A Touch of Rose

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Touch has always been important to her.
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Touch has always been important to me, I have always wondered what sex would be like if I couldn't see anything, only touch, so here goes.

* * * * *

I stumble around the huge library, feeling the rows of heavy, leather bound books. I am blind, I have never known colour, or what things look like. In some ways I enjoy imagining what certain things I have never felt really look like.

Right now I am searching for a book. A book to sit in the light with and read, it is warm outside and I feel weak from too much heat, my skirts swish against the lower shelves of books, my fingers running along the spines until I feel one I like. It's cover is soft, perhaps suede. I slide it out and run my fingertips over the cover, opening it. I place my fingers over the thick page feeling the Braille. The title is simply 'Rose' a book I have not yet read.

I feel my way over to the window seat, following the light I can make out. I sit down on the soft cushions, curling my legs underneath me. Resting the book on my knees I begin to pass my fingers over the raised dots, taking in the roots of the story.

Before long I realise two things, firstly the story I'm reading is turning illicit and making me warm, along with the sun through the window. And secondly, I'm aware of a quiet presence in the room. It isn't unusual in a house this size, but it is disturbing when you cant see, I try and ignore it and continue with the story.

I begin to think I was mistaken as I take of my cardigan, the room seems quiet again, my book has become almost pornographic and I have trouble keeping my cool. I soon feel my panties getting damp, I bite my bottom lip and continue to read.

Sighing, I raise my head from the book, I listen out for any gentile breathing, there seems to be no one around. I get to my feet and tip toe gently to the door, pushing it closed I turn the heavy key. Instead of going back to the window seat I fumble to the huge sofa in the darkened corner lying down on the soft cushions, quickly getting back into the sordid pages lying on my lap. I soon become aroused again, my nipples hardened pressing hard into my corset. The feeling makes me even damper.

Before long I feel a pressing urge to feel the dampness in my panties, I hike up my skirts and feel the heat through the thin material. The book drops from my lap, forgotten, but its images stay fixed in my mind, I have broken out in a sweat, the summer day pours in making my skin slick. I am massaging furiously now. I can feel my clit, swollen, pulsing. Pulling my panties aside I practically tear them I am so desparate to reach orgasm.

I suddenly become aware of a presence, I slow my breathing, and hear him approaching the sofa, I fear it could be my father, and wince, expecting a smack. Instead I feel fingertips on my ankle, through my stocking, running up my leg, over my skirts, onto my corset, laced up the middle with a pink ribbon. His fingers run over the swell of my breasts and over my neck, right up to my slightly parted lips. Taking hold of his hand he hauls me onto my feet, grabbing me as I stumble, unsteady with lust.

I reach up, gasp as my fingertips brush his sharp, angled features. I recognise him as one of our housekeepers Paul. He is topless, I run my fingers over his shaven skin, brushing his Adam's apple, down over his protruding shoulder blades feeling his skin to be damp also, with sweat. I walk around him, feeling him shudder under my fingertips, I caress his back, run my fingers down his spine, moving back to his front I feel his nipples, rigid, I move still over his solid abs, beautifully moulded and hairless.

Further down, I feel his rigid stomach muscles, smooth and slick with the sweat of a hard mornings work. The heat of the sun has kept his skin almost hot to the touch. He covers my fingers with his own, forces them down I gently scrape the skin below his naval hearing him moan my name he forces my fingers lower cupping his huge erection. I let out what can only be described as a mixture of surprise and ecstasy.

His hand is undoing my ribbon, I feel the corset loosening, I feel myself being able to breathe again. Instantly, his hands are on my breasts, my nipples puckering harder than they already were.

I let my corset fall to the floor, he struggles with the strings on all my skirts, I help him, frantically feeling for the knot, tearing at it. My skin is hot, a searing warmth that comes from both the heat of the day and my desire to be taken. I tear at his pants as he pushes me back down onto the sofa. He peels away my stockings, sliding them down my legs with one hand, caressing my smooth skin with the other, right to my toes.

I am wearing nothing but my panties, which he removes slowly, I can feel his warm breath between my legs, making me fiery hot with lust. He plants soft little kisses and nibbles on my inner thighs, brings a long finger up, and teases my throbbing clit. Soft moans escape my mouth, I enjoy the way they feel on my tongue. Warm, and wet. He probes my damp lips and opening with his fingers, he slides one in gently, as far as it will go. The moan I get out is louder, lustfully groaning his name reaching for him with my hands, feeling his damp, long hair, I grasp it, cling to it.

His breathing is ragged, I feel it on my clit as he licks it, running his wet tongue the length of me. Sometimes stopping to pay special attention to my clit. He brings me so close to covering his face in my juices. But he stops, and pulls me up until I'm perched on the edge of the sofa. My legs spread to accommodate his, I sense my face is inches from his hard sex. This is confirmed when I feel his cock teasing my lips.

I bring my hands up and wrap them around it, it is hard, I can feel drips of precome on his head. I part my lips and let him in, it tastes salty but so good. I lick his cock and he rocks against me, forcing himself deeper into the velvety soft insides of my mouth. His skin is smooth and slides in and out with ease.

I feel him harden even more. I sense he is close to orgasm his breathing has become so ragged. He pulls out and pushes me back so I am lying again. I can feel the soft material of the sofa on my back and legs. He lies between my legs, forces them up over his shoulders and slides into me in one swift motion. My hands are all over him, feeling how his muscles move as he does. His strong arms and back, all moving as he thrusts into me, calling me Miss Jane as he moaned with carnal lust. His lips find mine and he parts them with his tongue. Our tongues play, teasing each other. He tastes of the outdoors, so sweet and warm.

My hands are on his pert ass, occasionally digging in my nails to hear his response, it makes him moan. Thrust deeper into my hot velvet. I can feel a heat rising in me, I feel it in him also as he pushes us both over the edge. He fills me with wave after wave of thick white cum. My pussy tightens over him, taking every drop. He falls on top of me, burying his face in my hair which fell from its clip some time ago. He is still moaning my name, I feel tears running down his face. I smile and hold him close to me. We fall asleep, him still inside me.

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