Xanadu Stories Ch. 01

"Use the other hand, " I thought, "you have two hands don't you?" Then suddenly I had a ridiculous vision that the woman didn't have two hands. Perhaps she had an arm in plaster or only one upper limb. The incongruity of this thought made me laugh and although I tried hard to suppress it my body shook with a fit of the giggles. The hand was withdrawn quickly. I swore at myself inwardly, it was becoming obvious that there were ways of communicating with the pleasure givers; ways beyond words, and that to receive pleasure I must learn to use my body to reveal my desires.

Over the next period - I had no real idea of the passage of time - several people came to the coffin. I got the feeling though that they were passers-by who were trying out a new experience under the watchful eye of Peter but who were intent on reaching some of the other activities provided by the party. Various explorations of my body were undertaken, none unpleasant but none living up to the promise of my perfumed nail lady and none, incidentally, straying below my belly button. The result of these unsatisfactory forays around a selection of my erogenous zones, left me in state of sexual tension and excitement that begged for release. I would probably have pleasured myself and then pressed the panic button if my hands had not been securely tied.

By this time, I was learning to anticipate the intentions of my pleasure givers from their first few touches so I immediately knew that the clasp of a warm hand on my right foot was different. I flexed my toes and was rewarded with a gentle massaging movement; first one toe, then another then the sole of my foot with a kneading motion that was highly erotic. I felt the dampness between my legs increase. And then - wonder of wonders - someone with two hands and the imagination to use them. Both feet were gently massaged from toe to ankle. I lifted my feet as far as the bonds would permit allowing the hands to cup my heels and slide up my calves. This time the ankle cuffs appeared to cause no problem and my pleasure giver treated my feet and calves to a sensual massage that was clearly the work of an expert. I willed him on (or was it a her, I could not be sure), as my state of arousal mounted.

The area behind my knees was next to merit special attention. This is another area that I love to be touched. The tongue is the right organ to give pleasure to this spot in my opinion, but since this was not an option, I made do with the fingers, nails and palms that were offered.

My calves, knees, and thighs were caressed in long stroking movements that were like heaven. My thighs then received the focus of attention, the warm hands gliding first up the outside and then, wonderfully, caressing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. The touch was gentle at first, hardly touching my skin, gliding, just brushing the sensitive hairs on my inner thigh getting close but not yet touching the moist lips of my vagina. Somehow I knew that this was not through any reticence but a deliberate, slow moving, pleasure dance delaying the moment when I would finally experience what my body now craved. So, avoiding the core of my womanhood the hands moved upwards, stroking my belly, probing my belly button and moving up and around my sides. The lines of my inner arms and wrists were traced by the wonderful hands, moving up to my shoulders and down my sides, in a circular motion, the backs of the hands just touching my breasts as they moved - each time getting closer to the hard peaks of desire that were my nipples. Soon my breasts were receiving the attention they craved. Fingers ran in circular movements around my areolas, before teasing and rolling my nipples so that I moaned and whimpered with the sheer delight of it. Then the hands moved upwards to my face and hair and neck and shoulders and the man's (I was now sure) fingers were on my lips and I was sucking them into my mouth, licking them, trying to give pleasure in return, saying with my body, "Yes, yes, yes..." And he understood the signals. He understood what I wanted so badly.

The hands, the fingers now wet with my spittle slowly moved down my torso, over my breasts and belly and, while one hand gently parted the lips of my vagina, the other found the hard nub of my clitoris and began the gentle circular teasing, stroking and rolling that would surely bring me to ecstasy. At last; at last; at last; Yes; yes, the feeling of those fingers was pure pleasure. I was SO sensitive and soaking wet down there. I was almost crying with pleasure, writhing against my bonds so that I was scared that the coffin would fall off the stand. Then - slowly, slowly - without stopping the massage of my clitoris, the fingers of the hand that held my labia open, gently entered my vagina and began circling my G spot. That was it. There was no holding back - within seconds the waves of orgasm began to wash over me, at first slowly then building up to a shattering climax which went on and on and on. The muscles of my vagina clenched around the fingers in spasm after spasm while I arched and stretched within the bonds that held me to this fountain of pleasure. My gasps and cries of ecstacy were muffled to my ears but were surely audible throughout the club.

The fingers continued their dual massage in perfect time with each spasm of pleasure. Gently slowing down as my orgasm waned in intensity and I rested back against the soft silk; my body sated; my pleasure almost complete. My ultimate pleasure giver slowly withdrew his fingers and rested his hands on my body allowing me the time to find myself before finally withdrawing and leaving me in a state of satisfied bliss.

As I relaxed I pondered on the experience. The bonds holding me open to this pleasure left me totally devoid of control. I could not guide the hands to the the familar places on my body that I knew from experience would give me particular pleasure; bUt the hands found them anyway and, exploring on their own, they found other centres of feeling that familiarity would bypass. These and other random musings ran through my mind as I lay back on the silken base of the coffin for a few minutes, my body gently aching but still exquisitely sensitive from the climax of minutes before. Then, when I thought I had recovered enough to stand, I pressed the button - which I had of course to find first having dropped it in my pleasure. A few seconds later the lid slowly lifted to reveal Peter. He had thoughtfully drawn the curtains and dimmed the lights so that I would have chance to get used to the brightness after being in the coffin for who knows how long. He looked down at me with that knowing smile on his handsome face, as I lay there exhausted but feeling so, so good.

"Didn't I say that you'd enjoy the experience Madam?" he said as he reached out to untie the bonds that would release me to continue my evening in the Club Xanadu.