A Slow Hand and a Woman's Touch

When she finally turned in her seat to look at the woman, perhaps even kiss the woman, in an instant, the woman, along with her shoulder, her ear, and her hand were gone. Trying not to act as anxious and disappointed as she felt, casually turning to look one way and then the other, panicked that she lost an opportunity to find love, her secret, potential lover was gone without a trace. As if the woman was a Mongolian Monk, much in the way of blind Master Po in Kung Fu, no doubt, swallowed up within the dense crowd of women, she disappeared in thin air. She looked at the crowd trying to put a face to the voice, but there were just too many women.

Feeling as if she had imagined it all, was it not for the words she had whispered in her ear that now lingered in her mind and haunted her being, the feel of her hand on her ass was as if her touch never happened. Suddenly, feeling so alone, she felt lost. If only she had turned around sooner, she may have made a love connection. Perhaps, when she didn't acknowledge the woman whispering in her ear and putting a hand on her ass, the woman may have incorrectly assumed her disinterest. How could she be such a fool? Was must she play that same silly game of being better than everyone else? Sick to her stomach in the way she gets, when her cat, Miles, goes missing, what was she thinking not to respond?

With a hand firmly holding her ass, as if supporting her sadness and turning it to happiness, the woman had made her intention known. No doubt, feeling rejected by her aloofness, silly girl, Amanda didn't blame her for leaving. She wanted her and now losing her opportunity to meet someone to have sex with and, hopefully, to fall in love with, Amanda was saddened. As if she had just let go of her mother's hand in a crowd, she was panicked that she'd never see this woman again. No longer thinking of any other woman here but her, she only thought of that one woman, whoever she was. Not even knowing what she looked like, she'll never find her again. By not turning around to tell her that her perfume was intoxicating, by not telling her that she found her whiskey voice sexy and her words exciting, and by not telling her that she loved the feel of her hand on her ass, she had rejected the one that may have been the one. How could she be so stupid?

Wanting to cry, wanting to leave the club to get a breath of fresh, quiet air, hoping her mystery woman would keep sight of her and follow her out of the club, she finished the last sip of her drink and slid off the barstool, while trying to appear coolly desirable and terribly sexy. Hoping she was watching her, wishing she'd follow her, on her way out, thinking that every women she saw was the woman who whispered her lust in her ear, while knowing that none of them were, she was as heartbroken, as she imagined she'd be, if Miles suddenly died. Only, making her way through the dense crowd was worse than shopping at Macy's at Christmas time, worse than the crowd of a soccer game in Liverpool, when playing Manchester United, and worse than the crowd at a free Adele concert. As if the crowd was a wave at riptide that took her further out to sea, instead of closer to shore and closer to the door, the crowd was so thick that it pushed her along and away from the exit. She wanted to go one way but, as if this flow of humanity was a preprogrammed part of her destiny, the crowd forced to go another.

Unable to fight the crowd, deciding it was much easier to go with the flow with the thoughts that there may be a back entrance, not knowing where she was going, she followed the crowd down a long, dark corridor and into a pitch, black room that was so dark that she couldn't see her hand in front of her face. What is this place? Even after her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she still couldn't see anything. Even darker than in the haunted house tour she enjoyed taking at Halloween, much darker than in her bedroom at night with the shades and drapes drawn, as dark as if she was wearing a blindfold with a sack pulled tightly over her head, never has she been in a room as dark.

Away from the loud thundering beat of the music, except for the total darkness, this room was her salvation from the rest of the too busy and too noisy club. On the plus side, as if someone had turned down the volume, comparatively speaking, it was much quieter in the dark room. At least in here, she could think of that woman, whoever she was, leaning her warmth against her, whispering her sexy words in her ear, and holding her ass, as if she owned her. Still, as if standing there waiting for the lights to go on, after the power had gone out, being bumped and jostled with a random touch here and a groping hand there, too afraid to move and already feeling taken by her mystery woman to join in the touching fun, not knowing where she was, she waited to see what would happen next.

As excited as it was scary, had she been in this room with a crowd of men, instead of in a room with a crowd of woman, she may have been too frightened to stay. Definitely, she would have screamed her panic, until someone came to her rescue. If she was in the room with a bunch of men, she'd be afraid that someone would touch her, grope her, feel her, strip her, and force her to her knees to suck their cock. Instead, in a room with a bunch of woman, she relaxed to enjoy the moment of total darkness, along with the free feels of so many hands fondling her tits and feeling her ass. Somehow, as if it was all a surreal dream and she was floating through sexual space, with it being so darkly quiet, being one within the crowd was as comforting as she imagined astronauts feel, when in drifting through deep space.

"Are you aware that you're in the touching room?"

She found her. How did she find her in total darkness? As if her voice was plugged in her head, with just a husky whisper in her ear, there was that remarkably sexy voice again. As if she was an erotic disk jockey whispering her sexy dreams and desires on the radio, dripping with liquor spiked honey, her voice was pure erotica. Without even a touch, she felt the familiar, strong presence and smelled the intoxicating scent of her perfume. Having bought it for herself and rejecting it, she recognized it now as Donna Karen's Cashmere. What never smelled right on her smelled wonderful on this woman and she'd love to bury her nose deep within her naked moist folds of soft, wet skin, while lapping up all of her sweet juices. The woman was so close to her that she was surprised that she didn't step on her.

"Touching room? It's so dark, I didn't know where I was."

"I prefer the darkness," said the woman with a little laugh. "So much more revealing, when everyone else is on a level playing field but for me, all that I can't see in the light of day, I've learned to see in the dark of night."

"What's a touching room?"

Now willing to play her sexy game for fear that she'd leave again, but not knowing where to direct her question, unable to see, Amanda spoke, as if she was speaking to an Alien or to God. As soon as she asked her question, she felt the woman's magical hand on her breast and, even though the woman wasn't moving her hand and not fingering her nipple, wanting to be touched, her nipple responded and pushed against the palm of the woman's big hand. Just as with the mere touch of her ass, the mere touch of her breast made her feel so wanted, desired, sexy, and horny. Just as she didn't move her hand, when it was placed on her ass, the woman didn't move her hand now, when it was placed on her breast, even though Amanda wished she would.

So erotically sensual in her touch, Amanda wished the woman would fondle her breast, before fingering her nipple through her blouse and through her bra, while kissing her. She wished she'd put her other hand to her other breast and do the same. Without even knowing what the woman looked like, without even knowing her name, her bold touch was so very sensually erotic. With the total darkness of the room adding to her sensory deprivation of never knowing where and when she'd be touched, this phantom woman so excited her in more ways than when she was with her lover in the bright light of day. In the heightened desire she felt, if the woman unbuttoned her blouse and unhooked her front snapping bra and she wished she would, she'd let her touch her naked breasts and finger her nipples, before sucking them.

"With you never being here before, I want to be sure that you know the rules," she whispered so close to her ear that she thought the woman was going to stick her tongue in her ear and, when she didn't, she was disappointed that the woman didn't lick her ear.

"Rules? There's rules for touching?" Fruitlessly trying to act as calm and as cool as the women, rules or not, so wanting to be touched, Amanda tried her best to see through the darkness but she couldn't see any part of the her. "I don't know the rules," she said biting her lip with sexual anticipation. Afraid to ask, but wanting to show the woman that she was interested, she asked. "Will you tell me what they are?"

"Too boring to tell you what is allowed, I'd rather show you," she said gently squeezing her breast, before lightly and slowly circling her nipple with her fingertip. Immediately Amanda's nipple hardened. "Showing is so much more exciting than merely telling, don't you think?" Amanda felt the woman's hot breath in her ear, before she felt the woman's tongue exploring her ear deeper, as deep as she wanted her to explore her pussy with her tongue and fingers.

Oh, my God. Instantly, she felt a familiar warm, wetness between her legs. As if experiencing a sexual fantasy in a dream state, never had she felt so manipulated and controlled and she liked the feeling.

"You may show me, if you'd like," whispered Amanda with breathless trepidation, while figuring the woman was about to touch her in all the places she suddenly so wanted and needed to be touched. If only for the sake of showing her the rules, she couldn't wait for the woman to show her what was allowed and not allowed to do in the touching room.

"If I make you uncomfortable, just say so and I'll stop," whispered the woman breathing her words in her ear, again, in the same way that she did at the bar. "Have you noticed," she said running a slow finger down the length of her naked arm, "that the darkness in the room makes all of your senses heightened? After a while, once you get over your fear of the darkness, you won't need a light to feel and to see."

Then, the woman flicked out her tongue again and licked Amanda's ear deeper and, twirling it around, as if fingering her pussy with her tongue, she licked it longer and deeper. Something she never liked before, a wet tongue in her ear, especially when in the backseat of a car with a man, now so very aroused, she loved having her ear licked.

"Yes, I understand," said Amanda breathlessly, while quivering and quaking with sexual desire for the woman.

"Being touched under these circumstances, where you can't see the one touching you, but can hear, smell, feel, and taste the one touching you is much more of an intensely sensual and sexually erotic experience," she said whispering in her ear again to be heard over the loud music that played throughout the club, but that was muted in this dark, touching room. "Will you give me your permission to lick you?"

Lick me? Are you kidding me? She wants to lick me here and in public, albeit in the dark room? Oh, my God, I would so love to be licked by her. Thinking all of that, she didn't say any of that. Sure, she thought, you may lick me. Yours for the taking, you may do whatever you want with me. There's no way that I want to lose you again.

Amanda wanted to strip naked and scream yes. Already so very wet, she wanted to throw her arms around the woman's neck and French kiss her and touch her in all the places that she's been touching Amanda. She couldn't wait for the woman fell to her knees, lifted up her short skirt, pull down her bikini panties, and fingered her, while licking her pussy and rubbing her clit. Eat me, she wanted to scream. She couldn't wait to feel the woman's tongue lapping up her wetness. She couldn't wait to be so touched, fingered, and licked by a sexy stranger in the dark, touching room.

"Yes," said Amanda in a desperate but controlled voice, followed by the only words she was able to utter. "You may lick me."

I need to be licked, thought Amanda. I so want to be devoured by her tongue, while she fucks me with her fingers. Lick me, please, lick me. Stick your whole face in my pussy. Make me cum. I so need to cum. I can't wait to feel your mouth on my pussy. Eat me. Eat me. Eat me.

Then, as if Amanda was a giant lollipop or a scoop of vanilla ice cream perched atop of a cone, as if the woman was a dairy cow, from her jawbone to her temple, she slowly and carefully licked the side of Amanda's face.

"Mmm, you taste good," said the woman with a lusty, little laugh. "I can only imagine what the rest of you taste like."

"I can only imagine," said Amanda disappointed, while wiping the woman's saliva from the side of her face with the palm of her hand.

Even in a darkened room, feeling the hordes of other woman around her and never having had a sexual experience in such a public area, she was excited to continue playing this sensually sexual game. Wanting and hoping the woman would touch her, finger her, and lick her elsewhere, and not disappear in the crowd in the way that she did before, she waited with great expectation for the woman to whisper her words in her ear, before touching her again.

"Close your eyes," said the woman.

"Close my eyes? Why? I can't see with them open," said Amanda with a laugh.

"Close your eyes," said the woman again.

"What's your name? What do you look like? Tell me. I need to know."

As much as she wanted to know the woman's name and description, Amanda wanted to tell the woman her name, just in case, they were separated again. Filled with so many questions, she was eager to know everything about her potential, new, secret lover.

"Close your eyes," said the woman again, this time more forcefully.

"No. First tell me your name," said Amanda.

"Shh," said the woman. "Just relax and close your eyes," she said in a soft, sultry voice that made Amanda obey.

"I'm Amanda," she said, after having closed her eyes.

"I know who you are," said the woman with lightness to her voice.

"You do? How do you know who I am?"

"Shh. Close your eyes."

"Why should I close my eyes? I can't see anyway," said Amanda protesting again, but this time with a nervous laugh of sexual anticipation. Afraid to close her eyes for fear that she'd leave again, opening her eyes again, while trying to see something, but still unable to see anything, she waited for the woman to continue.

"Trust me, if you close your eyes the experience will be so much better," she said with her soft, sexy voice.

"Please don't leave," she said as if a little girl asking her mother not to leave for work.

"I won't leave," said the woman with the assurance of a gentle hand to the side of her face.

"I want you," said Amanda, when she tried to kiss her hand but missed.

"I want you, too, Amanda."

Somehow knowing that Amanda's eyes were still open, she lightly took her two fingers and closed Amanda's eyes, in the way that a mortician or a family member does, when someone has just died. As if the woman could see in the dark, it was amazing that the woman was able to close her eyelids without poking her in the eyes. Then, she ran two, light, slow fingers down the length of each of Amanda's arms.

"You're giving me goose bumps," said Amanda shivering with sexual delight, while rubbing her arms.

This time, Amanda obeyed her New York woman and kept her eyes closed. As soon as she closed her eyes, able to hear every sound and smell every scent, her senses heighted and, instead of feeling relaxed, her sexual anticipation increased and she felt even more anxious and horny.

Slowly, she turned Amanda around so that her back rested against the front of her. Amanda obeyed her direction, as if she was a model being manipulated by a fashion photographer. She felt the women's big breasts pressed against her back and she was glad that the woman was busty. With Amanda barely only having B cup breasts, eager to touch them, feel them, fondle them, caress them, and suck them, she preferred a woman with big tits and she loved having the woman's breasts pressed against her back in such a forceful way.

Using just one finger, as if sketching her to canvas, the woman proceeded to trace and outline every inch of Amanda's body. Alternating from very soft to very firm, as if receiving a slow sexual massage from a sex therapist, she had the most sensual yet responsively and suggestively demanding touch she had ever felt. Going with the flow, Amanda allowed the woman's free access to her body. As if she was a lifeless and willing puppet and the woman was her mistress puppeteer, never has she felt so vulnerably controlled. Wishing she knew the woman's name, the woman lifted Amanda's right arm and raised it above her head. Lightly and ever so slowly, making her hairs stand on edge, she touched her arm on the outside, before doing the same along the inside.

Expecting the woman to feel her breast through her blouse and finger her nipple through her bra, anticipating her touch, she stopped her hand just before reaching her breast. When she did that in that way, Amanda so wanted the woman to caress her breasts. As if cracking a pretend egg on the head of a sitting subject and ever so lightly running her hands over their hair, as if it's the egg flowing down, the sensation of the touch made her feel, as if her breast had been felt. Then, when the woman picked up her left arm and repeated the process, Amanda was quivering with sexual desire. So erotically sensual, the feeling of being so lightly and slightly touched was as sexual as it was sensual and as exciting as it was pleasurable. Never has Amanda experienced such sexuality without even having her breasts felt, her nipples sucked, her clit fingered, and her pussy licked. If she was this good with her clothes on, Amanda could only imagine the lover this woman would be in bed, when naked.

Then, she felt the woman's left arm around her waist. In a forceful, yet gentle way, she ever so slowly pulled her closer. She left just enough space between them so that she couldn't feel their bodies touching, only imagining that they were. Again, the sensation of touching, as if by static electricity, was sensually exciting and erotically arousing. Only, Amanda found herself wanting more from her than just the sensation. Not wanting to ruin the game by rushing the game, especially when not yet knowing all the rules, Amanda was at a loss as to how to play the game to continue. Should she reach out and touch her, feel her, hold her, and manipulate her in the way that the woman had touched, felt, held, and manipulated her? When she decided that she'd reach out to feel the woman's breast, it was as if the woman sensed Amanda wanting to touch her. As if even in the darkness she could somehow see Amanda's hand reaching for her, she stepped back just out of the reach of her fingertips, and held her hands behind her back.

"Oh, so this is all your show," said Amanda with frustration.

"How can you play the game," said the woman with a sexy laugh, "when I haven't finished showing you all the rules?"

Then, as if reading her mind, she stepped closer and took Amanda's hand and placed it on her breast. Immediately, Amanda could tell the woman had natural breasts and she preferred that over what some male plastic surgeons believed that a woman's breast should feel and look like. Holding her hand, she ever so slowly and gently outlined her nipple with Amanda's finger. No doubt, just as excited as was Amanda, her nipples were erect, too. Then, she returned the favor and traced Amanda's nipples with her fingertips. Never had Amanda felt such excitement by someone merely lightly touching her nipples through her clothes.