The blindfolded taste of lust-1
“Now you can wait here”, she said.
She was never like this. He heard footsteps leave the room, and then nothing. Silence. It is hard to say how much time passed as he laid there. Blindness and desire both have a way of distorting time. His thoughts went crazy at all the possibilities. He had secret desires that came up, fantasies. Secret might not be the right word, since he told them to his wife, in part, he shared some of them, he even acted upon them with her once in a while. But something is always held back, for protection, or simply for fantasy’s sake.
For instance, this one time they had spent the night out drinking. This was before they had k**s, a few years back. The entire walk back home they had talked about this girl he had apparently flirted on, or was it that he glanced at her too much for her liking? The whole walk home had been something like “do you find her pretty? Would you fuck her? No, not even that, would you let her suck your cock if she asked, no, she begged you to?” It had been a blurry jealous rant. When they got home, both completely frozen by the winter cold, she poured two glasses of grappa and rolled a joint. She hadn’t let go of this girl, even though she probably didn’t even remember who she was, what she looked like and what she did. She was just jealous, d***k and angry, but the hash was kicking in and the intoxication was becoming complete. He took the joint from her hand, smoked some more. They hadn’t even finished their glass of grappa when she got up and went to the bedroom. “Come” she said, walking loosely towards the bedroom. He did. She was undressing. On the drawer, she looked for an elastic to tie her hair. “Get on the bed.” The memory is blurred, this was in their old apartment, but he remembers her sucking on his cock with all she had, she had spat on it, had taken it deep, jerked it, she had begged for his cum with the unbridled desire of complete intoxication and he was able to take it with all the alcohol he had drank, he wasn’t constrained by the imminence of an orgasm. She was moaning, loving the cock, letting him know it more than she usually did. His head was hanging in dark emptiness and all he could feel, miles away it seemed, was her fucking his cock with her mouth. “Fill my fucking mouth” she said “fill it with your cum”. And he could picture it when she said it, like in a video his cock releasing string after string of cum in her mouth, and how badly he wanted to be her at that moment. How badly he wanted to be sucking on a cock and have his mouth filled with thick, warm, creamy cum. Taste the semen. Have a man’s orgasm in his mouth, and swallow it. Feel it linger in the back of his throat. This is the stuff he never told her.
