He spread his fingers apart and grazed his hands down around my breasts, along the curve of my waist, over my hips and behind me to the globes of my ass. My flesh bloomed under his touch, my nerves stretching under my skin to meet his caress. We had stayed apart for long days and long nights to keep me and my parents from harm's way. It was an agonizing eternity being in one another's company and staying apart. Now, we were completely alone, 30,000 feet above the earth and no one could see us. No one knew where we were.
He pulled me against him, pressing my hips into his. As his robe parted I felt the hard flesh of his cock against my belly. I accepted his desire for me, remembering his words. Through my yielding response he drew power. I would give myself over to him, believing that his body spoke in ways his words could not.
Tristan lowered me onto my back on the bed and dropped his wrap to the floor. The light in the room cast glowing highlights on his smooth skin and accentuated the definition of his subtly athletic build. I loved to watch his muscles move under his golden skin. Having his utter maleness towering over me was enough to spark the chain reaction of my body's lust. First I felt the warmth seep into my chest, then my nipples tightened and reached for him. The fire spread down my belly and fanned the flames inside my core, calling my clit into high alert. A fountain of warm wetness made ready to receive him.
"I don't think I tell you enough how beautiful you are." His eyes traveled over my body as if it was his whole world. "You remind me of . . . I don't know, maybe a fawn, or a colt. So natural and pure."
Take one average girl like me and put her on a mile-high bed with a textbook specimen of a gorgeous man, add lots of pampering and top it all with a compliment like that and you have a recipe for 'wow'. I was speechless. Please, oh please, don't ever come up for air. Whatever spell I've accidentally cast on you, please don't let it wear off.
Tristan took his place beside me on the big bed and stroked my side as I faced him. He started to kiss me, softly at first. Just glancing his lips over mine so that I could feel his soft lips and taste his minty tongue. His face was shaved baby-bottom smooth and his cologne was fresh and spicy in my nose. I murmured my appreciation into his mouth. Tongue to tongue we fueled our hunger with restrained urgency, neither of us wanting to hurry the moment.
Our hands strayed down each others' sides. Tristan's skin was smooth--perfect. I traced the muscles in his chest and twirled the soft curls of hair on his chest before I followed the golden line down his flat torso. He groaned when I twined my fingers in the silky bush of hair around the base of his shaft and lightly traced the side of his penis up toward the head. I ran my finger around the edge of his glans and over the tiny slit at the end. I found a warm drop waiting for me there and caught it on my fingertip. Bringing it to my mouth, I glossed my lips with it and kissed him. I felt him pull a deep breath as he tasted himself, as if the intimacy of it took his breath away.
He reached over the side of the bed to the floor and pulled the satin sash from my robe. There was a silk tassel on the end of the sash that he began to trail over my skin. It was a tickling sensation that raised goose bumps on my skin. "Have you ever been fucked blindfolded?" he asked me.
Before I could answer 'no' he continued. "Have you ever wondered what it was like to have the sense of sight deprived while a cock is smashing into your sweet, dripping pussy?"
Dear God, the words he could use so casually! I wasn't just hearing his hot questions, I was feeling each one deep inside the most primal part of my brain.
He dragged the tassel down my legs and pulled it over my clean shaven mons. I felt the threads cross my erect clit and one or two caught in the moisture of my cleft before he tugged it free. He raised himself over me, knees on either side of my hips and rocked the sash over my chest, the tassel swaying like a pendulum from one nipple to the other.
"I'm going to wrap this around your head and block your sight. Then I am going to tease you and play with your naked, succulent body until you beg me to fuck you. I want to hear you tell me how much you want it." He put the satin over my eyes and lifted my head from the pillow so he could bring the belt around again. I felt him tie the material at the side of my head. If I opened my eyes under the blindfold, all I saw was a red glow.
He gave me a deep, bruising kiss and began his journey down my body. I was already so excited I could easily have taken him there and then. But it was clear that wasn't his plan. I was faintly aware of the hum of the engines at first until his noises and his voice became the only sounds worth hearing. He nuzzled my neck with his nose and inhaled the perfume I had dabbled there. "Les Larmes Sacrées de Thebes," he whispered at my throat. "Do you know what that means?"
I shook my head.
"The Sacred Tears of Thebes. As far as I know, the phrase didn't exist until the house of Baccarat made it up for that perfume." He licked the hollow of my throat. "I would like to earn more of your sacred tears."
He remembered. The single tear of pure ecstasy that escaped my eye once before. I had come with such force it took me to a place where my emotion just welled from me, impossible to contain. It was at Brian's, when he had commanded me to masturbate myself to orgasm as he watched. I had let him into a secret place and the whole experience had overwhelmed me. It was only the beginning.
Tristan lingered at my breasts. I didn't know if it was because I couldn't see him or if he was exaggerating the sound, but he slurped at them noisily and made sounds as if he was devouring a delicious meal. He sucked on one while he twisted the other. When he pulled his mouth away he kept sucking until my nipple left his mouth with an audible pop. Before he left my chest he took each breast in turn and, holding on with one hand, he slapped with the other. The sting and the sound combined in an exquisite combination of sensory overload. My nipples contracted in tiny angry fists and he flicked them each once with his tongue as he headed south.
When he came to my navel, he poked his tongue deep into me. It was an odd sensation. He made his tongue rigid enough to trigger that feeling of attachment inside. I squirmed a little, I've never really liked having my belly button poked. He laughed and buzzed into me again. I tried to turn my waist so he'd move away.
"Ah . . . a weak spot. We'll save that for later," he chuckled. Then he blew a big raspberry onto my belly until I laughed hard. I was beginning to see that sex with Tristan could take many forms. He could blend the serious, the dominant, the gentle, and even the funny aspects of passion all in one compelling package.