He fitted the blindfold snuggly.  Its soft red material leaves me in velvety darkness.  His strong arms guide me across the room, and he turns me.  My filmy black negligee drops to the floor.  All I have on now is a black bustier.  It laces in the front and makes my breasts swell and pout and focuses attention on my pudenda with its strip of hair that leads the eye to the slit of desire.

He sits me on the bed, spins me around, pushing me down gently so that my head is at the bottom.  I can feel his hands slide down my arm.  He tightens the cuff securing my left wrist.  As he is doing that, I feel another pair of hands on me.  They tug at my right arm and loop another cuff around my right wrist.  And then, unmistakably a third set of hands spread my legs, opening the V and I feel each ankle stretched and pulled, held in a loop of soft rope.

I’m on my back, blindfolded, spreadeagled, dressed only in my wasp – and I feel nimble fingers fumble at the laces.  As each eyelet is pulled free, the soft tickle of ribbon accentuates my vulnerability.  The only sound is breathing, soft but gradually quickening.  There is subtle electricity in the air.  My body responds.  The small hairs rise: fight or flight?  The garment falls open and sensuous fingers are replaced by soft kisses.  A fourth person, a woman, is plying my sex with swift kisses, soft licks, and gentle sucks.  And she goes on, and on...

Then the faint, fabulous aroma of a man fully aroused fills my senses.  I can feel the warmth of his thighs as he stands near my head and then the firm smooth shape of his phallus as he pushes it between my lips.  My mouth opens and he slips in and slides his frenulum along my tongue until he is fully lodged.  He stills, and then moves a little back and forth, letting me lick the swollen head – I know it’s purple – I can taste how purple it is!

She, my wondrous pussy kisser, moves up my body.  Curling her tongue around each nipple in turn and pinching the wet crinkly teat as she kisses the base of my throat.  The suddenly abandoned space between my legs feels movement as first a finger, then something better, larger, more functional takes its place.  Someone, some man, is now positioned between my legs and he is turning my thighs upwards and outwards opening me like a flower.  There’ll be no resistance when he decides to sample my favours.  Someone else is holding my legs.  It is another man.  His hands are large and strong, and he is using my foot to titillate and massage his genitals. 

The man in my mouth takes his manhood out.  His soft balls settle on my mouth and nose as she, my kissing angel, takes him in her mouth.  I use my tongue to push and prod those testicles, touching his taint, moving his jewels that are moving on their own, anyway. 

There is a push, and my thighs are being pressed apart, a lover has pierced me, and the sac dangling over me tightens.  She moans, which rumbles through me triggering my own groans of pleasure that seem to ignite the penis in me to white-hot heat.  As I writhe, keeping him and his glorious seed in me, hands hold my legs down.  The massage has worked, I feel little spots of warm liquid spray up my leg.  And with a grunt, I know so well, he, the man whose balls I’ve been kissing, pulls out of her mouth and begins to spurt.  Two drops hit my breast before I capture the jetting liquid.  She kisses the sprayed breast, keeping it pristine and so sensitive. 

The quickened breathing slowly settles.  The cuffs are slipped off me and someone removes the red cloth covering my eyes.  We all look at each other, and I take her hand.  We kiss, and as our lips break apart, I say,” Now you!”