The blindfolded taste of lust-1

His eyes can’t see a thing. His complete body is submerged in darkness, the same pitch black from where the odd faint noise gently bursts into distant echoes; footsteps in the kitchen, glasses clinging, the door opening? Closing? She had told him to undress, very kindly she had said it, almost with a smirk, and fully clothed, she had watched him first take off his shirt, then unbutton his pants, pull them down. It was night outside; he had felt naked. His bare body and the beginning of an involuntary erection. “Very nice” she said, “now put this on and get on the bed”. He took the eye mask without protesting, he put it on, and the first layer of darkness set in. When he laid on the bed, he felt her hands grab his left wrist, then he felt something, rope? Yes, rope. And one arm was bound. Then the other. The bed shook a little, but his skin wasn’t feeling any contact. How badly he wanted it to though. He wanted to be touched all over, a mouth could come and lick his chest, take his nipple, his thigh, suck on his waxed balls. A hand could grab his cock. And how well he felt his now full erection, a tight throbbing at the centre of his body.