He has avoided calling her, he is very proud. Her absence has become a noise that drowns out his day to day. The light drains from his day, color seems to find amusement in draining from his surroundings. His breakfast has been gone too long from his lips. Patiently he waits. Busy is something that is a constant state, it is not an achievement it is a reality. Never a dull moment, always on the move, yet the sound gets louder. More and more he finds trouble in paying attention to all that is his life. Patiently he waits.
His phone comes to life, a text from her. Like water colors, hues begin to bleed in to the world surrounding the phone. Yet he continues to wait. There is a tone that must be nurtured, an element in all of this that cannot be sacrificed for urges or desires. Abstinence, to refrain from something; in this case, to isolate ones self from satisfying a desire in a campaign to enjoy fully the next event that may come. Also in this case, her.
He opens his phone, and sees her text, 'I miss you.' He smiles and replies, 'I want you.' She types, but nothing comes through. She has an iPhone and it shows that she cannot commit to an idea. She types and deletes, or he assumes so. Her text comes through, 'It has been too long, I'm mad at you for not contacting me.' With that slight smile on his face, one which she thoroughly enjoys, he texts her, 'Come see me two Thursdays from today.'. Quickly she replies, 'You dodging me being mad at you?' With a playful tone, 'No, I am just fast forwarding to when I have you in my hands and you can think of nothing else.' As quickly as she reads his message she replies with a middle finger emoji. He texts her back, 'Does 10am work for you?'. Reluctantly she replies, 'Yes'.
In an effort to give in to her slightly he concedes, 'I have missed you, I have wanted you, but I have chosen to wait for you.' She takes her time to reply but does not. He seems a bit upset over this but instead regains his composure and types, 'Would you like your new set of instructions? If you cannot comply I totally understand.' She replies, 'And if I can't?', he jabs, 'Then we will reconvene to a time when you can.' An eternity seems to go by as he waits for her to reply. "She is doing this on purpose." he whispers to himself. She texts him, 'Send it.'
Almost with a clinical delivery he messages her:
-You will be clean shaven.
-You will arrive without panties and braless.
-You will come in and lock the door behind you.
-On the first desk to your left you will see a white mask, stand in front of that mask.
-Behind you will be another door, do not turn around, I will not be in the room when you enter.
-Put on the mask, fasten the mask comfortably.
-Say the following words, "I am ready"
-I will then enter the room from behind you to expose your breasts.
-You will lean forward on the desk and we will commence.
A moment passes and she replies, 'Fuck'. He smiles. 'Will you comply?' he persists. His phone reads, 'yes...' and the date is set. He leans back and looks around with no expression yet filled with oxygen. He looks around at his office with a touch of melancholy. As if fondly remembering how color looked in his life and enjoying its return. Armed with an objective he sets out to create this mask she must wear. In his mind he has already crafted this and it almost seems like a waste of time getting to the end product. It will be decorative, plane white, with cloth over the eyes to obstruct all sight. It will be elegant, straps, a ribbon made from satin. It will be a fine product made with meticulous care and love for the stage he wants to set. He is happy.
She fought to not text him, it was a battle waged within herself. A single mother of three her life was very busy, much like his. Where in his world her absence was a drowning noise hers was the lack of silence. She missed being able to hear herself breathe when he touched her skin. Desired, wanted, made to feel beautiful, these are the things missing from her life. Where she was resigned to put her family before what she needed, she was only human and struggled with doing for herself. He was a hole in her life and he completely filled it when they were together. The same could not be said from some of her past relationships. She wanted him from the beginning and now he wants her too, even if it is for a short moment. A second with him seams like an eternity and time away from him seams longer. There is a tinge of nervousness that comes with this relationship. The long game could bring pain, disappointment, but right now...it simply is and she would deal with that as she went deeper into the rabbit hole. Right now she needs a break from her life. His presence raises her blood pressure and his instructions are driving her mad with anticipation.
The first set of instructions that started this, stunned her but she quickly decided that it was an opportunity to experience what is only seen in the movies. She embraced it, and never thought it would turn out as good as it did. She may have become addicted to this but has not decided yet. She will think on it none stop until she is in rout to him. It's almost like enjoying an inside joke. Everyone asks what she is smiling about, and she says 'it's nothing'. Her week and weekend have flown by with anticipation, in an almost haze like happiness. She finds herself in the shower with an overwhelming thought that 'tomorrow' is the day. The day I get to feel him again, to lose control, to give herself fully. She begins to feel that stirring, her hips begin to sway to the water funneling down her thighs. The urge grows as she begins to lather her skin with soap, hands passing over her curves. Her nipples harden and she then knows that she is in trouble. Without thought she turns the water temperature to cold and barks out, 'FUCK!'. She did not want to have finish in the shower before tomorrow. She wanted those to be his, because he pulls as many out of her as she can handle and she wants to make sure she can handle as much as he wants. It is hard for her to sleep but she manages.
It is morning and it is quiet, thoughts of him and what he can do to her body have quieted the life around her. The only noise is a barely audible stroke of the razor on her legs. With great meticulousness she shaves her legs clean taking great care to not nick any part of her skin. So that her legs are flawless. She wants them as smooth as the skin on his head when he shaves. She loves that feeling between her thighs. Because she has no idea what will happen she can only hope he makes it there. The last time was exhilarating, just the idea of walking back into his office makes her heart rate simmer a bit.
Almost as if in remote control she makes it to her van and is half way there before realizing that she didn't even know how she got there. Everything is surreal and she decides to just enjoy that lack of thought, the overwhelming feeling of anticipation. She smiles and tries to adjust how she is sitting. She is wet and doesn't want to leave a mark on her sundress. No panties is a cruel joke that he tortures her with. It's like walking into a sauna without being allowed to sweat. She smiles again. Her destination approaches and she slows to drive over the speed bumps. She can feel the gravity on her vagina by simply going over the speed bumps. As she pulls in she accepts that she is extremely turned on.
He has been working all morning trying to stay ahead of schedule. Before when he had her for breakfast there was more difficulty staying on task. He has improved his concentration. This moment in time, this little adventure. As much as he enjoys it, is not for him, it is for her. Every shutter, trembling sensation, every palpitation, every orgasm she is inspired to have is for her and will stay with her for a very long time. He understands this and respects it. He smiles, looking at the mask that he made her, he believes it is perfect. It is made of smooth plastic the color of white. A soft cloth was cut to fit the eyeholes and were carefully glued on to obstruct all sight. The original strings to tie on the mask were made of a basic material, he purchased satin ribbon to compliment the look and feel of the mask. He fastened a latch system from a chrome colored paperclip. It is easy to put on and fasten. It is perfect for her and for this. He waits.
She parks in front of his office takes a slightly deeper breath and gets out. He sees that she took a second before she got out, he smiles. He makes his way to the adjacent room and closes the door behind him. She opens the door and the office is empty, the lights are off yet the office is lit up and very bright. The windows to the office run from the top to the bottom and are one-way windows, mirrored on the outside and clear on the inside. No one can see in but its crystal clear looking out. To the left is a second desk from where breakfast took place, and she sees the mask. She looks to the door to her right and sees that its completely shut. With a slight movement she turns to lock the door leading out of the office, it is loud. She takes a few steps to reach for the mask, her breasts sway a bit. She has a D cup with the freedom of being braless, and as an added element, they are a bit swollen. Slowly she reaches for the mask, smiles because she notices that it's handmade. With a subtle hesitation, more like enjoying that moment before she puts on the mask, she raises the mask to her face. She pulls tight the satin laces to the back where she attaches the latch. In a firm voice she says, "I am ready" and leans against the desk in front of her.
The door opens and he quickly walks out to join her. He walks behind her, puts his hand on the front of the mask and makes sure it is fastened correctly. He says nothing. His hands fall to her side. His hands glide up her arms and he can feel her skin tighten, goosebumps. Her nipples are hard, almost painfully hard. He slides his hands over her breasts and slowly strums his fingers over her hard nipples. She inhales and it is sweet music to his ears. She is his instrument and he is about to queue up the orchestra she will become.
The sundress she is wearing is loose around the arms. He is able to pull the front of her dress together to expose her breasts that are slightly hanging because of how she is leaning. With a small clip he is able to fasten the cloth together. His hands continue to explorer her curves. Her dress is loose fitting. She feels her dress start to slide up her thighs, she cannot contain herself but she must comply. His hands glide over skin, her curves, the smoothness of her preparations. He enjoys every nook, and she becomes more wet. His hands that have drifted to her ankles now rise to her inner thighs. With a subtle move to her vagina she feels his fingers penetrate her lips. She can feel how wet she is and begins to blush. With a hint of embarrassment she can't believe she is that wet. She instinctively widens her stance. She can feel that he has fastened her dress from behind so that no part of it is hanging. He pushes her lower on to the desk where she is now resting on her elbows and the back arms. He adjusts her so that her face is free to hang down or rest on her forearms. Her breasts are completely free and hanging and with her widened stance he says three words, "a little lower".
He applies slight pressure to the back of her hips in a downward motion and she complies. Her lips are swollen, her clit is swollen and shines with the level of 'wet' that everything has become. He sit on the floor making sure to come up between her legs without her feeling his positioning. He playfully breathes on her lips and he sees her shutter. He watches as her vagina contracts. 'She is ready' he thinks to himself. His lips connect to hers and she pushes down against his mouth. She starts to breathe heavily. He says, "you must ask permission to cum", she says, "okay". In reality she would have said 'yes' to anything he said at this point. In disbelief she tries to pull away from him because she is about to come. With the surprise in her voice she says, "wait, I'm going to cum". He stops. She utters beneath her voice, "oh my god". He asks, "can you tell me what it feels like when I lick you?", she says, "yes". "Then when I start again tell me what you feel, as much detail as you can until it is time for you to cum then you may do so.". She is turned on by his instructions, "okay".
He pulls her hips and lips back into his mouth and he has increased the suction he is using on her clit. "Oh", she breaths in and exhales, "your sucking my clit." He is sucking but creating space between his tongue and her clit. Where suction exist and the pressure of the suction is there but no contact, and slowly he starts to reach out with his tongue to lick specific areas of her clit, the top, the hood, the bottom, in different motions. "Oh, your licking different areas, but your sucking isn't stopping." her voice is trembling. "Oh fuck", she doesn't think she will make it much longer. She starts to say, "I'm cumming, I...", but before she can get out another syllable he pushes hard on her clit, increases the friction and she cums on his mouth. Her vagina convulses and contracts. Her hips contract down as she is cumming. His hands strum her nipples as they hang. This is how you play this instrument, the beautiful music she makes when played properly', runs through his mind, 'She is beautiful, she is powerful.'. She came again almost seconds after she thought she had finished and begins to tremble. She contract over and over again with a final exclamation to end this round.
Slowly he works his way back to his feet. She is still breathing heavily as he fondles her breasts. They are beautifully large and have a great shape as gravity pulls on them. He pinches her nipples very hard with two fingers and with the rest of his hand palms with great pressure the rest of her breasts and pulls her up to stand. She is still blind folded. He turns her to her left and makes her walk to the window. He makes her put her hands on the window and makes her lean slightly on the window. He tells her, "don't move". Everything falls silent. The glass is a bit warm as the sun starts to do its thing against the glass. A flash of concern crosses her mind, 'is this really just a one way mirror?'. She knows that she cannot see in when she arrives and tries to calm herself as that electricity mounts, the unknown, the exposure. She smiles because it is exhilarating. He taps her feet to widen. He click something on and there is a low hum. She looks over her shoulder instinctively but cannot see. He has a toy for her. He inserts the toy, in and out and she can feel the vibration of it. He asks her, "can you hold this inside of you if I let go?", she whispers to him, "yes". "Do you trust me?", he asks and she replies, "yes". "Don't move no matter what you hear.", "okay" she whispers to him.
He lets go and her concentration is on holding it in. The feeling that she gets when she contracts is a constant and is steadily rising. The door lock clanks. She thinks, 'did he unlock the door?'. Her electricity of the moment is off the charts. It is like a noise that seems to be too loud. He returns just as she loses her grip on her toy. He slowly pushes it deep inside of her. She asks, "did you unlock the door?..." she was only able to make it to the second word when she started to finish again. He is now seated in front of her and starts sucking on her breasts. She stands and is about to take off her mask and ask again, "did you unlock the door?", his reply is, as he grabs her wrists, "do you trust me?". She concedes, "yes". He pulls her wrists behind her and pulls her close to him. He says, "sit down slowly", she starts to sit and he inserts her toy again. The vibration is considerably lower but she is very sensitive and can feel it the same. He pulls her close to him, and kisses her. She is mesmerized by his feel. She loves his lips on hers, and with a slight taste of herself she is on fire for him. He whispers to her, "I want you kissing me the next time you cum. I want to feel your breathing change as you cum. I want to hear your voice whisper that you are cumming. I want to know what it feels like to embrace your essence."
His words hit her hard. They echo quietly in her mind, she has never heard anything like that. Her pleasure grows as the low hum in the air gets louder. Her concern for this connection grows with each breath that brings her to a climax. In front of a one way mirror to the street, with an 'unlocked' door, sitting on this man that has my pleasure at all volumes, and he says the craziest line she has ever heard, all she can do, is cum. They break from kissing as her entire body contracts and whispers in a sweet and low voice, "I'm cumming", she lays her head on his shoulder and repeats it over and over again as he releases her hands and embraces her.
Moments later he is back to work, and she is driving away. She is consumed with replaying every minute of what she just went through. It was amazing, exciting, mind blowing, she simply runs through every adjective she can think of. She tries to wrap her brain around it. How something so fantastic can be had. The fantasy of it all. She has much to think about as the two are separated again, in their orbit around their passion. She hopes that it does not last as long as the last time. She utters out loud the most maddening part of these last two entanglements, "he still won't let me touch him". With that subtle realization she comes to the conclusion that she is either addicted to him and what he does or falling in love with him. Deep down she prays it's just an addiction. She can deal an addiction. In the mean time she is going to enjoy this as long as she can. She is beautiful, powerful, and she roars, 'yeah I just roared all over the office.' she thinks to herself and she laughs. 
The end.
~Ivory
