Friday, April 25, 2014

Snapshot: Instructions

There I was squatting back on my haunches on all fours, waiting, the lone light in the room bathing my back the only deviation to his request, but hopefully he wouldn't mind, not that I'd be able to tell his reaction when he walked in.

The black silk scarf, now around my eyes had been the second arrival of the morning, preceded by a simple note that had arrived only thirty minutes earlier: "I'll see you at 12:30 PM today. Instructions to follow. - B"

My questioning texts went unanswered though the read receipts noted that they had indeed been received. All I heard from him were via the short little notes sent with each package spaced exactly thirty minutes a part; "Tie this over your eyes" for the scarf, "Wear these in the position I love" for the black socks and black and red jockstrap, "Use this to get off and reuse cum for lube for me" for the small bottle of Astroglide, "Use this to prep and then to prop the door open" for the black dildo.

The last dispatch was simply a note "Now wait for me with the lights off."

My vibrating phone signaled 12:30 and then I heard the door open.

It's a different sensation having your eyes in a blindfold.  Even though it was pitch black behind the silk, my eyes darted back and forth and though I fought the urge, I no doubt turned just a tad.  He growled.

I knew that growl. It wasn't one of aggression, I hadn't made a slight; that growl was one of ownership.  He'd only made it on occasion before: the time that I took him shopping with me and upon emerging in a pair of shorts I deemed a bit too tight and short, found myself pushed back into the dressing room, shorts around my thighs being pressed against the mirror as he made quick work of a rim job and fuck before the attendant noticed. It was a good growl.

The first contact came after long minutes of nothing: no words, seemingly little movement. In those minutes I found that if I closed my eyes, my other senses perked. So I thought I could hear a barely audible rustling, maybe those were footsteps. But that definitely was his hand that grabbed hold of my waist.

"Leave it to you to get artistic," he growled. When I turned my head and opened my mouth to toss a smart remark over my shoulder he said simply "Don't."

"Today is all about me." The hand grip hardened a little and then I felt the thick thumb of his other hand tease and quickly sink into my ass. "Ah, this is nice and open." The thumb was gone but quickly - possibly aggressively so - replaced by a cock that went from resting at my hole to being buried inside. I reached behind me.

"Wait, what..."

"You know what" He had reached bottom and was pulling out already, smooth, non-stopping motions.

"Just don't-"

"I told you it's all about me." He said it with an aggression in his voice that oft wasn't used on me. His hips pivoted and I moaned. "You got a lot of cum up there boy."

**The title syntax comes from Bruce Chang's Another Cheatin' Top blog. **