“Hey, about last night.”
She was just thinking about that when his message came through. They had been talking for some time and finally got a bit carried away over text.
It started so innocently and sweetly. The how is life treating you and how was your day, led to talking about the past a little, but both had decided to leave it there. There was no sense in talking about all the missteps and words they didn’t say before. All the missed opportunities. None of that mattered, really. They were supposed to be friends, right? That is how they left it, or at least she thought. She was actually clinging to that a little. She had sent a message a few days before, just talking about how she missed him and missed having him as her anchor.
She wasn’t expecting a message back. They sometimes got into that pattern of not actually talking to each other, and she just wanted to reach out and let him know she was there if he needed anything.
When the text came in last night, she was surprised, but grateful that at least she wasn’t making up a connection that wasn’t there. She sometimes struggles with that, thinking someone cares more than they do. It happens a lot in this sort of lifestyle when people want to get to know you but find you are the perfect sort to use when they are lonely, but not someone that they are really interested in or want to get to know on any deep level.
He had always seemed to care, and she liked that about him. It is a rare thing to find.
But at some point during their messages last night, the temperature and energy shifted. She had mentioned something about being disappointed she didn’t have him to direct her. He was always very good at that. Better than anyone she had been with before. There was a way about how he commanded her without taking himself too seriously. There was no narcissism or gaslighting like with other people she had been with. It was just a mutual need for him to take control.
And he always did. He had complete control, so much so that it made it hard when it ended. She tried not to mention the past too much, but there it was coming back to life so easily. Just a word or two, and he had her hungry, longing for something she didn’t want to name.
And then he said it, “How is my cunt.”
That is all it took for his cunt to react. Throbbing and wetness pooling, and that feeling of reaching out for him. His cunt knew it was empty and he should be the one to fill it.
It really didn’t take much coaxing for him to have her begging for something. Maybe she should resist, but it had been so long, and she needed him the way she always did.
That is what she was thinking about when his text came through today.
“Do me a favor. I want to play a little more with that energy we started last night. I want to do something a little different. First, find your blindfold. I want you to strip down to your panties and unlock your door. Then get on your knees and put on the blindfold.”
And there she was, blindfolded.
