Blindfolds in the Big Apple

For Cookie.

It was cold the night we met. It was the end of March, but it seemed that winter, like a drunken houseguest, didn’t know when it had overstayed its welcome. Her eyes were a crisp blue, just as she’d said. Her hair was a pale blonde and ended at the small of her back. I thought it was very possible that if I put my hands on her waist and squeezed, I could get my fingertips to touch one another. She was beautiful. Too much so it seemed, for I had difficulties speaking.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” I said, hoping I sounded more natural to her than I did to myself. “You look great.”

“So do you,” she replied with a grin.

“Let’s get inside where it’s warm. I‘m sure you can find me the best coffee shop in New York. ” I looked away from her, towards storefronts that lined the street.

“I have a better idea. I have this great herbal tea at my apartment, would you like some?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows at the end; both of us knowing that tea wasn’t the only thing she was offering.

“I’d love some.”

We didn’t end up having tea. I’d brought a bottle of merlot with me on the plane, hoping I’d get to share it with her. When the bottle was finished she got up, turned on the radio, and held her hand out. “Let’s dance.”

I stood up with her. I’m not much of a dancer, but we were both a little buzzed from the wine and quite frankly I was willing by that time to jump out a window if she’d ask, so we danced. Actually she danced, and I just sort of tried to hold on to her. She tilted her head back and laughed, her eyes dancing. When the cd was over I didn’t let go of her. Instead I reached and cupped her cheek in my hand. I leaned in to kiss her and she pulled away.

“Stop,” she said.

She walked over to the couch and grabbed her scarf, walked back over to me, placed it over my eyes and tied it.

“Now kiss me,” she said.

I did. Our tongues danced together and I reached out and grabbed her breast. She moaned in my mouth and bit my lip. The sensations were exquisite. I concentrated on her smell, on the taste of her. She pulled away from me, and I could hear zippers. When she came back she put my hand in hers and placed it on her pussy. I snaked a finger inside of her, relishing her warmth and I dropped to my knees. She put her hand in my hair and pulled me towards her, pressing my face to her pussy. She put her foot on the arm of the sofa and pulled me harder, urging me to fill her with my tongue. She moaned and began rocking back and forth, fucking my face. She would place me right where she wanted me while I licked her for all she was worth, feeling her legs spasm around me. After awhile she began to buck and pull my hair even harder. She was coming and I couldn’t breath. It was fine with me though, worse things could happen than to pass out between this beautiful woman’s legs.

I didn’t though. When she was finished she knelt and licked herself off of my face. I kissed her, relishing the taste of pussy on her tongue. I wanted so bad to see her face, her cheeks flushed with excitement. But I was afraid that if I did, -if I took of the scarf- the night would be over. It’s kind of like how a pitcher won‘t change his socks . I was afraid that any wrong move would cause this dream to end. She stood up and pulled me to my feet, unbuttoned my pants, and pulled my boxers down with them to the floor. Soon afterward her mouth was on my cock, and I could feel it getting even harder than it was already as she sucked me. She grabbed my ass cheeks and pulled me deeper into her mouth, moaning on my cock. It was all too much for me, and I came in her mouth. She swallowed it all, not missing a drop, stood up and -without a word- led me to her bedroom.

She pushed me onto her bed and straddled my cock, riding me. She kissed me, and I could taste the both of us in her mouth. She fucked me hard; she used me. I just laid there, hoping it would never end. I was like a tool; just there for her to use, and I loved the feeling. After awhile I could feel my balls tighten, and I guess she could too, because she began to speed up. I came inside of her, and she came with me. Both of us jerking in little spasms together. She reached down and took the scarf off my face. The first thing I could see was her sweaty smiling face, and the lipstick smeared on her cheek.

We slept together that night, spooning as though we’d been doing it for years. I was up before dawn though, and left a rose on the pillow. I had to be at conference uptown, and I wanted to avoid the next morning conversation.

We’ve talked since then a couple times, never mentioning the night we spent together. I have another conference in New York in July though. Maybe we’ll put the scarf on her next time.