A New Hairdo and More

The world went dark.

She knotted the blindfold securely behind her own head and settled in for what she already knew would be the worst part.

The waiting.

Sophie had played it all out countless times in her head already. The idea had hit her as she sat down in the salon chair. It had been ages since she'd treated herself to a new hairstyle. The long straight strands hung nearly to her waist, black streaks that hung flatly over her shoulders or blew haphazardly in the wind.

She didn't hate it. And indeed, Felix was quick to remind her how much he liked such long locks. But the new curls would give it some body and bulk that she sorely wanted. The salon girls had set to their task and Sophie's mind turned to what would come next.

There was no doubt in her mind what would happen when her man got home from work. It would be the same thing that happened when she modeled a new dress for him. Or tried on a bikini. Or walked through the house in a towel.

With so much time to kill before her hair was ready, though, Sophie realized she could up the ante. She started by texting him sweet nothings. "I love to hear your voice near me." "I want to nibble at your ear." "Your breath on my neck makes my body tingle." She did her best to escalate it only slowly, to torture him with anticipation.

Unsurprisingly, all the dirty thoughts had the same effect on her.

It made the salon appointment stretch out for years, but she knew the payoff would be worth it.

Preparations at home were much quicker, but she wanted the presentation to be perfect. The lights low and candles lit, the fireplace crackling, the furniture pushed back making her the unambiguous centerpiece.

But now, the waiting.

Whether it was 30 seconds or 30 minutes, all the build-up turned it into an eternity of nothing but blindfolded darkness and anticipation.

Radiation from the fireplace licked her body. But rather than drawing sweat, it only raised goosebumps. What will he choose to do to me? What is the first thing I will feel?

Individual hairs traced tiny paths across her bare skin with each rise and fall of her chest. She could feel the renewed beauty in those hairs. It's still the same me but it's also new and I love it.

Every sound pricked her ears, but the one she needed most was also the most terrifying when it came.

The key slipped into the lock. Sophie couldn't breathe. The tumbler turned. Shivers ran down her body. The door creaked open. Every nerve was primed.

Felix did not say a word as his eyes fell on her. Mere meters away, on the spacious floor, knelt his woman. A cloth covered her eyes, but her lips were inviting.

Voluminous raven curls hid her bare breasts. Hints of her silky-smooth skin flashed here and there as her shivers caused those curls to bounce. Below, covering her shapely legs and spread in a circle about her like that of a christmas tree was her soft maroon skirt. Felix was intimately familiar with the treasures hidden beneath it, but the pressure in his loins indicated how wonderful it was each time he rediscovered them.

Sophie could hear him latch the door, set down his briefcase, unknot his tie. He was near, perhaps mere inches away. The electricity from her body reflected off his as if giving her an extra sense. She wanted to reach out, to grab him and demand the satisfaction she craved. But she waited, hands folded before her, drowning in the anticipation.

The newly altered hair delighted his eyes. It gave her an air of renewed elegance, as if improving on perfection. He watched her thin shoulders again shudder, knowing those round breasts were doing the same behind their raven curtains. Her thick lips, darkened to the same deep color as her skirt, hung open, inviting him. Waiting.

Sophie's breaths came ragged. She felt him so close, smelled his bare skin. God, she needed him.

It touched her lips only barely, and she instinctively wrapped her waiting lips around it.

But it was not what she expected. A pang of unexpected disappointment rang through her mind at discovering only a thumb in her mouth. Nevertheless, Sophie sucked it deeply, as if willing it to grow.

Sophie knew how much her man loved her lips around his cock. The fact that it was not in her mouth already meant he was scheming. And that sent yet another shiver down her spine that escaped as a muffled moan.

Felix paced slowly around her, his feet tracing the circumference of her skirt. As he withdrew his thumb from between her lips he swept the lustrous hair from her right side as well, revealing one plump, rounded breast, its peak now achingly stiff and calling out for attention. He admired the sight as he inspected her from all angles.

She remained in that position, kneeling deferentially, motionless but for the rise and fall of her breath and the shivers of anticipation. His partner, his friend, his treasure, his whore. Felix knew that, in this moment, she would gleefully do anything he asked of her.

The tingle in her nerves followed her man's slow circumnavigation. Sophie knew she looked attractive right now -- she'd spent the day ensuring exactly that. She knew his eyes were drinking in all they saw. If his pants were still on, she was certain they were feeling a strain.

He returned to the position in front of her. With her sense of sight blocked, Sophie's instincts again parted her lips, waiting, breathless. Again, he surprised her. He knelt and took her soft hands into his.

"My sweet thing..." They were the first words either of them had spoken since he arrived, "You have been plotting and planning all day, haven't you?"

Sophie nodded. Her thick hair slid lightly across her chest as she moved.

"You made great schemes in your mind about what I would do to you?"

She squirmed, her glutes contracting and relaxing, rocking her hips lightly in his direction.

"And it has made your hole a soaking wet mess below that skirt?"

Sophie discovered she could not speak. Only a whimpering moan escaped her throat.

"My, what a dirty little thing you've been today." He was manipulating her hands now.

"But I love that about you. You look and sound and move like a princess, but deep down, you are my own little slut. Exactly as you should be."

He pulled the knot tight about her wrists. Whether with his tie or something else, he had bound her hands together before she'd even realized what happened.

The binding lifted her hands as he stood. Sophie had chosen to blind herself for the evening, and now her man had stolen her hands as well. Even as he forced her to stand and move, the helplessness exhilarated her. Sophie could feel the radiation grow stronger. They were nearing the fireplace.

Her knees touched the heavy ottoman. Instinctively, she raised her legs to kneel upon it.

"No," he said. "Be my good little slut and straddle it." Her man's voice was soft but commanding. She followed his order.

No sooner had her feet touched the ground than her bound hands were also yanked down. He tied that binding off to something in front of her and set about tying her ankles to the ottoman's stubby legs too.

Sophie realized her chin hung just off one edge while her vulva, dripping but still covered by the skirt, was thrust out over the opposite edge. The spread of her legs was not comfortable, but she hardly noticed. In her prostrate position she was able to do nothing. Nothing but shiver with anticipation for his next move.

But he made her wait.

She heard little scufflings about the room, the rumple of discarded clothing, the heavy breaths that she knew from experience indicated his lust. Every time he seemed to come closer, her arousal would pique. And then he would move away, frustrating her again. Quite unbidden, a whine escaped her lips.

In her mind's eye, Felix stood above her, his sexy core muscles taut, his member rigid, defying gravity in response to her beauty. Surely, he would soon push it down her throat or lift her skirt to shove it between her other waiting lips. He would grip her hair, bite her flesh, ravage her like a wild animal. Sophie knew exactly how forceful and turbulent his lust could become and she had been aching to receive him all day.

What she felt instead could hardly have come as more of a shock.

She excused it as another involuntary trick of the nerve endings at first. But then it continued. The slightest tickle at her neck, just below her hairline. And it moved. Down her spine, crisscrossing over her skin, disappearing and reappearing to tickle her sides or the small of her back.

Felix moved around his prize while he tickled her. The feather danced lightly but purposefully. Her restrained body jumped and jolted. Goosebumps stood out paradoxically in the hot firelight. Ragged gasps and whimpers escaped her throat.

Felix's anatomy stood at full attention, his tip glistening in anticipation of what was to come. He bent just enough...

The touch of his tip was fleeting, but Sophie's brain spiked with the understanding.

The characteristic texture, the sticky droplet that remained on her skin. Such a cursory tap from such a familiar organ shouldn't have an outsized impact on her mind -- it was only a minor touch on her back -- but she nevertheless let out a lustful gust. Her man's cock, her favorite toy, was right there, but she couldn't reach out for it. Again, he forced her to wait.

Felix was careful to be irregular with those extra touches. A rib, an arm, a shoulder blade. More important was to continue moving, to keep her guessing. His feather danced about her skin, free to explore to the edge of his arms' reach. Her back arched alluringly, cute ass still hidden beneath maroon fabric. He longed to raise the skirt and attack his woman directly, but he too could force himself to wait.

"Are you burning under that skirt, my sweet?"

She answered merely with a whining breath and a nod.

"Is my little slut's hole open and dripping?"

Her body shook.

"Are you ready for the next step?"

Her breaths were short, desperate. The thought of her man lifting that thin skirt and thrusting himself into her body was all-consuming. Her mind and cunt alike screamed for the intrusion, begged for the connection, pleaded for--

The shriek that escaped her lips was sudden, but it was not what she had anticipated. The hot pinprick on her skin came out of nowhere, but did not spread. It burned, then cooled.

Again -- heat, shriek, relaxation. It repeated across her back and downward toward her pelvis. Sophie couldn't remember the last time they'd played with hot wax. Just like the feather, it took her by surprise. And, just like the tickles, the light pain from each drop only served to heighten her arousal. She wondered if it was possible to pass out from anticipation alone.

Felix paused and squatted before her, his hardened shaft mere centimeters from her nose. He knew she could smell his musk. Her ragged breathing beckoned to him.

He allowed another drop of wax to fall, just below her neck. She yelped again.

"You're a dirty girl," Felix intoned at last. "Does the pain make you excited?"

Her whimpers were much louder now, more insistent.

"Do you want me to stop?"

Her head shook before she even understood the words.

"What is it you want, girl?" His hand pulled her beautiful curls away from her face.

That touch, at long last, seemed to return Sophie's voice to her lips. "I want you to make me your whore..."

Felix's own groan was animalistic. "Good girl."

He tightened his hold on her hair and drove his aching erection into her mouth.

Sophie's throat accepted him eagerly, immensely satisfied to finally have her man inside her body. She groaned each time he withdrew and licked at his heavy balls when he thrust.

As on edge as he had been throughout the foreplay, Felix strained to maintain control. He continued to drip tiny smatterings of wax onto her skin, reveling in the response her tight throat gave him each time.

Sofie, meanwhile, had surrendered her capacity for thought. She was taking her man now, after so much build-up, and the animal side of her brain was not about to let petty rationality interrupt its lust. The tiny sparks of pain from wax were barely even background noise now. The feather still teased, but her arousal could not rise any higher. Even with her sex still untouched and hidden beneath a skirt, her loins rumbled with what might actually be slow, low-grade orgasm. Her body's fluids had begun a slow trickle down her thighs.

"You know what I'm going to do with you, don't you?" he intoned. Her lungs, closed off as they were by his rigid manhood, could offer no response. "I'm going to open your dripping cave, invade you, take your body as my prize." Felix drank in the constriction her throat created around him, knowing the canal on the opposite end of her body was just as soaked, equally confining, unequivocally his. "You chose to be my whore. And so you are."

His withdrawal from her throat was sudden and shocking. Though she gasped to take in a much-needed breath, the sudden emptiness cut to her core -- as though she'd lost a part of herself.

Tied and blinded, Sophie could do naught but wait. But where the blindfold had previously heightened her senses, the purity of her desperation now drowned the world out. She did not hear the fire crackle or feel its radiation. The sensation from wax and feather were gone. All that remained were the trickles of fluid from both her mouth and vagina and the unspeakable lust that had brought them on. When her man's fingers began rolling the soft skirt up, her brain didn't even register the moans she loosed, the bucking of her hips.

"You are a desperate whore, aren't you, girl?" Felix raised his voice just enough to match the volume of her moans. "Look how your slutty hole is drooling."

Sofie's scream pierced the air the moment his talented tongue touched her. He licked slowly, lightly, lapping up her fluids, but carefully avoiding her button.

"Ooohh! Aaahhh!" her voice remained inarticulate for the seconds or hours he tortured her.

"Perhaps that's enough," he teased.

Sophie's throat released a sound that was half "no," half dying moan.

"What was that?"

Another groan. Her hips thrust themselves as close to him as she could get.

He leaned his body over hers until his lips grazed her ear and his shaft hung a hair's breadth from her overflowing cave. His whisper was barely audible. "Be a good little slut. Tell me what you want."

It came out as a sob. "I want you baby. I need it so bad! Ohhh..."

"What do you need?" His hand gently gathered her long hair as he spoke. "What does my little slut need from me?"

The words came suddenly, cascading in a profane avalanche of desperation, loud and frantic. "I need your cock, baby! I have to feel you in my body! Open my hole! Destroy me and fill me like an empty whore! Fuck me, master, fuck my body! I'm your slutty toy! Aaagghhh!"

That last scream of anticipation and lustful frustration overloaded the circuits Felix had depended upon to keep the foreplay going. His hand, intertwined as it was through her raven hair, gripped and yanked without even consulting his brain.

Lashed to his woman's limbs, the ottoman flew backward with her, squealing against the hardwood floor. But neither of them heard a thing because his cock, throbbing at the most rigid status it had ever achieved, disappeared in the space of a millisecond.

The sensation ended what was left of Sophie's consciousness. An entire day of anticipation, an evening of preparatory lust, and what seemed hours of torturous teasing culminated in a more explosive orgasm than she even thought possible. Her body disappeared as completely as her man's member, leaving behind only unrefined ecstasy and pure love. Flying as she was between the stars, she'd have done anything for that man. She could break the very laws of physics if he asked.

But all of her man's requests were already being fulfilled. Minutes, hours, years -- time had no meaning. Neither felt thrusts so much as connection. With every motion he pulled her -- his whore, his love -- closer into his soul, even as he penetrated ever deeper into hers. Though his body could only invade so far, more and more of his spirit invaded her with every thrust, filling every crevice in his woman's body until it reached the point of no return.

Felix's mortal body unloaded itself in response, sending his essence cascading through her. As if to match her lover's gift, Sophie's nerves unleashed another explosion, rocketing her further through this newfound universe of ecstasy.

Her man's body was heavy against her back, slick with sweat and radiating pheromones and raw heat. But the Felix she felt within her soul made him weightless, comfortably enveloping. The combined emulsions that dripped from her body only underscored the completeness of their connection.

They floated across eternity, with the voice coming from everywhere and nowhere. "I love my girl."