I gently lowered the blindfold

“Can you see?”


“Can you make out light and dark?”


I lifted her sheer t-shirt over her shoulders, over her head.  She instinctively lifted her arms to help.  I removed the camisole that remained.  Her breasts were round, freckled.  I kissed a nipple.  She flinched just a little.

I kissed her, first gently, then hard – pulling her head against mine, grabbing her ass with my other hand as I did.  I stopped.  She gasped.

I tugged on the elastic of her skirt – a sort of peasant cotton skirt, flouncy, patterned.  The elastic had lots of give.  I pulled it wide enough to lower it over her hips, brought it to the floor, around her ankles.  I did the same with her panties – a black thong.  I guided her steps over the pile of clothes at her feet.

Slowly, I lowered her to her knees.

She hadn’t yet seen or tasted or touched my cock.

I unbuttoned my jeans and slid my cock out, over my boxers, through the fly.  This wasn’t effortless.  She heard what I was doing, she heard how hard I was, how much my cock resisted being manipulated around.

She licked her lips.

I took half a step toward her.

She licked her lips again.

I drew my cock against her cheek, lightly grazing her freckles.  Now she could feel how hard I was, how much my cock was dying to be inside of her.

She turned her face, bringing her mouth closer to me.  I pulled back – not yet.

I reached down, to the back of her head.  I bunched her hair in my fist and increased the pressure on her head, pulling it toward me, toward me, now pressing her cheek against my cock.  She strained against the pressure of my hand, trying to turn toward my cock, but I wouldn’t let her.

“Please?” she said.

I dragged it along her lower lip.  Her mouth opened, inviting my cock in.  Her tongue emerged.  I touched it with the head.  Her tongue extended, her lower lip descended.  I withdrew again.

She moaned, just a little.

“Open your mouth?” I said.

She did.

“Show me your tongue.”

She did.

“Now don’t move….”

I rested my cock gently on her tongue, sliding it forward and back, relishing the texture of her tongue on my sensitive underside.

She looked like she was working hard.  “Do you want more?”

She nodded, slightly, and my cock followed her tongue as her head lifted up and down.

“Good girl,” I said.

I slid my cock slowly in, slowly past her teeth, toward the back of her mouth, and as I did, I pulled her head toward me, forcing my cock as deep as it would go.  She clenched her lips around my shaft, swirled her tongue underneath me.

At the same moment, we each let out a satisfied “mmmmmmmmm.”



  1. Blisteringly hot.  Vivid and detailed, and every word is put to good use.

    I love getting head when Jill is blindfolded.  For some reason, presumably the sensory deprivation, it is somehow more urgent.

      1. I love being deprived of that sense, to have the others heightened.  The loss of control. And the loss of any feeling of self-consciousness or embarrassment, I am free to just FEEL…

        ~Kazi xxx

        1. And so for you, the act of giving head is primarily about the feelings you have? (Because for me, part of what’s so incredibly hot about going down on a woman is the pleasure I give her. If I’m blindfolded, I want to be RECEIVING pleasure, not giving….)

          1. Whether I’m giving or receiving, the experience is heightened for me.  If I’m giving head to Sir, my body responds as well (and of course I’m enjoying what I’m doing).  Usually I am tightly bound when blindfolded and actions are performed on me though.

            ~Kazi xxx

          2. This is an area of great interest to me. Ultimately, I’d always rather be the recipient of a phenomenal blowjob than the GIVER of a great face-fuck.

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