Sarah’s eyes widened—I was sure, for a moment, I saw real fear in them, but they turned teasing almost immediately, and so did her tone. “Oh no, you don’t!”
“Why not?” I teased back, leaning in nuzzle her ear, whispering, “Wouldn’t it be hot? You and me pressing up against him…”
“A him, maybe,” Sarah agreed, her hand sliding further up my thigh-it was couldn’t go much further, wedged like it was in the crease like that. The thought of being with Sarah and a man had my pussy throbbing with lust. “That him? Out of the question.”
“You know how I love a challenge,” I whispered, nibbling on her earlobe, feeling her shiver. God, I loved making her shiver. “How fast can I turn maybe into yes?”
“Not tonight.” Sarah’s finger nudged the elastic band of my panty leg aside, searching through the soft, red plethora of pubic hair, looking for wetness.
“Why not?” I asked, distracted now by her fingers as they parted my pussy lips under the cover of the table, the darkness making me feel bolder as I spread my legs wider for her.
“Because tonight, you’re mine,” she insisted, sliding a finger inside of me, making me moan against her neck. “Come on, Lizzie. Let’s get out of here.”
“But David-” I started to glance over my shoulder again, and Sarah’s other hand slipped behind my hair, pulling me in with her palm curled around the nape of my neck, and kissed me-hard.
“Forget about him.”
I blinked in surprise as she stood, rubbing her wet fingers—wet with my juices—against my lips. “Him… who?”
She had her hand up my skirt again while she drove us back to her apartment, tugging at my panties and rubbing the moist fabric. She would periodically lift her fingers to my mouth to let me suck them. It reminded me of the dizzying taste and feel of her sex, and I moaned and squeezed my legs together around her hand. I don’t know how we made it back without getting into an accident.
It was that night that she opened the chest. She was watching me undress, laying naked already on her bed, when she said, “Lizzie, I have to show you something.” I stopped mid-button, curious. “Close your eyes.” I obliged, standing at the end of the bed in nothing but my blue chambray shirt which was unbuttoned to my navel. She slipped a hand under my shirt and cupped my breast as she passed me, thumbing my nipple, and I shivered, feeling it harden immediately. I heard her fumbling around in the room, the air shifting as she walked past me to the far wall-a click, a deep creaking, the sound of Sarah kneeling.
“Open your eyes.” She was on her knees next to an open wooden chest, her legs slightly open, her hands resting on her thighs. “My hope chest.” Her smile was mischievous and, indeed, hopeful. It looked exactly like an old hope chest, the kind my grandmother had passed on to my mother, but instead of knitted doilies and linen, this hope chest was full of prurience and supplication. I was transfixed by the contents, almost as if she’d opened a chest of gold. The scent of it alone was alluring, the heavy redolent smell of leather and something deeper, more fully and secretly human.
I slowly sank to my knees beside her and we were motionless for a while, I don’t know how long, as I explored the contents with my eyes and she watched me. I felt her gaze on me, and realized I’d stopped breathing. I drew a deep and shaky breath and met her eyes. They were lustful and questioning and something else I’d never seen before and was a little afraid of. I told her so.
“Sarah, I… I’m a little scared.”
She nodded. “Yes.”
It wasn’t so much an acknowledgement of my fear as an affirmation. She wanted this. And there was a part of me that simply couldn’t tell her no. She reached into the box without a word and pulled out a black silk scarf. I’d never forget her slipping it over my eyes that first time, tying it behind my head.
“Can you see? Be honest.” Her voice had changed completely. It held element of confidence I’d never heard before. It stopped my breath. I couldn’t speak. I just shook my head.
“When I ask you a question, I want you to say, ‘Yes, Sarah,’ or ‘No, Sarah.’ Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sarah.” It was easier than I thought it would be.
“Can you see, Elizabeth?”
“No, Sarah.”
“Good. Now stand up.”
I struggled to my feet. It was strangely difficult without my sight.
“Good girl…now take off your shirt.”
I swallowed hard, managing the few remaining buttons, easing the shirt off my shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. I felt unbelievably exposed and crossed my arms over my breasts. I couldn’t see anything, but I could feel her disapproval.
“Ah Lizzie, you should see yourself,” she breathed and I felt her fingers brush lightly over my thighs. Then her voice changed again. “Put your hands behind your back,” she commanded. I was more reluctant now, but I did it.
“Spread your legs… further… good.”
Her hands roughly massaged between my legs, and I felt a cold rush of air when she spread my lips wide for a moment. I wondered if she was inspecting me. That’s what it felt like as her hands ran over my body, a little roughly at times, pushing my foot out a little further, turning my shoulder, tilting my head with her hand.
“Mm… yes…” she breathed, her face close to mine now. I felt the warmth of her and remembered how much I’d wanted her tonight. I still wanted her, but my desire seemed secondary to this new feeling in my belly. I had no idea what it was.
“Elizabeth, I don’t want you to move. Do you understand?” I nodded. I could tell she was waiting. “Elizabeth?” Then I remembered.
“Yes, Sarah.” I said hastily. The hard sting of her hand on my bottom brought tears to my eyes, more from surprise than pain and I whimpered.
“Don’t move.” I didn’t. She left the room, and still, I didn’t move. What was keeping me there? I wondered. I could walk away if I wanted to. Take off the blindfold, go lay on the bed, call Sarah back in, snuggle and make love and doze. I knew I could, and she would be okay with it.
But this was appealing to me, even as it was strange and uncomfortable and a little humiliating. I could tell it excited her. I heard it in her voice, felt it in the new way she touched me. And I wanted more of that. So I stood still and I waited, legs spread, blindfolded, my hands behind my back.
My other senses seemed heightened without the use of my eyes. I heard her moving around in the other room, going through drawers. She came back in and I stiffened slightly, trying to control my movement, even my breathing. I smelled the sulfur of a match being lit, heard the sound of her shuffling through the chest and, in my mouth, tasted the lingering musk of myself licked from her fingers. I swallowed.
“Find your way to the bed and lay down.”
The sound of her voice startled me. I made my way slowly, my knees hitting the edge before I crawled onto the bed.
“On your belly,” she instructed.
On my stomach, the sheets cool under my skin, I was now very aware of the wet throbbing between my legs. Oh God, this was so exciting. I could almost feel her eyes on me.
“Spread your legs.”
I opened them. She knelt behind me, spreading my legs even wider with her knees.
“Up.” She put her hand between my legs, cupping my sex and lifting slightly. I raised my bottom in the air, my breasts still pressing into the bed, the blindfold shifting slightly when I turned my head. I wanted her to touch me. I wanted her hands, her mouth, her soft, skilled tongue. My thighs trembled.
“Touch yourself,” she said.
I reached between my legs and slid my fingers through my wetness, immediately heading for my aching little clit.