‘Indeed we will.’ He laughs, as he eases his fingers from their mission and once again scoops me off my feet and carries me back to the room.
My dress is discarded before I register its removal and his fingers resume their conquest with greater intensity than where they left off on the rooftop. Jeremy’s skill and precision is even more highly tuned than I recollect. Every shred of concentration leaves my mind and my moans echo within the silence of the room. As my brain has exhausted itself in its attempts to grasp the reality of the past few hours, my body greedily embraces the physical experience on offer. Eventually, I fall asleep, warmly snuggling into Jeremy’s embrace. A deep, calm, strangely gratifying sleep.
***
There is a strange sensation on my feet. I try to push it away, dream it away, but it is like an itch I can’t get rid of. What is it? Someone? Something? I roll over trying to ignore whatever it is but this persistent tinkering with my feet is relentless.
Damn it, it’s still there … a finger?
No, too hard.
A brush? No.
A feather perhaps? Possibly.
These silly thoughts are making me lose my slumber. It is still dark so no need to wake up yet. I try kicking it away this time, ah yes, that works. I settle back into the gorgeous softness of the bed, crisp sheets and feathery pillow. Although, very different from my own. The thought makes my mind consider where I am. No, I think, as weird memories flood my mind, it must have been a really, really bizarre dream … My hand reaches out, wondering whether I will confirm a presence on the bed next to me. Nothing. No one. I have no idea how long I have been sleeping when suddenly it hits me. Where I am and who I’m with.
Reality strikes. I try to prise open my eyes, momentarily forgetting my current situation and hesitate before touching the blindfold, the memory of the same action from last night and the repercussions that followed preventing me from doing so. This was no dream and from what I understand, for me at least, it will be dark both night and day.
The persistent aggravation at my feet recommences, meandering its way past my ankles, along my lower leg, and toward my knee. A very ticklish spot for me, it has always been intolerable to be tickled there. I sit up, fully alert.
‘Hello there.’ Jeremy’s voice. Definitely not a dream.
I laugh nervously. ‘Hello there. How long have I been asleep?’
‘You ask a question in the first seconds of waking up. Be a good girl for me, Alex. No questions. Please just lie back down and keep quiet.’
I obey. I don’t want to argue. I feel the sheet being whisked off the bed, as I lie there, exposed, naked. The feathers continue their journey, making me squirm as they tease their way past my bellybutton to my nipples. I don’t need to see them to know how instantly they respond to this ticklish touch.
‘My body betrays me so easily,’ I whisper almost to myself.
‘It always has; when will you start listening to it?’
I ponder the question.
‘Please raise your arms above your head and keep them there.’ I do what I am told, his direct instructions for some reason becoming easier to follow as my mind flitters off on other tangents. The feathers play with my arms, my face, my neck. Being blindfolded, naked, and having feathers gently and carefully caressing my body without any idea as to where they could land is like nothing I have ever experienced. Their lightness is like butterflies fluttering in a gentle breeze, barely touching my skin, and the ever-so-mild sensation they deliver on contact sends shivers and goosebumps all over my body.
‘Please part your legs,’ Jeremy orders politely. Whether it is years of defensive or protective sexual behaviour I’m not sure, but these words immediately cause my legs to press firmly together and my hands lower themselves from above my head to cover my pubis.
‘Interesting …’ Jeremy murmurs. The feathers stop their crusade and nothing else is said. I can feel him waiting for my next reaction. My arms slowly return to their original position above my head.
Continued silence. My vulva pulses with so much anticipation I am scared to part my legs in case the throbbing looks as obvious to him as it feels to me. As if it wouldn’t be, I reprimand myself.
‘I’ll ask one more time, please open your legs.’
I sigh, embarrassed but enormously aroused. I slowly inch my thighs apart.
‘Further, please.’ His voice is adamant. God, he really has to make a point of things. I bend my knees as I open wider for him, the throbbing within me deepening with anticipation. I try not to move as the tickling recommences, but it is exceptionally difficult. I begin to wriggle and squirm, attempting to anticipate his next focus point on my body. An impossible task, but I manage to maintain my overall position as best I can. The tickling is insistent, teasing, yet so light, almost caressing, but not quite. My body yearns for more, longing for Jeremy’s touch. In all this time