Lately, Lena has been blindfolding you when you have sex. Or rather, she’s been blindfolding you when you give her head. That’s been your staple diet for a couple of months now, and accounts for about 80% of the sex you have. She likes it every day.
“It’s better when you can’t see me,’ she says. “When you can see me, you get all impatient and think you get to fuck me. But this isn’t about that. So put it on now and take your time.”
So, once again, the last thing you see is her smiling, expectant face before you slip the blindfold over your eyes and then find your way down to the small patch of scented hair that remains between her legs, and then a little way below that, the wetness begins.
She’s lying diagonally across the bed, and you are kneeling at the side of it. It’s dark, warm and comfortable, and pretty soon the world around you fades away and you start zoning in on that wet lick of skin leading up to her clitoris. It becomes your world. The only sounds are her moans. Then after about ten minutes she wraps her legs around you, has a quiet, squirming orgasm, and then makes to get up.
Normally she’d have three, but today she says, “I have to get up for a moment and go check something. Stay where you are. Don’t take the blindfold off.”
Obedience to that sort of instruction has become second nature by now, seeing as the results are always so sexy; so you don’t think to question what might be going on, and just wait there for a few moments until she re-enters the room and lies down again. “Begin”, she says, in a husky voice, and you get started.
Well, she must have done something out there, because she’s not nearly so wet as she was a moment ago, and you think maybe she dried herself off with a towel, but you can’t imagine why. But after a few moments she juices up like before, but the smell is different, sweeter and lighter than her normal salty wetness. Has she put some sort of new perfume down there? Maybe she’s trying to make it taste nicer by putting some sort of lotion on it, although you have never once complained about the taste.
The clincher comes when she starts moaning. Her voice has changed; it’s deeper, and she calls out much louder than quiet, sly Lena would ever do.
“Hey, I was enjoying that. Keep going.”
“Whuh..? Where’s Lena?”
“Downstairs watching TV. Something with Johnny Depp is on that she didn’t want to miss.”
“Oh…” You just sit there looking dumbfounded.
“Oh, man. I knew we should have tied you up,” she says, half to herself. “I would always tie my boyfriend up for something like this. But Lena said you were such a bimbo it wouldn’t be necessary. Anyway are you going to get started? I’m starting to cool down here.”