What I Want?

I was walking back from class on Tuesday, a little past 7pm, when my phone buzzed. I hate most ring sounds I hear, so I keep mine vibrate. Anyway, I looked at the number and it was local, but not someone I know. Thinking it was a wrong number, I almost didn’t answer it. I wonder now how I’d feel about things if I hadn’t answered, if I had passed up this chance.

The conversation was short. The caller was a friend I met online who lived in the area, Stacy. We’d talked on and off for a while and even met for coffee once. There was no real chance of any sort of ‘romantic connection’; Stacy’s a confirmed and happy-to-be-so lesbian. I knew this right from the get go, but I hadn’t started talking to her thinking of sex. We met on a blog/diary site, or more like I stumbled across her writings and was hooked.

Anyway, on and off we talked online for a few months and like I said even met once for coffee. There’s just something about her that I can’t put my finger on. Perhaps it’s the things she written about and how I wish I could write so honestly. Perhaps it’s that I know there’s no chance she’s sexually interested in me and so she’s safe – that is, I can relax more and be more ‘me’. I’ve no idea really, but then, you probably don’t care. I mean, that’s not why you’re reading this.

In one of our chats, I brought up a little semi-fetish that I have. I find it a bit hard to explain, because everyone seems to blow it off as either me just being weird or no big deal. I’m fascinated by a sort of power exchange, to use a BDSM term. Specifically, I'm interested in the idea of someone else being in control of when/where/how often I orgasm.

I know it does sound kind of silly and nothing that bizarre, but let me ask you a couple things: Does the idea of being denied orgasm for days on end appeal? What if you toss in lots of teasing, that is being taken to the edge, but not over? Say teased three times a day every day for a week with no orgasm relief? That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about. By itself I’m sure it’s probably not all that kinky, but imagine how horny and worked up you’d be? Let’s just say it’s very easy to delve into other kinkier aspects of BDSM that one might not normally consider when in such a state.

Anyway, back to the call. Her reason for calling was simple. She’d recalled our conversation about my teasing/control fetish and she was wondering if I still felt that way about things. Without a doubt I did and I must say my heart started to race a little as horribly naughty thoughts filled my head.

In the conversation we’d had, I’d said something like, “I’d love to please you and you’d not have to do a thing, ever.” All those images I had during that simple netchat came back. The idea of orally pleasing a woman, her, and being sent home after she was done.. perhaps with permission to masturbate, but perhaps not. Thoughts of her touching, teasing me and how I’ve always wanted to experience such things first hand. Up to now, I’ve just read stories and dabbled with ‘online relationships’. I knew reality would be far different and, I hoped, far more erotic.

I could tell she was pleased that I still thought about such things. I’m sure she was nervous; after all it was a pretty quirky call to make. She cut to the chase and said, why don’t I come over at about 9 tonight and we’d talk about things. She said she’d email me directions and would see me then.

I was left standing on the sidewalk outside my apartment speechless. Two conflicting thoughts dominated my mind. The first was to run upstairs and see the email she sent. The second was to go to the bathroom and masturbate – keep in mind, this is kind of like a wet dream coming true for me.

I decided to read the email first, perhaps thinking she’d just been kidding with me. She wasn’t. The email was there, directions to her house and a final line saying ‘behave until we’ve had a chance to talk’. The meaning was clear, until we talked tonight, no masturbation. Other than that, no clues in her email about what tonight might be about.

I was still leery; things like this don’t happen to me. I spent the next hour and twenty minutes running through various scenarios. Some of them were good, some of them weren’t. I’m not ashamed to say I was hard nearly the whole time and did behave myself.

I got to her place early; I hate to be late for anything. I looked at her door from the street and wondered if I was really going to get the chance to explore a side of me I’ve always wanted to know better. I slowly walked to the door, palms sweaty, and knocked.

Just like any to friends she answered the door, we said hi and I was invited in. She could tell I was nervous and this seemed to make her calm. Without a doubt there was an awkward pause and then she asked if I’d like to sit, gesturing towards the couch. I’m not sure of all we chatted about at first, my head was swimming.

She got up and went into another room and came back with this little impish grin on her face. While I’d been semi-hard up to now, I found myself fully so. I swallowed.

“So,” She said, “would you like to know why I called you?”

I nodded, “Of course.” I was trying not to sound too silly and nervous.

“You remember the chat, the one where you made some offers to me? Wanted me to help you ‘explore’ things?” Her eyes were intense; I could tell she was enjoying this.

“Yes, I do..” I could feel my mouth going dry.

“The one were you said you’d please me and I’d just have to lay back, moan and groan and enjoy?”

I nodded again, with a very soft, “Yes..”

I almost flinched, being so wound up, when her hand came from behind her back and she tossed a thin strip of cloth onto my lap. I picked it up and looked it over, nothing special. It was folded over a time or two until it was about three inches wide and about fifteen inches long.

“Guess what that is.”

I swallowed and looked up, “A blindfold?”

She smiles and nodded. “If you want to talk about things, put that on. If you don’t, then don’t.” She kept smiling at me, knowing there was no doubt in what I’d choose. “I’m going to go potty while you decide. Then, I’m going to put in a movie, Nightmare Before Christmas.”

I looked down at the cloth as she went into the bathroom, unsure if I should say something or what to do. Without a doubt, this could be the opportunity of a lifetime, but that also made it scary. I wasn’t at all sure I was ready for this. Without a doubt, the hormones in my blood made the deciding vote and on went the blindfold.

I’ve never felt so silly, sitting on a couch in an apartment I’ve never been too before blindfolded and having a full erection. The toilet flushed and I almost pulled the blindfold off, but soon it would be too late for that. I fidgeted in my seat, hoping she wouldn’t come out and laugh.

I listened to the door open and waited. She said nothing. I heard her moving about the room, changing the TV. channel and starting the movie. That was a bit surreal. Listening to the opening of Nightmare Before Christmas and thinking the thoughts I was. I began to wonder if this was a dream.

I heard her walk to the kitchen and fix herself a drink and then sit on the couch. My spot on the couch was against one arm and I felt her sit down at the other end. I was confused, was she going to watch the movie and then we’d talk?

I did jump, startled, as I felt her feet rest themselves on my lap. Her left foot happened to land right on my cock, which twitched quite happily at the attention. Thankfully she didn't just drop her feet, but rested them gently. I swallowed and waited.

Finally she spoke, “You seem awful nervous, are you sure you’re ok with this?”

I nodded, “Yes, I’m nervous, scared even. But, yes I’m ok.”

Her heel wiggled on my cock, “It’s quite an idea, the idea of having a toy to come over and please me when I’m horny. Heck I wouldn’t even have to clean anything up.” I nodded and licked my lips. “It’s an even bigger idea having control of a cock. True, I have no real use for it, but it’s intriguing nonetheless.” She paused and I felt the urge, the need, to start blurting things out, to try and explain what I was thinking.

She started talking before I could, “You know I’m not cruel, but I’d not give you permission often? And I don’t want you think this is some straight-guys wet dream – You aren’t going to turn my straight or fuck me – never. Right?”

My hands were clutching each other across my belly, knuckles semi-white. I couldn’t find my voice to speak at first, but finally got out, “Yes, I know. We talked about that.” I swallowed, “I-I-I even suggested the blindfold..”

She laughed a bit, “What’s wrong? Oh, my foot?” I sighed as she moved it, no longer letting it touch my cock. “I’m going to send you an email after tonight. It has the rules. You can read it over... and let me know. If you agree, I want you to sign it and hand it back. If you’re not interested, we’ll just forget to night and things will go back to normal.”

I nodded, knowing full well things would not be ‘normal’ again. How could they?

“Now, be a dear and rub my feet.”

With slightly shaky hands, I started to rub her feet, both hands on one foot at a time. I’m in no way an expert in such things, so it took a bit of time to get straight what felt good, what tickled. Thinking having this movie on was surreal before was wrong, this was surreal.

We sat in silence. Now and then she’d move her feet, offering my blind hands which one to rub next. Soft little moans gave me the cues to what she liked. I must say, I found the whole thing intense erotic. I just wished I could have seen her face, to see what expressions it had.

About half an hour later, perhaps a bit more, she squirmed and moved on the couch. I stopped rubbing, thinking she as getting up, but she didn’t. A new wave of nerves hit me. I’d really settled down while listening to the movie, her sounds and rubbing. Her feet pressed hard into my leg and I realized she was lifting up her rump and sliding her pants down.

I wondered if something I’d dreamed of doing was going with her to come true. Well, not just dreamed, but masturbated to. Her feet pushed back at my hands and I started to rub again.

That’s when what no doubt will rank for a long, long time as one of my top erotic memories happened – she let out this moan and I knew she was touching herself. I wanted to spurt, to cum right then and there. I wanted to move, to join her in touching, but I didn’t. I just kept rubbing her feet and feeling my cock gently throb as it wanted attention, balls aching ever so slightly.

She lifted the foot I wasn’t rubbing up to my face, my mouth. I need little prodding to get what she wanted. I kissed her toes, soft light kisses. She moaned louder and pushed her toes against my lips. My lips parted and for the first time I suckled her toe, bathing it with my tongue. My hands left her foot and held her by the ankle, so her foot wouldn’t leave my lips.

Toe by toe, I licked and sucked each one. Then kisses up and down the side, the arch, the heel – all over. Her leg would twitch when I tickled and I tried to learn, to not repeat the tickling.

Louder and louder she moaned. Her scent just adding to my growing lust – impotent lust. In and out my mouth I sucked her big toe, like giving it a blowjob. Her other foot found my cock. Her toes curling on it, teasingly maddening. I couldn’t believe it when she came.

The words here don’t really do justice to the scene, to what I felt and what I hope she felt.

I’ve no idea how long this went on, but the movie was over. I wanted to beg her to let me go masturbate in the bathroom. My hands were shaking as they held her foot to my lips. My own breathing nearly as heavy, as panting, as hers.

Every sound she made was just so magnified to me, so sexual, so intense. I wondered if I might cum in my pants without touching, it certainly feels like I might.

Her leg pushes lightly down and I let it rest in my lap, hands lightly rubbing her skin that’s slick with my salvia. The TV clicks off and we sit in silence for a moment. I want to speak, to say something, but I sense I shouldn’t. She moves, no doubt pulling her pants up. I feel her lean towards me and I bite my lip wondering what’s next. I can’t believe so much as happened and we’ve hardly even spoken.

I feel the lightest touch of a finger, perhaps two, on my rock hard cock. It begs for more, twitching. I hear you chuckle softly and say the words I’ve been unknowingly dreading, “Well, the movie is over, time for you to go.”

Getting up and going home, is all a blur. The first thing I really remember doing is sitting at my desk and reading the rules over and over – wondering if this is really what I want.