Dating in the Dark

My mind filled in the gaps. The flashy patterns before my eyes were a sign of becoming adjusted to the complete darkness. However, they twisted into vaguely human forms. I thought, "Did I just see a pair of wobbling breasts?" I became sure I just saw someone's dick swinging about. So many phantom, naked penises seemed to surround me that it became an exhausting distraction.

I wanted to laugh again. I found myself becoming wildly turned on. With a quick swipe of my fingers, I checked myself to confirm that yes I was, in fact, as wet as I felt I was. Then I sniffed my hand and realized, "Fuck, my smell is all over my fingers." I tried to imagine the surprise of the first guy I felt up and how he'd suddenly get a whiff of my vag all over his body. I couldn't believe I was responding to the situation as powerfully as it was. I felt myself wanting to have an encounter of some sort, but I wasn't sure what, with whom, or what it would be like.

One thing was clear, though: the fact that no one could see me suddenly gave me great license to feel an intense erotic excitement from being completely nude in the presence of so many complete strangers.

I found myself beginning to walk confidently, sticking out my chest, feeling the bold sensation of strolling through the room with my breasts and muff out, imagining that everyone could see me and that I was totally cool with that. This feeling grew and grew as I successfully avoided any further human contact, reaching a crescendo until... boom. Just like that, I ran face-first into a tall, hard body.

I knew at once that it was a man.

I turned slightly to face him dead on. He turned. A long, fleshy object smacked against my thigh. I cringed and thought, "Did I just feel what I think I felt?" With a pounding heartbeat, I reached up and touched a chest, hoping not to grab another boob. My hands glided smoothly over a set of solid male abs. My heart leaped into my throat and I shivered. My hands moved aimlessly up and down the mysterious chest, unsure what to do with them, where to go next, how this all worked.

I didn't have to make any choices. The stranger's hand appeared, seemingly impatient with my indecisiveness. I could hear someone breathing in front of me. It sounded like breathy amusement. I felt myself losing control of my own hand as he took over, guiding it downward. Suddenly, I felt it slip over a bellybutton. Then: hair. Smooth, neatly groomed, laying flat against his pelvic region.

Right after that, my hand finally came to a rest on an elongated shaft; warm and solid, fully engorged and gently twitching back against my hand. I inhaled sharply. "That's a full-on fucking boner," I thought. Startled and unsure if I wanted to proceed, I tugged my hand away.

Admittedly, I panicked. I spun around and headed back the direction I had just come from. Or was it? I became distinctly conscious of the fact that there was no exit. There wasn't much of anything, for that matter. Just naked flesh wandering in darkness. I stopped where I was at, took a deep breath, and collected myself.

"I just touched a penis," I repeated to myself. "A strange, naked man's fully erect penis." This realization spun in my head making me dizzy. Regardless, I told myself that the man was not the one for me. He just wanted me to feel him up and be impressed by the size of his cock. At least I still had my secrets left intact. He hadn't had a chance to cop a feel. "His loss!" I thought, grinning into the darkness and feeling a slight tinge of power.

No, this was going to be my choice. I was the huntress. I told myself that with the next guy I found, I'd be in control. I'd steer the ship and take the bold actions when I was good and ready. It felt different now being on the offense. The darkness was no longer threatening. It was filled with unaware, sexual prey for my taboo curiosity, which I would engage more skillfully and on my own terms.

It wasn't long before I bumped into another body. I was immediately certain that this, too, was a man. I grabbed his hands and planted them securely on my shoulders before he had a chance to do anything with them. He took the hint and kept them there. Running my hands back along his arms, I felt two strong biceps, the muscular caps of his shoulders, the bony ridge of his neck bone. After a little tour of his modestly hairy chest, I slipped my hands down the sides of his torso and felt him squirm with excitement.

I decided what I wanted next. I wanted to feel his ass. Would it be flat? Would he have solidly muscular glutes? I slipped my hands around back and over his buttocks, gripping two strong cheeks. I laughed against his neck, dipped my head forward, and accidentally gave him a little head butt. The stranger began chuckling.

However, just as I began to relax into the moment, I felt his hands slip free from the safe zone I had assigned them to. Down they went to mirror my actions, going straight for my bum where he gripped my cheeks and gave them a solid squeeze. And just like that, I was out of there all over again, pulling away and slipping back into the safety of the darkness surrounding us, not quite sure if I liked this yet.

Then again, of course he responded by grabbing my ass. I just grabbed his... I realized I needed to either commit myself to something or realize that this whole thing wasn't for me.

After some internal debate, I decided I wanted to be touched -- the right way. But what was the right way, especially when it was a stranger? It felt like a question I could answer under normal circumstances but in the complete darkness of the space, I questioned everything. I told myself I'd know him if or when I found him. It would just feel right. I'd recognize the guy for me instantly. I was sure of it.

I wandered again, in a different direction, with a deep achy feeling pulsing at my core. After coming this far, I didn't want to end up leaving with yet another failure to make a connection with someone. Not again. Even if it had to be in this bizarre situation that Irina had pushed me into.

Suddenly, I felt an arm brush against mine. Just an arm, nothing more; no barreling face-first into a wall of human flesh. Maybe it was the simple grace of the brief contact that sparked my curiosity. Maybe it was the little electric thrill of our bodies glancing each other with just the slightest and safest degree of intimacy. I paused and turned, then raised my hand. My hand met his in the air. Our fingers closed around each other. We just stood there, holding hands, our palms levitating in the darkness.

It was strange but we just stayed like that for a few moments. It was like we were greeting each other in the most normal and fundamental way, asking permission to proceed. I lowered my hand, taking his with me. Something stirred in my body; a kind of vibration. Or hands moved together. Just our hands, at first. He moved with a gentleness, a sensuality, exploring my fingers all the way to the tips. Curious, but with restraint.

Did you know that you could become horny as fuck just by having someone stroke your hand?

We detached only for a moment. He seemed to be waiting for me. I extended my hand again, much as I had done with the earlier men, and placed it upon his chest. It felt warm. I felt my palm rising and falling as he breathed. I felt his quickened heartbeat. There was something comforting about the knowledge that he was just as nervous as I was. Maybe that's what gave me the courage to follow through with what I couldn't do earlier.

I ran my fingers over his flattish nipples, circling them playfully. Then I slipped my hands down along his body as he stood there, breathing audibly. He had a solid build and a slim waist. I found myself doing exactly what I imagined a guy doing to me earlier: I slowly mapped his terrain, sketching it out in my mind to form as complete a picture of the landscape of his naked body as I could. Then, I went for it. My hands curled around his body and slipped over his tight, round buttocks.

"Mmm," I whispered, finding myself in full disbelief at the unexpected sound of my own voice.

As I inched closer, I felt the gentle heat from his body bloom around me. I leaned in just a little too close; my hardened nipples lightly grazing his chest. I felt him react, his stance becoming stiffer, more alert. I felt his breath exhale across my shoulder. Still, he only brought his hands to my waist, anchoring me there as I began to run my hands under his two muscular cheeks. With his hands so close to my nether regions, I became incredibly conscious of my own nakedness. I knew that they were just inches away from my mons, tantalizingly close to my lady bits. Moreover, I knew that somewhere, perhaps just inches away in front of me, was this man's penis.

I cast aside the anxiety of that awareness and reached up for his face. I felt the texture of the short bristles on his cheek, the sturdiness of his jaw. Then I felt his hands moving but I found myself entirely unthreatened. They swept up through my hair, filtering loose strands through his fingers before he followed them back down, exploring their length and silkiness. Then he returned his hands to the side of my face where he gently brushed my cheek and swept his fingers over my ear.

I felt so lost in a dream that it somehow didn't even occur to me how dangerously close he was to my little secret. It didn't dawn on me until it was too late. I felt his fingers reach my scar, discovering the long, raised strip of sinewy flesh that bolted down my neck. He paused as he made contact, then ran his fingers over it as if they were exploring what they found -- realizing there was something there that shouldn't be.

I panicked. I wanted to run again. Even in the dark, I was not safe from that little fucking wound that made me so insecure. I felt myself react, tugging away, making to leave. I must have shown him all the signs of my absolute discomfort with the fact that he'd found my Achilles heel.

However, the unexpected happened.

The stranger stood his ground and leaned in toward my neck, planting a soft kiss on my scar. I felt his lips lift away before blowing air softly across it. I melted. Oh god, how that simple gesture disarmed me. How expressive it was, in such a different way, when there was nothing written on his face that I could otherwise read of his reaction.

Needless to say, everything changed at that moment. He had me, and I him. I stepped in close, even closer than before until my whole body had moved up against him. I felt my breasts softly press against his chest, allowing him to experience them intimately, my protruding nipples poking firmly against his skin, announcing how alive my body had become in response to his gentle affections.

He moved up against me as well. I suddenly felt the distinct presence of his dangling cock against my body; long, limber, and semi-aroused. I felt it thickening, starting to twitch, a stiffening mass slowly climbing the inside of my thigh. This time, however, I was eager to reach down and take it in my hand where it continued to swell and harden until I possessed his bulky, swollen cock and felt it pulse with pure want.

Breathing heavily, I rested my head in the cavity of his neck. I inhaled the faint scent of his cologne. It smelled woody. Bourbon. Maybe a hint of ginger. It smelled the color of amber. I nuzzled my face there, enthralled with his body as I gently stroked him from his tight, firm testicles out to the tip of his cock, bulbous and distinctly ridged. I saw the image of it forming in my head. The scent of his cologne began to mix with the scent of his arousal, which in turn mixed with the faintest hint of my own.

In fact, I was so turned on that the moment he ran his fingers through my mass of pubic hair and touched the lips of my nether region I nearly came on the spot. By the time he slipped his fingers between my folds, parting my body open, I had to press my mouth into his chest to muffle my sighs. I felt his digits move through me, suddenly slick and wet. The stickiness was outright audible.

I lifted my face from his body and exhaled deeply. I felt as if a fire was burning down below and I wanted him to know just how hot it was. Fully on an otherworldly auto-pilot, I took his hand and raised it to his face until I found his lips, waving his fingers back and forth beneath his nose to inhale my aroma before taking a single digit and running it across his mouth. I transferred the juices on his fingers to his lips until I imagined them lacquered with a thin, shiny gloss. I heard the subtle sound of his tongue as it emerged to taste me there. He sighed with satisfaction and tipped forward until our cheeks connected and he seemed desperate to find my own lips.

I couldn't stand it anymore. I grabbed his hand and tugged him aside. Leading him blindly, I moved through the space until I came to the wall and then felt for the nearest couch. We found it together. I listened as he shuffled around a bit, doing something to ensure there was a suitable spot for us. The stranger made his way down onto one of the cushions and then guided me down to join him. I felt some kind of fresh covering there.

I quickly climbed onto his lap, wrapped my arms around his neck, and straddled him. I fished and found his cock sprouting from his lap, hardened and sturdy. I guided it between my legs but denied him the satisfaction of penetration. I knew better than that. I was supposed to get another date out of this, after all. I opened my hips wider, resting his thick shaft against the moistened flesh of my inner labia as I spread myself open for him. Slowly, I ground his cock up against my slick body as I leaned in and arrested his lips.

He kissed me frantically, driven to peak desire with my strategic and careful gyrations. I felt his hands cupping my breasts as they jostled playfully against his palms. I was so wet. I wanted him so badly but resisted. The wet sounds of his aroused body against mine was music to my ears as we moved passionately together in the warm cocoon of our embrace, enshrouded in total darkness. His lips tasted sweet, his tongue sweeter still. I wanted more of it -- I even wanted him to taste more of me.

Desperate to catch my breath after a long stretch of locking lips, I wrestled him out of his seat, took his spot, and pushed him downward until he got the idea. I quivered with anticipation as I flung my knees apart and waited for that sweet sensation of first contact. I remember just thinking I was absolutely insane for doing this. I heard him inhale deeply then plant an intimate kiss in a place that set my entire body aflame and returned to his lips the dewy wetness that I had teased him with earlier.

I couldn't see his face and yet I knew exactly what he looked like in the moments that followed, bathed in my feminine fragrance, burrowing his face in that humid expanse of liquid flesh, his tongue lashing out to explore every inch of my intimate depths, smelling, tasting, knowing my deepest physical passions. I heard myself moaning, filling the space around us with an expression of pure bliss, knowing that there were others out there, listening, witness to my incredible suffering -- and yet for once, I did not care.

I grasped at his scalp and ran my fingers through his hair, feeling it filter through my fingers as he swept his tongue through my creamy folds, teasing my clit until I could do nothing but mash my pussy against his hungry mouth.

"Oh god... fuck... fuck..." I whispered, barely able to withstand any more. "You're going to make me... ngh... I'm going to come..." I whined at him. I felt him move stealthily, hungrily, as he sped me toward the unavoidable result of our little tryst on the couch.

"Ohhhh, god... fuuuuck..." I repeated, wanting to scream his name but having no such option before me. I also wanted to explode. I needed it. It had been so long that I deserved it just for the sheer patience and endurance I had demonstrated.

I felt a wave of pleasure roll through my body, carrying with it wave that erupted in his mouth as I frantically jerked my hips in fits and spasms, coming with a wild intensity that must have left his face a total mess as he savored the sweet juices of my incredible gratification. Within an instant, he was back by my side, eager to receive my embrace. I was still gasping for air but managed to kiss him anyway, engulfed in my own scent that laced his lips.

Then I pulled away. Still huffing and puffing, I lowered my mouth to his ear. "134," I groaned.

"116," he quickly whispered, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation. I savored his voice. It's closeness. It's tenderness.

If he wanted more, he'd have to earn it. Before I departed, I leaned in one last time, stealing his breath with a long, deep kiss. Then I abandoned him there, finding my way to a remote corner of the room where I recovered and listened to the other encounters happening around me. I hid there until it was time to go, each of us anonymously exiting that place one by one the same way we arrived and recording the numbers we received as we left.

No, I had no intention of seeking any stranger in that place other than the one who'd whispered #116 in my ear.

I was out on the street again. People were moving in all directions, filtering down West Thirty-Sixth street like blood through the veins of a hot-blooded city, flooding out across the urban landscape. I briefly wondered where they were going and what they were doing; what else might be happening out there, things I wasn't aware of, events like the one I'd just attended.

But it really didn't matter. I got what I so desperately wanted.

Now all I had to know was... did he?

***

By the time I got the email revealing that #116 had confirmed our match, I had already planned out the continuance of our thrilling love affair in exquisite detail. There was no "taking it slow," no unnerving ambiguities, no constant dread that the whole thing was about to collapse under the weight of my depressing expectations. No, we'd already jumped straight into the deep end. It was already wet and wild. We already knew each other intimately -- each and every part of one another.

Well... except, of course, each other's face.

Without delay, I utilized the form linked to in the email to shoot a quick message off to #116. I said: "Has your appetite been sufficiently whetted?"

I then made my way to a French patisserie by Union Square and sat in the window with a latte and a few canelés desperately checking and rechecking the email on my phone. The long glass window was filled with an assortment of transient faces alternately full of cheer, irritation, amusement, and range of other emotions, all of them coolly offering up to a stranger sitting in the window the one thing I desperately now wanted to receive from my mystery man: some basic shred of an identity.

Within the hour, I got another message, labeled, "Your match has sent you a reply." He said, "Indeed! Is there a main course?" I smirked as I popped the last canelé into my mouth and gazed through the window at the marquee on the movie theatre across the street. It was for some raucous comedy named, "Girls Behaving Badly." It almost had to be read as a sign.

At the very least, I took it as divine permission to reply the way I really wanted to: "How about we skip straight to dessert?" The only problem was that now I was on the hook to make something happen. I thought, "He's going to realize I'm not as sexy as I'm making myself out to be." I had to deliver on my tease somehow -- but what would naturally follow the theme of what we'd done together the night before?

"Help!" I texted Irina, inexplicably determining that I now needed her help to see this through. She wanted to hear all the details straight away but I told I'd explain when we saw each other in person. "It was hoooot," is all I would tease her with.