Blind Trust — Part One

From Silence to Sweet Surrender: Literotica by Jasmine Amour

Trust is not born in a single encounter with a man, nor even after two. It grows quietly over time, nurtured through shared moments, gentle patience, and mutual understanding. With Mr R, we had reached that rare place where words were no longer necessary. Through our regular meetings, we had explored new experiences together, each one strengthening a foundation built on respect, kindness, and careful communication.

By now he knew me intimately; my rhythms, my boundaries, my desires. And I knew two things without question: his deepest intention was always my pleasure, and he would never betray my trust.

This time, however, he wished to test that trust.

He made two requests. First, that I answer the door wearing nothing but a trench coat and heels. Second, that I greet him with a smile, but I was not to utter a single word. I was to remain silent throughout our entire encounter.

Because I trusted him… I agreed.

True to my word, I opened the door and no words were exchanged. He leaned in for a kiss, yet paused just short of my lips. Our breath mingled in the narrow space between us, tension thickening with every heartbeat. Before we could touch, he turned me gently and pressed his already rock-hard erection into the small of my back. He restrained my arms by my sides.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured.

So, I did as I was told.

A blindfold settled over my eyes, and darkness immediately sharpened every other sense. He guided me forward until the cool marble of the kitchen counter met my skin. At my ankles, he nudged my feet apart. I could barely remain upright in my heels as his hands traced slow paths upward along my calves and thighs. Each touch sent tremors through me. My knees threatened to buckle underneath me as his touch quite literally made me weak.

With deliberate care, he loosened the belt of my coat. The zipper descended at an agonising pace. Fabric slipped from my shoulders and pooled at my feet, leaving my bare breasts now completely exposed to him. They felt heavy and achy, in desperate need of his touch. But Mr R delighted in making me wait. With parted lips and bated breath, I stood naked in the kitchen wearing nothing but my heels, waiting for what was to come.

With a feathered wand, he began to trace light circles and patterns over my entire body. As the anticipation built up and up, a slow-burning passion grew deep inside me. I wanted more. I tilted my hips towards him, pleading silently for him to enter me right now. But he was determined to make me wait. He swirled the feathers around and around and finally he brushed them against my swollen lips. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more. How much more of this teasing could I endure?

Just when I thought I would have to break the rules (and my vow of silence), and beg for him to fuck me, he lifted me onto the kitchen counter. I felt him spread my legs apart and place one foot on each kitchen stool so that my little pink pussy was completely open to him. I waited in the silence. And then came his mouth, hot and wet against my already throbbing pussy. Finally!

As his warmth engulfed me, I shuddered with grateful appreciation. He started off slow, lightly pressing his soft lips to my clitoris. Then he would stop, and make me gasp in exasperation. Again, he began to caress my body with the feather wand. I willed him to return to my clit once more, but he seemed intent on tormenting me. I squirmed about, trying to bring his attention back to the task between my legs. We both knew he had me right where he wanted me. I was putty in his hands. He teased my nipples into tight peaks as my back arched on the countertop. I could feel the cool air-con brushing against them, hardening them even further. Still, not a word was spoken. The apartment felt empty and silent, except for the quiet hum of the refrigerator and my soft whimpering moans as he continued to caress me slowly.

It felt like he’d been teasing me for hours. I think he could sense that I couldn’t take any more of him depriving me. So, I finally pushed his head between my legs, a silent demand for him to pleasure me. This time he didn’t make me wait. I grabbed handfuls of his hair, and pulled him closer as I was grinding my pussy against his face. There was no room for politeness anymore. I needed him now! His tongue felt like heaven stroking and swirling across my clit.

With my blindfold in place, I couldn't see a thing. But in my mind’s eye was a picture of me displayed for him on the kitchen counter. Presented like a delicious dessert on a silver platter. My legs spread wide and totally open for him to savour my sweetness at his leisure. I was at his complete mercy and I was going to enjoy every single minute of it. Through my blindfold I could see small flashes of light creep in every now and then, and I suddenly became acutely aware that the curtains were slightly drawn. For a moment, I considered that the neighbours in other apartments might be watching us. But I was drunk with lust and I just didn't care. Let them enjoy the show!

As he continued to lick, kiss, and suck my pussy with expert skill and tenderness, still no words were exchanged by either of us. In the darkness, all that existed was the two of us. The sight deprivation and loss of verbal communication forced us to connect on a different level. It felt profoundly intense. Sacred. Almost spiritual. We were communicating in the dark and in the silence, solely through our bodies and energies. The universal language of lust.

A scenario played out in my mind of a stranger coming into my house in the middle of the night, and me wordlessly following his every lead without resistance, as though in a trance. I was under his spell: a slave to his every whim. Except he was a stranger that I somehow knew. From a past life maybe? I felt that our souls were inextricably linked and I knew I could trust him. Complete trust that he would only inflict on me absolute pleasure. All the things I liked and nothing that I didn’t. Handing all that trust to someone willingly felt like a relief… The sweetest surrender.

Mr R’s warm, wet mouth pulled me out of the fantasy and brought me back to the present. Somehow, I had lost myself in the way he was making me feel. Every cell of my body was alive with sensation and it was doing strange but wonderful things to my mind. His tongue picked up the pace, sending me into overdrive. Then all at once it felt like the crescendo was coming. “Slow down babe, I don’t want it to be over just yet.”

Oh no. My hand went up to my mouth in shock as I realised I had just broken his rule. He grabbed my wrist firmly and I knew it was a warning to keep my mouth shut. His dominance and control only made it all the more sexy.

I knew he was about to punish me for my defiance. He took his mouth away from me and the sudden absence was palpable. My pussy throbbed and pulsated without his touch. I arched my back further, straining to get near enough to him to make contact once again. Minutes felt like hours, until finally he flicked his tongue lightly against my clit. But just as quickly as I had felt it, it was gone again.

Had he actually licked me? Or was I yearning for him so badly that I had imagined it? No, there it was again. A flick of the tongue followed by a long pause, and then another flick yet again. Every touch followed by a moment of sweet torture while I longed for the next touch. But when it came, that touch was exquisite! Almost enough, and yet not nearly enough at all. In the darkness, every sensation was heightened. Every moment bursting with bliss. Soon, the moments in between felt just as full with feeling and pleasure, as the touches themselves. My engorged pussy was practically pounding with hunger.

With my naked back pressed against the cold hard marble counter-top, Mr R’s constant pattern of licking and pausing was relentless. I knew I couldn’t hold on much longer. And he intuitively knew he didn’t have to do anything else. He didn’t increase the pace, or even the pressure. Eventually the lightest briefest flick of the tongue was enough to send me catapulting over the edge. I came with violent soul-shaking convulsions, wave after wave after wave…

~ ~ ~

As gently as it had begun, he soothed me afterwards with slow, tender caresses, guiding me back to stillness. My body trembled, every sensation lingering like a warm echo. My wetness dripped into a pool on the counter-top beneath me. My body was covered in goosebumps; my every need and desire sated. And as he placed a warm kiss in between my thighs, it was hard to remember a time when I’ve felt so satisfied and fulfilled.

When he finally lifted me from the counter, my legs unsteady, I followed him obediently as he led me toward the bedroom.

It had only just begun...