This is for the Bare Your Sexual Soul Day. The challenge was to share a fantasy or a piece of fiction. This is non-fiction, but a fantasy come true for me. Enjoy.
I fumble through my box of scarves for just the right one, but give up and settle for a sleep mask. I put it on, adjust its tightness. The rule is I can’t see anything the entire time they’re here. I have 30 minutes until they arrive.
I get the blindfold just right, take a small sip of wine, and kneel in front of my fireplace facing the front door.
My heart pounds in my throat and fuck-music fills the vaulted ceilings. I sit, I lay down, I sit up on my knees again. My nerves are getting to me. Suddenly, I realize my dress can’t be easily removed without threatening the security of the mask, so I dash back to my closet and put on a dress that can be slipped down over my hips. I have on nothing else.
Two weeks before, Troy had said he’d wanted to get me a birthday present. This was it. He’d found a guy on AFF with a giant cock and who was willing to jump out of my proverbial birthday cake and fuck me while Troy watched. Troy would have normally joined in with his new bi-sexual friend, but his monogamous relationship forbade sexual contact with me. This was the best he could do.
Troy texts to say they are minutes away. I don’t know what Max looks like. I only know he passes muster with Troy. I slip the mask over my eyes and wait, trembling.
I hear a knock, and a low, male chuckle from Troy. My shaking is visible. He quickly closes the distance and embraces me. “Oh, Hy… you’re trembling!”
“Well, yeah,” I manage to squeak out. “Hi, Max,” I say to a presence in front of me.
“Hello, Hyacinth,” the man says in a heavy, unplaceable accent.
My senses are buzzing, my chest heaving, my cunt damp. I am the tinderbox, Max and Troy the matches.
I can feel Max move in front of me, hear his belt buckle and the slide of his jeans. Then his hands take mine and pull me up to my knees. The hot round knob of his cock butts against my cheek.
I sigh and take it in my hands, the shaft meaty and long, my fingers not quite encasing it. I open my mouth and flick my tongue on his salty aperture. Push further down on the pole and suckle. I’d closed my eyes in joy if I wasn’t already blinded.
Troy is next to me, touching me, stroking my breasts and massaging my neck. He loves watching me suck cock. I take in as much as I can and wish badly that I was watching him deepthroat this giant man instead. He is so brilliant at it.
I dip to the foreign man’s testicles, cleanly shaven, and nuzzle my nose into his groin. He presses into my face and exclaims at how good I am. Troy agrees. I swell with pride. I want so badly to please him. Our sexual life together might be dead, but this is something I can sink my teeth into.
I fantasize about a parade of men brought to my house by my ex-lover to fuck me anonymously while I am carefully watched over by his powerful 6’6″ frame.
Tears come to my eyes as my dress straps are pushed over my shoulders and pulled off over the large swells of my tits and hips. Max groans. Troy groans.
I stand helplessly alone and naked as Max pulls away from me and removes the rest of his clothing. Troy moves to a different vantage point.
Max kisses me deeply and his cologne swirls around me, sticky and sexual. His hands roam my body as Troy keeps up a steady commentary of how hot I am, how beautiful, how amazing. I bloom under the words and the physical ministrations.
Fingers enter me gently, part my soaking lips, and hook me like a fish. I hump forward on his hand and Max comes closer.
He’s short. Maybe 5’6″. I am putting together an image of him. He is densely muscled, with tightly curled hair on his body, like a black man might have; closely shaved head and face; full lips and a wide smile. He wears a heavy chain necklace.
He puts his hands on my shoulders and pushes me down. Troy gives him a condom. I lay naked and exposed on my floor peering into darkness, my hole a venerable beacon of light. He lays down on top of me and the cool metal of his necklace kisses my lips. Troy moves closer and takes my hand.
I feel a warm blunt object butt up against my opening and I gasp. Troy squeezes my hand and sucks in his breath. My pussy is the sole focus in the room, like a birth, only I am being impaled instead. The cock slides all the way into me and exhales are heard all around the room. The baby is ok. It’s done. We’re all ok. I am reborn.
He moves inside of me and I writhe and buck beneath him in half a dozen positions. I can’t believe what is happening to me. I am only a bundle of nerves, some arms, legs, a cunt, breasts, a mouth, moans, sweat, and cries. I am not Hyacinth. I am just there, enveloped in sex. I feel at home.
Max finishes with a pounding and cries out. Troy cheers us on from his spot out of the way, still holding my hand. I ask him to run into my room and grab my vibe.
I lay on the floor and spread my knees, lay my dress over my pubis. I put the head of the toy between my legs and start to whisper, “I was fucked by a stranger. While blindfolded. And I was watched. I was fucked by a stranger. While blindfolded. And I was watched. I was fucked by a stranger. While blindfolded. And I was watched.”
I repeat it ad nauseum as my orgasm grows. Troy’s voice joins mine, his hands stroke my inner thighs, but never come near my heat. Max mumbles in a foreign tongue and I jibber on as my crescendo breaks over me, huge, enlightening and powerful.
I cry out and cry, big, fat tears that roll out from under my mask. I gasp and pant and say I want more. I begin to chant again and the wave up is immeasurable, the orgasms breathtaking.
I am a fucking slut; a dirty, reckless whore and I love it.
I have gone against everything I have ever known, ever been taught, ever thought of myself, and I have given myself to a stranger on the word of a lover, a whimsical, fantastical gift, and it has been exquisite.
As I come over and over I tell myself I’d do it again because I am a colossal slut. No one is more awful, more slutty than me. No one more debauched and deserved of filthy, anonymous sex.
I revel in the outlandishness of my behavior. The pure bliss and dissolution of propriety. It is beautiful and raw and more pure than any courtship-like tryst I had ever experienced. It feels like freedom.
Troy’s voice breaks my revery, “Hy… Are you ok?” His voice is filled with concern. My view is still black and stunted, my sense only of myself.
“Yes. I am,” I breath, sinking into the floor further.
“Good. Because that was goddamned amazing.”
“Yeah, I know it was. And thank you, Max.”
“You’re welcome,” he trips out and leans over to kiss me.
Troy says, “Happy birthday, Hy. You deserve it.”
Then it’s all over and I am being helped up and into a robe.
Max gives me a quick hug and kiss goodbye. Troy bends down, hugs me tightly, kisses my neck and leaves with my birthday present in tow.