the scarf series
prelude to a scarf
6.5 inches wide. over 4 feet in length. fringed. teeming slender, corded ivory-coloured fringes. glimmering fringes. luxurious. abundant. a colourful, visual orgasm. an orgy of gold, pink, green, indigo and shimmering ivory. paisley, tiny flowers and delicate curves. like a woman’s body. sublimely sensual.
she held the scarf loosely with both hands. then pressed her nose and face gently against it. a faint scent of roses lingered on the shimmering scarf. silky. and erotic, the way it ribboned onto itself when she gently dropped it onto her bare, pulsing skin.
she closed her eyes. she caressed the scarf. studied its soft silky creases with the tips of her slender pink fingers. gently. slowly. with certitude. quiet certitude. she places the scarf over her eyes. then ties it in place.
a sea of smoothness. she slowly ran her fingertips along herself. silky. gently pulsing. soft petals. plump lotus flower. hers. bathing in her own slippery dew.
acid lust - prologue
she mused of being blindfolded and restrained with ropes. fantasized out loud. musing. fantasizing. rolling the scenarios around her mind. letting the taste of these images sink into her soul.
he directed. implored her cooperation. and so, she acquesced. submitted herself. to the blinding of her vision. to the vulnerability of restraint. her spirit received the most equisite jolt when he fastened the blindfold over her eyes. pressing oh-so-gently. and then the restraints. wrists fastened crudely to the headboard.
an impotent reflexive panic gathered in her chest. a ghost from the past. she reminded herself of choice. of power in submission. her choice. her power. her panic evaporated into the gentle undulations of his soothing voice.
he painted his touch on her lips. slowly and gently with his fingertips. moving closer. closer still. his mouth kissing hers. soft. deep. he gave her a hungry kiss. a kiss so heavy, so burdened with an acid lust for more.
more? always more. always?
gripped by a sudden craving to please him. she wanted to please him. she smiled demurely. he gently tugged the scarf from her grip. and they both watched it slink away from her fingers in billowing movement.
he wrapped the scarf around her head twice, gently tugging on its end as he fastened it. no reflexive panic this time. soothing blindness - she could see only undulations in the light. no form. little shadow. and she focussed. a sea of smoothness. the silky scarf softly hugging her eyes.
focussed. she noticed her breathing. shorter, sharper respirations. in quicker succesion. she lost herself in the sounds of her own breathing. her breathing - it grounded her. he drew close. so close. and delicately caressed her lips with his own. a soft, succulent kiss on the mouth. slow. deep. heavy with desire.
a sliver of panic stabbed her. her mouth had its own unpleasant memories. tendrils of a ghost from the past stroked her fear. she remembered choice. trust. and power - hers. and her need to focus. she heard breathing. hers. his. and his scent filled her nostrils. and she knew. and she remembered.
her panic melted into the sound of his whispers. she heard herself breathing again. saw herself in the deepest corners of her Self. she did not need to close her eyes. the scarf. it soothed her. protected her. the faint scent of roses lingers.
cuming. thrilling crescendo. she silently squealed. pressing her pelvis into the bed. gently arching her back. he stroked her petals. with his gentle tongue. she held her breath. counting. 1-2-3-4-5 … then … losing count. the feeling, cuming, swept through her. a sensory explosion.