erotica books by Desmond Blume

When I open the door you are sitting there, on your knees, in a black body stocking, hands behind your back, mouth open, blindfolded, waiting, like the good girl you like to be for me. I crouch down in front of you. You can’t see me watching you, full of desire, with a hard cock. I breathe harder to give away my presence. I want you to know where I am in the room. I want you to know I am right in front of you. I take my right hand and put it between your legs, not touching you yet, just moving towards the direction of your pussy. I graze the lips of your pussy with my index finger. Your jerk your body in surprise. I teased my fingers back and forth across the lips of your pussy. As I’m doing this, I notice the pace of your breathing increases. I place my mouth in front of yours, staring into your eyes behind the blindfold. I can see what you are thinking. I turn my head so that I can place my lips close to your open mouth. I start to graze my lips against your lips. They feel soft, like the horn of Miles Davis at the beginning of Concierto for Aranjuez. Finally, I press my mouth into yours. Our lips cushion together. I put my hand on the back of your head and kiss you. At the same time, I feel your pussy getting more wet. I start to swirl the wetness around your clit. I place my finger in between your pussy lips and almost push it inside of you. I can feel how much you want this as you press your hips forward. You want to get up from your knees but I push you back down.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I tell you.
After months of being in isolation due to the virus, we are still playing with each other. What started in a now closed down bar in Prenzlauer Berg has grown into deeper, intense, but mostly liberating pleasures between us. We know each other’s body more. We know each other’s desires now. We can let go and feel our dominant and submissive energies melding together in the sleepy suburbs of Berlin.
After I kiss you I watch you uncomfortably sitting on your knees, tilting forward. I remove my hand from between your legs. As I stand up, as your blindfolded face is directly in front of the hard cock inside my jeans, I am inclined to take it out and stick it in your open mouth. But I wait. I take my hand and I put it under your chin so that my fingers are on your right cheek and my thumb is on your left cheek. I gently move your face back and forth. I like this control over you. I like that you will not resist, or, if you do resist, you know I will be more forceful. I knew it would be this way when we first met, in the bar, when you drank a gin and tonic and I drank a mezcal Manhattan. It was only after one drink that I whispered exactly what I wanted to do to you. I wanted to push you against the wall, pin your hands above your head, kick your legs apart, brace you there, while my hand slid up, in between your legs, slowly but firmly. The group of girls next to us had no idea what deviances we were discussing and planning. You listened as my lips whispered these thoughts into your ear. The energy between us was electric. Each time I brushed your leg with my hand I could feel a spark of potential, a flirtation leading us to the bedroom. I pulled back and watched as my fantasy settled into your imagination. You were wordless. I took the last sip of my drink and then asked what you thought of my fantasy. Your grin was devious. I could tell that you were hesitant but wanting to follow my lead. You told me you liked it and I grinned. I knew then that we would be exploring later in the evening. I asked whether you wanted another drink. I was surprised when you told me you wouldn’t; you wanted to go somewhere private with me, right then.
Now, I turn your head from side to side with my hand. I tell you to stick your tongue out. This was an instruction you had been told before. I had told you to be waiting with your mouth open and your tongue out. You didn’t follow this small instruction. Such a simple thing to overlook. I make a note of this in my head. I will have to exploit this failure. Perhaps I will tease you longer than usual. Perhaps I will pinch and squeeze your nipples more than usual. I release your face and give you the next set of instructions.
“I am going to take a shower. As I do that, here is what you will do. Go into the living room. Lay on the edge of the couch, just as you were posed in the last picture you sent me. Do you know the one I’m talking about?”
“Yes,” you say. I disregard this. I like giving you specific instructions.
“It’s the one where you are laying across the arm of the couch. You are on your stomach. Your butt is in the air. Your legs are spread apart. I want you to be wearing the blindfold. Take your vibrator and put it between your legs. Get yourself to a level eight on the pleasure scale. I want you wet as fuck when I come back. When I get out of the shower and come over to you, I’m going to be hard. I’m going to stick my cock inside of you straight away. Got it?”

“Yes,” you say again.
I enter the bathroom and take a shower. As the water runs over me, I lather myself with soap and I feel my cock already hard as I imagine what you are doing in just the other room. I towel myself off and take an extra moment, just to make you pleasure yourself for longer. I exit the bathroom. I can see into the living room from the hallway and I watch you, draped across the arm of the couch, vibrating yourself, waiting for me. The body stocking makes you incredibly more sexy. The curve of your ass in the air almost kills me. I’m even harder than I thought I could be. I walk up behind you quietly, I want to surprise you. But you already know I’m there. Because of the blindfold you’re listening to everything. Every sound. I take my hand and I drag it across your ass. I slap it and then I slap it again. I ask you where you are on the pleasure scale and you tell me you are at an eight and a half. I like this. I feel between your legs and between the lips of your pussy. You are wet and ready for me…

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