The mystery girl 5 - Feeling his hard cock

“Hello?” she said quietly, yet loud enough to be heard even in the

bathroom.  There was no answer, just the sounds of an empty

street reaching from behind her.  Nobody seemed to be home.

Alexis knew better than that.  Tentatively she walked into the

room, and as her eyes adjusted she still couldn’t see anything but

vague bluish edges of shapes.  A bed, perhaps, a dresser,

maybe.  The drapes were closed and filtered out the streetlight

very effectively.

Her insides perked with curiosity and anticipation. This was going

to be interesting.  Just then, the blanket of silence was pierced

with a joltingly sudden, yet reassuringly soft voice,

“Hello Alexis.  Come in, make yourself comfortable.”

She closed the door behind her and the blackness became

complete.  His soft voice had come from the region where she

believed the bed to be.  She took short, quiet steps in the

direction from whence his call had come, until her knee touched a

soft blanket - the bed.  She reached out and her hand came into

contact with the unmistakable, warm sensation of skin.  It was his

thigh.  She found the entire scenario intensely interesting, and

what made it so was the fact that she could see nothing, all she

could do was feel, and hear, and imagine - and wait for what was

coming next.  At the moment all she could hear was the rush of

the blood in her arteries, and the heat of another body to her

right.

She slithered out of her jacket and tossed it somewhere into the black

void.  She was extremely curious as to how naked this guy really

was.  He had told her he had a few surprises up his sleeve, but

had said no more.  She could tell already it would be a good

night, and slid beside him on the bed.

She lightly stroked his thigh in longer and longer strokes, trying to

find the edge of some clothing, but finding none.  He sat quiet,

letting her explore his body on her own, enjoying the forwardness

of this unique exchange beginning to happen.  The moments

became longer and more intimate as she let her fingertips skim

across his body, feeling its curves and crevices…yet avoiding the

one place that would soon become the center of their witching

hour union.  She whispered into the waiting air, “I like the feel of

your body…you feel so nice.  I’ve been looking forward to this

meeting for weeks.”  At the sound of her confident and wicked

voice, he responded by taking his hand and putting it lightly on

her back.  The touch was electric, both from her anticipation and

from the lack of visual input.  It was her millions of goosebumps

which spoke to her mind now, as he moved his hand in slow,

warm circles.  The anticipation was really starting to get to her,

the maddening blindfold of darkness, and she became inpatient

with this game.