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Blind Memory

EDITORIAL FEATURES

Blind MemoryPulling into the car port I notice the yellow light glowing through the curtains of my apartment.

I left the light on, that's strange.

Climbing the stairs, arms weighted with the bags of the day, each step taller than the last, the bags heavier with each step up– I wished I had gotten my keys ready before I got out of the car. Arriving at my door, I begin fumbling for keys– trying not to disrupt the balance of the bags.

The door creaks open.

My mind blank and startled, then I see your eyes, gentle but scared too.
Stammering and explanation –

"I remembered where your spare keys were hidden."

Angry, I respond –

"You're not even supposed to be here."

Your hand comes up covering my words.

"Don't be like that, I brought you something."

Taking the bags from my hands, my weight lifted, a freedom– to run, to kick him in balls, to scream, to yell, to argue– the weight lifted to do all those things, but instead I submit and let myself be under control and you sense that and shift into that other man you can be.

"Wait here and don't move and keep your mouth shut for change, you little bitch."

The night is a warm, clear, beautiful one–we have our summer in September, yet a chill rushes across my skin, the thrill of the unknown, the anticipation sends these shivers through my body releasing them through my skin.

You return reaching for my hand, bringing me in, closing the door behind me. Once in,  your hand whispers the side of my face, your fingers push aside my perpetual strand of hair. Eye to eye. In your other hand you hold the black leather fur lined blindfold we had used so many times together in the past. Handing it to me. I know what to do, and I don't for once question that. Holding the mask to my eyes you place the elastic band over my head and into place.

Blind.

Guiding me by the hand into the living room, your lips so close to my ear–
"Take your top off, drop that skirt and get on your knees."

Of course,  I like where this is going, I love being on my knees, it usually means I am about to get some cock in my mouth, the thought of that begins to make my cunt throb. I unbutton the skirt and let it drop blindly stepping out of it.
You command–

"Get on your knees, now!"

On my knees I wait, it's soft, you laid down the fluffy blanket from the back of the couch across the floor. I begin the unbuttoning of my top. Feeling you standing above me, I can hear you breath, In my mind you are squeezing your cock over your pants, getting hard thinking about sliding past my lips. Your hand reaches down into my hair, yanking my neck back causing my mouth to gape open–

"There you go slut, mouth hanging open, such cock bitch. Now wait there and don't fucking move."

Your disappearance make me want to peek to see what you are doing– I feel a rush of anxiety flow through my body causing me to sweat, but I refrain from lifting the blindfold and let my mind release to the knowledge that I am eventually going to get to cum and that the anxiety is really a turn on.

I hear you in the background– walking, breathing, movement.

Now close to me again, I can feel the heat of your body and the feeling of limbs moving around me. The leg of your jeans brushes against my arm sending a bit of shiver to the hair on my skin. Again your hand grabs onto the mass of pulled back hair, causing my neck to crane and mouth to part involuntarily, yet so voluntary.

"Don't move, stay just like that and keep that mouth open."

More movement around me, I seem to be feeling more movement than just one man can make. My mind begins to swirl - Did he bring some other cock into my house? What the fuck? How many people are here? I want to rip the mask off my face, but I don't.

My mind continues its barrage of internal questions… Where the fuck did he find this cock, did he instruct him, did he pay him, did he send him naked pictures of me, did he tell him how much I love to suck cock, is it just one man, how many cock are here, FUCK fuck fuck, what the fuck should I do…
Still I refrain from removing the blindfold, knowing that my fear and anger will be met with a reward I have only ever fantasized about.

Within moments I feel you body, or some body next to mine. Strong thighs close to my shoulder– making my body jerk. I hear the heavy breath of man, my own breathing becomes heavy, unregulated and emanating from my cunt. Then I feel cock, I feel the tip– rubbing the drop of precum firmly across my cheek. A foot moves between my thigh and knees spreading them open further and allowing for more room and leverage to feed me that cock I want.

My hand reaches for the hard on before me, but from behind you command.

"No fucking hands. Lock them behind your back you low brow rouge bitch, that cock is not for your hands, open that mouth."

And that is when I know for sure this is not your cock on my cheek.

I love when you get authoritative, it's in there, but you don't let it surface too often, but when it does– It makes me love you even more, it makes me want to do anything you say, it makes me want to crawl and suck, and fuck any mans cock you want me to.

The smell of cock and precum is strongly apparent, his cock begins sliding into my eager open mouth, my tongue gliding along the back side of his shaft– forming around his throbbing girth– and I do what I do so well– I suck dick, eat cock, swallow every inch of this gift. He not only fucks my mouth, but rubs his cock all over my face, causing me to whimper and worship like the low brow slut I can be. My tongue reaching out of my mouth for cock when it's not there, sucking and twirling my tongue around it when it is.

You now stand in front of me, I can smell you, your cock. I know it's out, I know you are hard and I know you want me to take you in my mouth too.

In my ear you whisper,

"You like that cock don't you?"

The words make my cunt drip and throb. I must be squirming, one cock in my mouth, and you whispering in my ear. Your hand locks around my hair, pushing my head around this mystery meat you have brought me. I am being made to fuck and I like it.

"Slut, I bet your pussy is soaked."

Your fingers part my lips, flicking at my clit that is now hard and at the surface begging to be touched, then you dive deep inside me. I feel like I could just sit on your hand, be filled by it, swallow it with my cunt. I start to rock and grind. Abruptly your hand pulls out and strikes me across the face.

"Did I tell you to fuck my hand bitch? Slut dog, don't move."
The slap striking and burning, the cock still in my mouth, the sting on my cheeks make the moans slip out and make me fuck that cock with my mouth even more. My mouth earnest and true sliding and fucking his hard cock, wanting his cum.

I hear your breath– your excitement, your cock must  be a rock– it is in this moment I now I know you want me too, I know I have you.

"I want your cock, please."
I beg and plead.

Instead your fingers find me again. Slow for a moment, until they hit that spot that makes me pour and drip around your hand– then you fuck me, you hand strong and thrusting me over the edge. The cock continues to fill my mouth, his hands now pulling my head in around him. Those moans of mine fill the room, I don't care anymore about anything. Panting and groaning– if there wasn't a cock in my mouth I would be professing my need to cum. You pull a strong wet orgasm out of me, making my knees week. I feel like I am being held up by my hair from the man who continues to slide his dick into me.

"Are you ready to taste some cum, you little cum slut?"

I can only nod and a let my mouth drop open more as this strangers cock fills my mouth, I can feel his shaft jerk and bob. I regain some strength and maintain my stance on my knees and wrap my mouth solidly around him, feeling his cock jerking again inside me– I know I am about to feel his cum fill my mouth. I stay surrounding his shaft, his hands still around my head pull me in- we are melded as he fills me with his cum, pumping and draining into me.

I swallow, lick and clean this random cock I have no attachment to, still blind to.

You stand pulling your fingers, that I had not realized were still inside me, out. Rising– you instruct–
"Don't move, don't talk, just sit there."

I do as you say, I am in an amaurotic bliss. I hear you and he standing– no words are ever spoken. The door opens and the door shuts.

"Now it's my turn my little slut."

Republished with permission from Library Vixen. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us.


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