Hand Prints

It took me at least five minutes to figure out which projector I wanted to watch the movie on, and then another eight minutes because I had to pick the movie.

"Why did he have two projectors anyways?"

They weren't right next to each other, one was hung against the wall, the other dropped down just in the middle of the open floor plan so it could separate the living room from the kitchen. It wasn't too bad. You had choices. If you wanted to sit along the couch you'd be against the windows with the view of the projector that split off the kitchen, or you could sit along the curved section of the couch so that you would be faced the opposite way towards the adjacent wall. The place was hospitable, and the layout was thoughtful, but something was still odd. It seemed like a lot for just one man...

Eventually I settled on watching Frida. I had some alone time for a few hours and planned to spend it with a movie and shower. After that I would finish some clay pieces, occasionally bringing myself to orgasm. Sometimes I liked to have a homemade video to watch as I twirled my fingers around my enlarged clit, this time I picked a movie. The afternoon sun warmed my legs as I stretched out. I made the right choice in choosing the projector against the wall. It felt more natural. The sun had been on the move today, and had made its way to the projector wall casting a long shadow to the left just along the wall where the turntable sat, there was some extra light spilling out onto the floors. I always loved how the light shining in would make me feel so warm. Any other day this always made me admire the records, but just as my eye shifted from the records back to the screen something caught my eye.

Hand prints?

Sitting up I began to question this. We hadn't had a party in a while. Sure we had a kick back but no one left too inebriated that they'd leave hand prints on the wall. I scooted closer, I counted over fifteen pairs! The wall was basically covered in hand prints, they were all different sizes and in different places, angles and spots. Some had all five fingers, others only three, this made me certain none of this was left behind from one of our average kick backs or movie nights. That's when I remembered one of our conversations where he had said something long the lines of.

"My ex would throw these parties, and I'd come home from work and see a orgy happening in the front room."

I pondered more on this for multiple reasons. For one, I couldn't help but think if he had wiped down the walls after all this time or not? Just how long ago was all this time?

"Was this a orgy? Who was a part of this orgy, and was it anyone that I know? I couldn't help but think of all these things and then some. What else didn't I know or see?"

There were so many questions.

"Was this the reason for the second projector, placed oddly in the middle of the room like some type of divider? Just what was this man into?"

I chased these curiosities for a long time, but it would be later on that I would find out what he found pleasure in, and what role I would play voluntarily and involuntarily.

Right now all I had was the present moment, and so I blocked out the hand prints, I blocked out all that I might not know of this man, sat back, and allowed the vibrations to ease my worries away. Every thump gave an intense sensation to my starving clit. Leaving a messy pool underneath me, I tossed my legs up into a Happy Baby Pose variation then blindly moved my hand around in order to find my little pink bag, snatching out my seventies rainbow themed dildo, I plunged two pulsing inches at a time until the entire eight inches was soaked by my wetness.

I sat there for a while. Took it all in, the hand prints, the confusion, the arousal all tied with disbelief. Everything about this man was a mask. A mere pathway towards an alternative self. I did no better, reflecting those behaviors choosing to cum my problems away temporarily. That's when the thoughts began to conjure up again.

"Should I question this?"

I wasn't sure how to feel about it all.

"Would he even answer it comfortably let alone honestly?" There were many other things he had done that had proven justification in my lack of trust. Clearly not enough for me to leave, as if I had the will power. There was something about him, he had power and carried himself in such a pristine manner. Naturally he was hard to resist. Not to mention he was so gentle and kind, you would never guess what types of perverted things he took apart in.

"Would he want me to join in?" This thought lingered on more than the others, because what if? Would I dare put my hand prints upon the wall? Succumb to lust and fall pity to desire?

Falling deep into one after the other, and even another after that sounded so fucking good to me. I was raised to never allow feelings and thoughts like these to arise out of the cages that I was made sure to bury them in. I am my own woman now, and those forbidden days are long since over. There is absolutely nothing else that I want more than to share tongues, spit and orgasms with a group that is safe and willing. I figure I could go hours rubbing my clit along another woman while I gently suck the juices out of another. The image of being able to have both makes me want to reach for my vibrator again, but I control myself. I'm a good girl, sometimes. I'm definitely a good girl when I'm doing anal. I got to ride last night, my asshole was so stretched out. I loved every moment of it. It takes a lot of work, trust and especially patience in order to open up to someone like that. My asshole is always so tight, extra hands could come of use for when I want to be the perfect fuck toy and open all holes for use. The limit doesn't seem to exist in my mind, and I am not sure how good or bad all of that is. Before I loose myself in this endless sea of slutty thoughts, I stop and catch myself. Back to the original question. If I would join in or not? Truth be told I'm not against the idea or any of it happening, I'm just not experienced in any of it. There is a side of me that is absolutely nervous about the entire thing, but that doesn't mean I have no interest in it completely.

I can't help but repeat the thought in my head again.

"What if he wants me to join?"

To be continued....