The Dark Room

As I waited in the bright room my heart had already begun to quicken. I was nervous and excited – all in a good way. I had only been waiting for a minute or so but I was aching to get in there, I needed this. I didn’t sit on the large comfortable chair available, I couldn’t sit still, I stood near the door, waiting for the signal for me to go in. This out of all of them, was my favourite game.

I wondered what it was going to be like, I had only done this a few times before and had not yet had any bad experiences, a couple of awkward giggle moments sure, but most of my visits to this room have involved fifteen minutes of absolute gut wrenching bliss. I know some of the others cheated, they liked to peek through their blindfolds to see what was coming next and try to become more involved in the process, but not me - I liked the rules the way they were. I didn’t cheat – kept my blindfold on and my eyes squeezed shut so as not to ruin the mystery, the excitement, the anonymity, the naughty - everything your mother told you not to do - aspect of it. The stranger, the dark, the danger.

As I waited for the music I took stock of myself. My hair was tied in a loose pony tail high up on my head, my feet were bare, my skin was soft and smooth and smelled faintly of lavender from the body wash in the change room. I was wearing a white silk robe and there was a slight dampness between my legs that was more related to the anticipation of what was to come than my recent shower. As I shifted my weight restlessly from one foot to another I felt the muscles in my legs tense and then relax, I was proud of my body, I wasn’t particularly tall and was definitely not long like girls in magazines but I was firm to the touch in most places and soft and supple in others. My stomach was mostly flat but with little muscle definition, my breasts were small but round, the perfect handful, I had been told. My skin was brown from the summer and days spent at the beach and my nipples were small and erect; standing to attention most of the time - but today they could poke an eye out.

As I heard the music start my heart rate jumped, my skin burst out in goosebumps and the dampness was joined by a pleasant swelling. It was time to go in.

They say bats can see, by sound. That the tiny noises they make bounce back to them off the surrounding objects and thats how they create an image of the environment they are in.

I’m no bat, but I can tell you thats exactly what my brain was attempting as I walked into that room. I put my blindfold on first, i opened the door, took three steps forward until my feet registered the change in flooring. The cool tiles gave way to soft, warm, rubber matting. There I stopped, and dropped my robe.  As I stood alone in the dark room, blindfold on - I tried my best to make my bat senses work. Was I alone? At first I couldn’t sense anything except my own thumping heartbeat and shallow breathing. My body trembled slightly with anticipation. 

Then I heard it. The quiet thud of a door closing softly. Calm slow, steady footsteps, coming closer. One, two, three, four, five, six. I swallowed and let out a tiny gasp. Not knowing what would come next, knowing I was naked, vulnerable, that i was completely open to anything this stranger might do to me, that I had signed away nearly all my rights as I walked through that door. 

I waited. I knew they were close but I couldn’t hear anything, my own sharp breathing was drowning out any quieter, more subtle noises I might have heard. I could smell something, I could smell the lavender from my shower, I could smell my own faint umami excitement, but there was something else. 

I was trying to pin down the smell when I felt it, a faint disturbance in the air near my neck, maybe a slight change in temperature or movement of air that indicated in the following nanosecond I would feel a touch. I almost jumped when they first made contact. Fingers gently brush along my neck on both sides, under my ears, rising up the back of my neck as they met together, confidently around the base of my ponytail. These hands deftly released my hair from my ponytail, letting it cascade gently around my shoulders. Those same hands together clasped my right hand and gently threaded my hair tie over my hand onto my wrist. 

Every movement they made was so steady, so sure, like this was the thousandth time they’d performed this ritual. I tried to feel what these hands were like, they weren’t rough, I’d guess they were larger than my own but it would only be a guess. Their most distinguishing feature was their capability. These hands untied my hair better than my own did. 

I stood still. Waiting for what would come next. I was eager to get on with it, to experience whatever it was that was coming. I wiggled my toes, impatient, wondering why they were taking so long, these confident hands. Then I felt them again, these hands. A jolt of electricity through my arms as the gentlest touch on each forearm guided both my hands up to the back of my head. Those two beautiful capable hands placed my hands one on top of the other on the back of my own head, pressing gently to indicate thats where they would stay. 

Those same beautiful hands were suddenly at my calves. Gentle pressure, guiding my legs further apart. I stood there. Hands behind my head, legs apart. Aching for more of these hands. Hands that could guide my body with the gentlest of touches, making me certain I would do anything these hands wanted of me. Anything. 

As I stood there waiting once more I listened to the music, strange rhythmic electronic music, a background hum indicating that the session was still in play. When the music stops, so must we and this experience would be over. 

Then the hands were back, low and steady at the back of my legs. Starting just above my knees gently moving up, I wondered at first if this person, the owner of these beautiful capable hands was in front or behind me, but I did not wonder very long. A change in position of the hands and my pelvis instinctively swayed forward and the most delicious sensation overcame me as a soft tongue snaked into my wet folds and soft lips gently sucked the hood of my clitoris. I let out a gasp and felt myself rise slightly on my toes and lean backwards. Eagerly angling my pussy towards this wonderful person.

The hands moved higher up the back of my legs, fingers gently clutching the flesh where thighs meet ass. The tongue continued; insistent, rhythmic long strokes alternating with gentle sucks of my clitoris. I felt the hands firmly clasp my ass cheeks, pulling them apart as I pushed myself into this glorious mouth with more insistence.

I clenched my thighs and I could feel it, I was close, I was going to come. I started gyrating my pelvis against the mouth as the mouth met my enthusiasm, licking and sucking, burying itself further into me, then focusing just on my clitoris, sucking rhythmically. I was just on the edge, ready to fall into the oblivion of orgasm when the music stopped.

Suddenly the space where my glorious mouth and beautiful hands had been was just air. My own hands left their place at the back of my head and swept the air in front of me, hoping to find this stranger that had so quickly and capably taken me to where even my own hands took far longer to reach. But they were gone. It was over. I bent down to collect my robe, removed my blindfold and made my way towards the light.

Back in  the bright room I collapsed on the chair. My wetness still swollen and throbbing from the closeness of climax. I wanted to touch myself, to rub gently where that mouth had been and take myself to orgasm, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to feel my own inadequacy, next to the skill of those hands, that mouth, that stranger.

I had to see them again. I had to find a way.