Date Night

It's a cold, windy February Friday night, the kind of cold that cuts through every stitch of clothing, no matter how bundled you are, and leaves you shivering uncontrollably. The only people out tonight after the business day is done are the lovers scurrying to dinner or the movies or maybe a club, their passion keeping them warm against the Arctic air blasting down from Canada. The wind howls outside the 23rd floor hotel window, the city skyline splayed out like glowing jewels with the flurries being whipped about in the frigid air, but inside the room is warm, softly lit and fragrant with flowers. Miles Davis plays softly, mixing with the wind to create a cozy sonic blanket, but the only thing I'm listening to is your excited breathing. You aren't admiring the view, but of course, being tied spread eagle to the bed and blindfolded as you are there's no way you can. It's a special night.

I first noticed you on Literotica several months ago on a message board, and politely started interacting with you before inviting you to join me in a private message. There was a bit of distance at first, and we never got too intimate. I never pushed, hoping that one day you would open up to a digital stranger whom you felt you could trust. That day eventually came, and you haltingly revealed that you needed to reach out past your stultifying suburban existence but your first steps had blown up in your face. In an effort to be friendly and flirty you had inadvertently given some guys the wrong impression, and the vultures circled. You were merely an outlet for their lust and passion, paying no attention to your wants or needs. Crude messages and unsolicited dick pics were being sent to you even after you had asked them to stop, leaving you shattered, feeling abused, and more alone than ever. More than once our PMs consisted of me trying to soothe you, to help you settle down, stating over and over that not every guy online is a filthy pig.

Much discussion followed over the next few months, messages going back and forth, with me slowly convincing you of my good intentions. We discussed our likes and dislikes, our fantasies, we exchanged photos, and we slowly came to the agreement that we should move this conversation, this relationship, from online to real life. More time went by as we chatted and negotiated, and eventually we found a mutually convenient time to meet in person.

I spend the better part of the week looking for a hotel room and making reservations at one of the best sushi restaurants in town. On the big day I prepare by going to the barber, getting a sharp haircut and shave and springing for my first manicure. I pack an overnight bag and thoroughly shower, and after a moment's deliberation take my trimmer and manscape my cock and balls so they too are presentable. The day drags painfully slowly. I check in to the hotel, order flowers, prepare the room and wait in the bar to settle myself with a Manhattan. Your train wouldn't be in until seven, and in that curious way we perceive time, the closer it gets to seven the slower the bar clock ticks and more than once I imagine the hands moving backward. I almost run out to hail a cab so I can pick you up, but I know you are meeting me here. I have to be patient.

At quarter past seven you enter the bar, face pink from the cold and your hair tousled by the wind, but to me you're lovely. I get up and wave and you come over, and we embrace fondly before settling into the booth. We chat like old friends even though we've never met in person and I order you a good stiff drink to warm up, your favorite, a vodka martini up with a twist, and I get myself a second Manhattan. We have some time to kill before dinner and we relax in each other's company, occasionally holding hands as we chat.

Dinner is excellent, the sushi every bit as good as the magazine review claimed. I don't ordinarily get hot sake, I prefer it room temperature or chilled, but the frigid night calls for it. The delicate, ornate cups, the beautiful bottle and the ritual of the repeated pours add a comfort to our evening, not so the alcohol but a feeling of closeness, a bond of trust slowly growing. The walk back to the hotel feels like we're flying, although I'm sure the wind at our backs certainly speeds things along. We cross the bustling lobby, people rushing to and fro, toward the elevator. We don't say a word, anticipating what is to come. As the door shuts our first kiss is tender, like two shy clumsy high school kids not quite knowing what to do. We embrace, and that feeling of body to body closeness opens a floodgate of passion as we begin to devour each other as the ding of the elevator announces our floor.

We almost run to our room and fumble with the key card to get in. We embrace and kiss once more, tongues wrestling with lust. I retrieve the bottle of champagne from the mini fridge and pop it open with a flourish and a minimum of mess and pour two flutes. We toast to the evening and put the glasses down. As if on a count of three we stand facing each other, then I embrace you tenderly. Your heart is pounding, I can feel it in my own chest. I smooth your hair and whisper sweet things in your ear. I then slide my hands down and find the bottom of your sweater and pull it up. You help me, holding your arms up over your head like a child would, and I slide the cashmere over your arms and head and gently toss it onto the chair. I walk around beside you, fingertips trailing along the naked skin of your back, and you shiver, although whether you're chilly or incredibly aroused is unknown at this point.

I find the zipper on the back of your skirt and undo it, then slide it over your hips. You do a cute little wriggle and it falls to the floor in a puddle around your feet. I hold out my hand and you take it so that you can step out without tripping. My hands slide over your shoulders to the clasp of your bra and I undo it, and you let it fall to the floor. I contemplate grabbing your breasts, knowing that's what you expect, but I fight the urge and leave them alone, your nipples poking out like twin pebbles.

Patience.

The next thing to go are your panties, a simple thong vainly covering your growing arousal. There is a slight wet spot showing and against my better judgment I reach out and run my finger over it and you shudder with pleasure. I put my hands on your hips and grab the strings of the thong and pull them down. Your pussy and ass hold onto the thong for a moment, then they give up and release the material. The thong falls to the floor and you are naked except for your boots. I bend down and tell you to balance, and you put your hand on my shoulder for support as I unzip the first boot and slide it off, and then the other. Done.

You now stand naked in a hotel room before a man you have only met in person a few hours ago. Your face betrays apprehension, excitement and lust. We have discussed this on multiple occasions and it is coming to pass. I smile at you, taking in your face and body. You smile back and let out a nervous giggle. I hand you your flute and we enjoy another sip of bubbly. I wrap my arms around you and you melt into me like a child. I feel your warmth and the smoothness of your skin, and the scent of your perfume mixed with your body chemistry creates a pheromone that I find irresistible. I find myself reluctant to release you but it is necessary. I take your hand and lead you to the bed.

You lay down and I arrange you as necessary in the center of the bed. You tremble and I see goosebumps, not because you are cold but because your excitement is overwhelming. You smile nervously and I kiss your forehead, and before you know it I've slipped the blindfold over your eyes. You giggle again like a naughty child, we've discussed this scenario so many times we've memorized it, and now it's really happening. I gently take your hand and stretch it toward the edge of the bed where I've prepared the cuffs, nothing crazy, and tie the Velcro around your wrist. I walk around the bed and repeat the process on your other hand. You're not bound uncomfortably but you don't have much slack. Your ankles are next, and when I am done you are perfectly spread eagle on the bed. You're not going anywhere.

I take a sip of champagne from the flute on the table. I lean over and kiss you, my tongue gently probing, and the champagne gently flows from my mouth into yours. You open your mouth wider to catch the cool, bubbly, twirling your hot tongue over mine. A small dribble flows down your cheek, but I manage to disengage with some difficulty from your kiss and lap it up with my tongue. A low, throaty moan escapes you and you try to embrace me, but in your excitement you've forgotten your situation. I kiss your cheek gently and return to your mouth, and our tongues wrestle like two snakes in combat.

I brush my hands all over you, fondling, tickling, pinching your elongated nipples and you moan softly. Your warmth on my skin radiates up into me and your perfume fills my nostrils as I lean across you. I feel my passion rising, my cock hardening, I want to have you... but not just yet. I am patient, at least for now. You purr, your anticipation rising, and you begin to thrash against your bonds, tossing your head and mewing in frustration. I begin nuzzling your breasts in earnest now, licking, kissing and rubbing my face across them. They are my delicious toys and for a short while tonight they are mine.

You arch your back at my touch, heaving with passion, pushing your breasts across my face, slowly feeding me, and I take my time. Your hips wriggle and grind on the mattress as you whimper. My mouth latches onto a nipple and sucks it in deeply as if I were trying to extract milk. As I nurse my hands begin moving downward, stroking your smooth belly, feeling the excitement fluttering within you. I reach lower, ever lower, brushing against the skin so lightly there is barely any connection, and your goosebumps return in earnest. I pause briefly to playfully explore the mysteries of your navel, swirling around the rim then ever so gently flicking in and out. I flatten my hand and rub in a wide circle, a bit harder now, and continue my descent as your breathing gets noticeably more ragged. My fingers graze ever so gently across your mound and your hips buck at my touch. You are as smooth as a baby, no stubble at all, and as I reach your entrance I can feel your juices pouring out onto the bed. I scoop up a bit and slowly rub my slick finger across your slit.

You writhe at my touch, opening your creamy thighs, inviting me to probe deeper. I slowly start kissing under your breasts and ribcage, licking and kissing, mouth moving lower, following my earlier movements. My tongue lingers in your navel for a while as my hands roam around and grasp your hips. I kiss your belly and grab the curve of your hip. I love this part of a woman's body, that sharp hardness surrounded by soft flesh. I stroke it softly and find that special spot that makes you convulse, and I smile as you writhe against the bonds, desperate for more.

I've ignored your special place until now. Your female aroma is filling the room now, combined with your perfume and the flowers, a primal smell. Your lips are plump and glistening, your lipstick smeared. It would be so easy to... but no.

Patience.

My fingers rap a gentle tattoo against your entrance, sliding over and teasing your lips, and then one finger slips in. You are gasping now, hips bucking as I slowly diddle you. Feeling cheeky, a second finger joins its mate inside you. I slide in and out, twirling my digits, stretching and relaxing your muscles. I pull all the way out, brushing your clit, then slip back in. Your moan fills the room, a far more sensual sound than the classic jazz in the background we've forgotten all about.

I have you squirming now, all worked up and unable to escape. I slide down your belly and slip my tongue inside you before you can react. You stiffen and another primal sound fills the air. I probe your pussy, slurping and kissing, and your hips are moving with a will of their own. Your clit is raging, practically a hard-on, and I gently give it a little suck. I grasp your hips, holding you tightly as I eat you into ecstasy. Noise escapes from you, not speech but not quite an animal growl. You spasm in a shuddering climax, back arching from the bed as if hit with an electric shock. You fall back, panting and sweating. You are in rapture.

But I'm not done with you yet.

It's time for me to have my fun.

As you lay there gasping I work my way back up your body with gentle brushes and kisses. I straddle your chest and look down, seeing your panting mouth. I lean forward, slowly rubbing the tip of my cock across your lips before sliding it in. Your tongue is like an octopus grabbing its prey, and you suck me with a gusto that surprises me. I enjoy your licking and sucking for a few minutes, sliding out until just the tip is in your mouth then thrusting back in. Your mouth is so hungry, so passionate, so intense that I feel the cum building. It would be so easy to just relax and let it happen, to cum in her mouth, it feels so good... I'm not here for a blowjob though. It takes all my self control to pull out with a cartoonish pop as you groan in disappointment.

I untie your legs and kneel over you, my cock throbbing and harder than it's ever been before. I take your legs and wrap them around me and I slide in. I almost come then and there from your scalding heat but with superhuman will I am somehow able to hold on. Your warmth and wetness lubricate my thrusts, and your Kegels grip me with surprising force, not wanting to let me go. I slide in and out, knowing that things can't last long. I try to maintain a consistent pace, but my animal side starts taking over and my thrusts get deeper and more powerful. Your legs are holding on to me and won't let go. Your moans fill the room. The hotel bed begins squeaking with my thrusts and I feel like I will drive you through the mattress and into the floor.

I'm pumping and pumping and oh god I can't.

I somehow manage to pull out and spray across your firm white belly, shooting practically up to your breasts. You are panting and heaving, totally disheveled, coated with cum and pussy juice and I lean over you trembling, barely able to hold myself up. This has been incredible.

As you lay in post-coital bliss, only semi conscious, I look down at your drippy pussy, our combined juices soaking the sheets. I lean over and lick it up all, lapping until the cum is gone and you twitch from the stimulation. I scootch up on the bed and kiss you again deeply, our tongues mixing the union of our juices. Going to the bathroom I take one of the plush face cloths and run it under hot water. I return to the bed and gently wipe you clean as one would a baby and then dry you with an enormous plush towel. I gently remove the blindfold and kiss your forehead and then remove the cuffs. I pull the blankets up over us. I lay on my back and you curl up into me. This has been a fantastic evening. We finish our champagne and snuggle off into a blissful sleep.