Fantasy or Real?
… I’m led naked into a room. I do not know who leads me as he has made me wear a blindfold. His voice is familiar but I am unable to place it. The blindfold is secure but not tight. I can still peek a bit out from underneath the bottom of the blindfold.
The room I’ve been guided into seems large and perhaps irregular in shape, nearly circular, maybe octagon. If I tilt my head back I might be able to see better but I know instinctively that would not be permitted. Through the tiny slit of vision afforded at the bottom of my blindfold I can see the floor is carpeted in a soft rose color. Matching throw pillows are s**ttered about the floor. Even the defused lighting seems to be of a soft red tint.
I am guided toward the middle of the room dodging the throw pillows. I'm very conscious of being naked and freshly shaved and oiled. Near one of the larger pillows I feel a hand on my shoulder, and then downward pressure. Strange in that it seems not to be a hand belonging to the man leading me. I submit and slowly kneel on the throw pillow. Another voice, unknown, tells me to get comfortable. Suddenly I know there are two men. I feel even more exposed, more anxious, more alert and more aroused. I submit to this new voice and maneuver myself so I am kneeling on the pillow.
Hands suddenly begin touching me, caressing my skin. At first, I can count the number of hands caressing me, but then they seem to increase and all melt together and I can’t possibly tell how many there are. I'm alarmed as there are definitely more than two men. But my skin tingles with ripples of sensations. I bite my lower lip in anxiety yet feel myself getting moist. If I concentrate I can just barely discern one sense of touch from the others. Fingers comb through my hair. A finger traces along my cheek and then explores my lips. The sensation is familiar and I relax, parting my lips and the finger slides between.
Other hands explore my neck, shoulders and back. Fingers travel up and down my skin, down to my bottom, sliding between my cheeks and underneath to the wetness between my legs, causing me to first gasp and then moan.
My nipples are hard and I can feel them being rolled underneath a palm. Someone lightly tweaks my left nipple and jolt of sensation shoots through me. I ache for someone to take them between their lips and lightly bite but no one does.
As suddenly as it started, the touching stops. I can still sense them around me, but no longer touching me. I try to determine how many hands I felt but realize I have no idea besides … many. In lieu of their touch, the only sensations left are a slight tingling and cooling of my skin and of a cooling wetness between my thighs. Yet another unknown voice whispers that my hands will remain unbound only if I touch nothing but myself. After a pause, the same voice whispers if I understand, and I nod, knowing I shouldn't speak. I know now there are three men, or are there? Were there more than three pairs of hands. So hard to tell.
I can feel the warmth of body heat directly in front of me. Something velvety, and then wet, touches my cheek. It is a very familiar touch. It lightly traces up along my cheek, over the bridge over my nose and then down along the other side of my face. With sudden need I turn my head toward it, my lips parting. A hand firmly grips the top of my head and turns me so that I am again facing straight forward. Not a word spoken but the message is clear.
The light tracing continues slowly and sensually. I can feel small wet trails along my cheeks, my jaw, even under my chin. The ache I felt earlier of wanting my nipples sucked has now turned into an ache of my own to suckle. With relief, the tracing travels toward my mouth and I can feel it tracing along my slightly parted lips. Slowly it traces along my upper lip, and then reverses along my bottom lip. I need to part my lips and taste, an overwhelming need, but I know not to be even slightly aggressive. The best I am able to enjoy is a quick lick of my lips when contact is broken for a moment. I moan as my tongue recognizes the taste of the slick wetness coating my lips, as my cheeks recognized the velvety skin earlier.
My right-hand drops between my legs, quickly searching. My fingers are not surprised. My clit leaps with a tingle as my index finger rubs it in a circular motion. Only a quick touch of my clit, and then my middle finger slides easily into my wetness.
The tracing sensation along my lips stops and pressure is felt between them. My lips part obediently and a perverse pleasure overwhelms me as it slides inside. Ohgodyes ... cock. My lips instinctively lock behind the ridge as the head fully enters my mouth, not wanting it to escape now it is where I need it. My tongue briefly explores, discovering little, yet pronounced, bumps lining the ridge of his cock. His cockhead is already swollen to the point the skin is stretched very tight, velvety yet hard.
A hand firmly grips the top of my head, limiting my movement. Then his cock slowly pushes deeper inside and begins to slide in and out. My cheeks hollow as I suck lightly. My tongue explores rapidly around his cockhead at the end of each out-stroke. The same familiar wet slickness begins to coat my tongue and I moan again.
My middle finger slides out of my wetness. Joining my index finger, they trap my swollen clit between them. My fingers begin massaging my trapped clit as they move in a firm tight rhythmic circle. A ripple of pleasure radiates.
For a moment, I remember there are two others in the room. Are they still here? What are they doing? My mind briefly escapes my body and I look down upon myself. Blindfolded, naked, two men watching as one man slides his cock in and out of my mouth, his hand still controlling my head. Do they see the enrapture I see upon my own face? Can they tell how I enjoy what they are making me do? Can they feel the pleasure within my body even as I feel the pleasure of the man using me, his urgency increasing with each thrust?
I feel deliciously helpless and controlled as he increases the speed of the thrusts of his cock, fucking my mouth. I can hear his breathing becoming ragged. My fingers match his pace as they continue to massage my clit in a circular motion. He begins going faster and faster, becoming slightly more aggressive, but knowing to stop just short of obstructing. I hear first his groan and then mine in response.
I feel him pulse between my lips then an erotic warmth floods my mouth. My senses overload and I'm aroused by his taste, his texture and his smell. Wantonly I swallow the sperm in my mouth, and I am not disappointed as his cock throbs and pulses and floods my mouth again.
I hear a chorus of moans from others around us, watching us. Are they just watching? Are they stroking? Are they waiting? Yet again my mouth is flooded and I swallow. The sensations are too much and my fingers carry me over the edge into orgasm. I now know the answer to my question. They are fully aware of how much I need it.
I nurse hungrily on his cock, drawing out the last bits of his nectar. His cock slides out of my mouth. I strain to capture his cock again. I desire, no need, to get that very last drop. My middle finger again slides into my wet center. My breathing is jagged; my body still racked by small convulsions as the taste and texture of semen permeates my senses.
Even as I slowly recover, I again feel another sensation along my lips, followed by slight pressure. Ohgodyes … my fingers return to my clit … as another cock slides inside my mouth.
… and as I wake, my last dreamlike thought … I heard a chorus of male moans ... many more than two ...
The room I’ve been guided into seems large and perhaps irregular in shape, nearly circular, maybe octagon. If I tilt my head back I might be able to see better but I know instinctively that would not be permitted. Through the tiny slit of vision afforded at the bottom of my blindfold I can see the floor is carpeted in a soft rose color. Matching throw pillows are s**ttered about the floor. Even the defused lighting seems to be of a soft red tint.
I am guided toward the middle of the room dodging the throw pillows. I'm very conscious of being naked and freshly shaved and oiled. Near one of the larger pillows I feel a hand on my shoulder, and then downward pressure. Strange in that it seems not to be a hand belonging to the man leading me. I submit and slowly kneel on the throw pillow. Another voice, unknown, tells me to get comfortable. Suddenly I know there are two men. I feel even more exposed, more anxious, more alert and more aroused. I submit to this new voice and maneuver myself so I am kneeling on the pillow.
Hands suddenly begin touching me, caressing my skin. At first, I can count the number of hands caressing me, but then they seem to increase and all melt together and I can’t possibly tell how many there are. I'm alarmed as there are definitely more than two men. But my skin tingles with ripples of sensations. I bite my lower lip in anxiety yet feel myself getting moist. If I concentrate I can just barely discern one sense of touch from the others. Fingers comb through my hair. A finger traces along my cheek and then explores my lips. The sensation is familiar and I relax, parting my lips and the finger slides between.
Other hands explore my neck, shoulders and back. Fingers travel up and down my skin, down to my bottom, sliding between my cheeks and underneath to the wetness between my legs, causing me to first gasp and then moan.
My nipples are hard and I can feel them being rolled underneath a palm. Someone lightly tweaks my left nipple and jolt of sensation shoots through me. I ache for someone to take them between their lips and lightly bite but no one does.
As suddenly as it started, the touching stops. I can still sense them around me, but no longer touching me. I try to determine how many hands I felt but realize I have no idea besides … many. In lieu of their touch, the only sensations left are a slight tingling and cooling of my skin and of a cooling wetness between my thighs. Yet another unknown voice whispers that my hands will remain unbound only if I touch nothing but myself. After a pause, the same voice whispers if I understand, and I nod, knowing I shouldn't speak. I know now there are three men, or are there? Were there more than three pairs of hands. So hard to tell.
I can feel the warmth of body heat directly in front of me. Something velvety, and then wet, touches my cheek. It is a very familiar touch. It lightly traces up along my cheek, over the bridge over my nose and then down along the other side of my face. With sudden need I turn my head toward it, my lips parting. A hand firmly grips the top of my head and turns me so that I am again facing straight forward. Not a word spoken but the message is clear.
The light tracing continues slowly and sensually. I can feel small wet trails along my cheeks, my jaw, even under my chin. The ache I felt earlier of wanting my nipples sucked has now turned into an ache of my own to suckle. With relief, the tracing travels toward my mouth and I can feel it tracing along my slightly parted lips. Slowly it traces along my upper lip, and then reverses along my bottom lip. I need to part my lips and taste, an overwhelming need, but I know not to be even slightly aggressive. The best I am able to enjoy is a quick lick of my lips when contact is broken for a moment. I moan as my tongue recognizes the taste of the slick wetness coating my lips, as my cheeks recognized the velvety skin earlier.
My right-hand drops between my legs, quickly searching. My fingers are not surprised. My clit leaps with a tingle as my index finger rubs it in a circular motion. Only a quick touch of my clit, and then my middle finger slides easily into my wetness.
The tracing sensation along my lips stops and pressure is felt between them. My lips part obediently and a perverse pleasure overwhelms me as it slides inside. Ohgodyes ... cock. My lips instinctively lock behind the ridge as the head fully enters my mouth, not wanting it to escape now it is where I need it. My tongue briefly explores, discovering little, yet pronounced, bumps lining the ridge of his cock. His cockhead is already swollen to the point the skin is stretched very tight, velvety yet hard.
A hand firmly grips the top of my head, limiting my movement. Then his cock slowly pushes deeper inside and begins to slide in and out. My cheeks hollow as I suck lightly. My tongue explores rapidly around his cockhead at the end of each out-stroke. The same familiar wet slickness begins to coat my tongue and I moan again.
My middle finger slides out of my wetness. Joining my index finger, they trap my swollen clit between them. My fingers begin massaging my trapped clit as they move in a firm tight rhythmic circle. A ripple of pleasure radiates.
For a moment, I remember there are two others in the room. Are they still here? What are they doing? My mind briefly escapes my body and I look down upon myself. Blindfolded, naked, two men watching as one man slides his cock in and out of my mouth, his hand still controlling my head. Do they see the enrapture I see upon my own face? Can they tell how I enjoy what they are making me do? Can they feel the pleasure within my body even as I feel the pleasure of the man using me, his urgency increasing with each thrust?
I feel deliciously helpless and controlled as he increases the speed of the thrusts of his cock, fucking my mouth. I can hear his breathing becoming ragged. My fingers match his pace as they continue to massage my clit in a circular motion. He begins going faster and faster, becoming slightly more aggressive, but knowing to stop just short of obstructing. I hear first his groan and then mine in response.
I feel him pulse between my lips then an erotic warmth floods my mouth. My senses overload and I'm aroused by his taste, his texture and his smell. Wantonly I swallow the sperm in my mouth, and I am not disappointed as his cock throbs and pulses and floods my mouth again.
I hear a chorus of moans from others around us, watching us. Are they just watching? Are they stroking? Are they waiting? Yet again my mouth is flooded and I swallow. The sensations are too much and my fingers carry me over the edge into orgasm. I now know the answer to my question. They are fully aware of how much I need it.
I nurse hungrily on his cock, drawing out the last bits of his nectar. His cock slides out of my mouth. I strain to capture his cock again. I desire, no need, to get that very last drop. My middle finger again slides into my wet center. My breathing is jagged; my body still racked by small convulsions as the taste and texture of semen permeates my senses.
Even as I slowly recover, I again feel another sensation along my lips, followed by slight pressure. Ohgodyes … my fingers return to my clit … as another cock slides inside my mouth.
… and as I wake, my last dreamlike thought … I heard a chorus of male moans ... many more than two ...
2 år sedan