by Marie Gray
I was still in a kind of shock, but at this moment I felt completely, luxuriously fulfilled. I still couldn’t quite believe what was happening, but I was going to linger over every instant of triumph as much as possible. I went over to Daniel and embraced him with all the passion I felt welling up inside of me. I slid my thigh between his legs so I could delight in the feel of his delectable erection. I started unbuttoning his shirt and then, with a teasing, triumphant little smile, proceeded to remove every piece of his clothing. Then I told him he had to stay put and not move as I went and lay down alone on the bed.
“And now I’m going to continue what you made me stop doing last night, you naughty little tease.”
To my great surprise—and I must say, to my great satisfaction—the room began to spin very slowly. With a barely perceptible motion, the circular floor was now turning so that every spectator in the place could take in the view from all angles. With languid, catlike sensuality I stretched myself across the bed, spreading my wickedly booted legs as far apart as possible. At least fifty pairs of turned-on eyes were observing my every move. At least twenty cocks were getting good and hard right at this moment in anticipation of the show I was about to perform. This very thought caused my pussy to flower wide open and spill its juices onto the pink satin bedsheets. I freed my breasts from the restraining corset, letting them breathe and swell with pride. I stroked them momentarily and then both hands went irresistibly between my legs. With one hand I spread those moist lips apart so that a finger from the other hand could easily reach that little parcel of flesh that can make me come instantly if I so desire.
Daniel was allowing me to experience something I thought I could only dream about. I felt at once like an untouchable goddess of desire, and also like the lowest of whores. I imagined all those people out there breathing heavily because of what I was doing. I visualized couples fondling and making love behind those windows, so excited by the sight of my body, which was now inflamed with arousal. I felt irresistible.
Daniel came and joined me at the foot of the bed where he buried his face between my burning thighs. He lapped me up, bathed me in saliva, and penetrated me with his tongue and fingers. I couldn’t tell where the liquid flowed from anymore…the only thing I was aware of was the huge, rapidly building orgasm that would break at any second now. Daniel brought me to the brink of coming and then abruptly got up. He went to the top of the bed and grabbed both my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand so that there was no way I could give myself the orgasmic release I so desperately needed. With his free hand he began softly stroking my throat.
He kissed my shoulders and breasts with unbearable gentleness. My skin tingled as if a million tiny electric shocks, sparks of pleasure, were running over it. Then he began lightly stroking me with his fingertips, gently at first and then more insistently. To my immense relief, he finally got back onto the bed and returned to his unfinished business, knowing full well I was going to explode any second now and not wanting any audience member to be deprived of the visual treat. I felt the waves coursing through my entire body as I came with shuddering intensity under his mouth. My belly contracted interminably, my body was writhing against my will, and then, in the middle of it all, Daniel finally thrust himself inside of me.
He threw my legs over his shoulders and rode me in a frenzy. Then he turned me over, pulled me to the edge of the bed, and stood behind me.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, Daniel, it’s unbelievable…how did you know?”
“I’ll tell you someday.”
At this, he grasped my hips as hard as he could and pulled me toward him, shoving himself as far inside of me as he could get. He reached a hand underneath my body and found my still-engorged clitoris, which he fingered so expertly I was reeling out of my mind once more. I was less conscious now of the people watching us, but the awareness I still had of them increased my pleasure immeasurably. In an attempt to thank them for the honor they were doing me, I secretly dedicated each of Daniel’s thrusts to one of my anonymous admirers. Daniel shuddered inside of me. He felt enormous. He flipped me over onto my back and drove himself into me again, proceeding to ply my body into a series of different positions, taking me from every angle he could dream up…from the front, the back, underneath, sideways, and beyond. When he finally allowed me to push him onto his back and straddle him, I used every technique I knew to please him. I sat on top of him, stroking my clitoris good and hard as I worked myself into another climax. He held up his arms so I could grasp them for support as I slowly slid myself up and down on his cock, clutching it firmly with my pussy. I sped up the motion and his expression became incredulous. I put everything I had into making love with him at that moment—all the knowledge, love, gratitude, and tenderness I had in me. “Oh my baby, my love!” I cried out as I sped up faster and faster until we both came, Daniel throwing me onto my side just to give me a few ultimate thrusts.
Then the room was plunged into darkness. Lovely darkness! As much as I had appreciated the setting that had been created for us, I wanted the intimacy of darkness for this special moment that signaled the end of our first lovemaking experience. One of my most powerful fantasies had come to life and I was feeling just a little confused. Was it really me who had put on a show like that? I could barely believe it now and a flood of contradictory emotions overtook me. Daniel had given me something I had only dreamed of, but I was not certain I would ever want to do it again. The whole experience had been so intense, so incredibly mind-blowing that I was suddenly a little nervous about the whole thing. But the doubt could not cut through my euphoria. I was completely happy at this moment: amazed, fulfilled, and in love, and I would not have wanted to share this moment with anyone else but Daniel.
Daniel cradled me in his arms and stroked my hair, and there was no doubt at that moment that I wanted to be in those arms for a long, long time.
“You know, we could switch places. We could go behind the glass.”
“No, no…it wouldn’t be the same thing. Daniel, it was…I don’t know how to express it. I’ve been dreaming of something like that for years. Not in that kind of detail, of course, but something just as perfect. It was perfect! I’m so happy I got the chance to experience the fantasy once. How about you? Did you find it hard to do at all?”
“Not at all. It was a little uncomfortable at the beginning, to be sure, but then it felt just fine….Stay in my arms and rest for a bit, then I’ll take you on a tour. I have another surprise for you. By the way, do you want to spend the night with me?”
“As if you had to ask me!”
We lay there in each other’s arms, both of us in the same deeply satisfied state. All at once, I experienced an intense desire to go home. We weren’t going to spend the night here, so there was no point in prolonging our stay too much, and he had mentioned another surprise.
I followed Daniel into a little side room where we got dressed and tidied ourselves up a little. He asked me to keep the mask on, however, and I didn’t resist.
“How did you know about this place? Who thought this up?”
“That’s part of the surprise. Would you like the grand tour now?”
“Okay, but can we go back to your place soon?”
“Sure. It won’t take long, I promise.”
He led me down another corridor and then up a flight of stairs. We came to a circular corridor down which we could see numerous doors. These doors led into the theater boxes that had housed our audience members.
“Daniel, I don’t feel like watching another couple.”
“Shush! Follow me.”
He opened one of the doors and before I had time to say a thing, he flicked on a switch and the box was flooded with light. A man and woman, both masked, were standing inside with their arms around each other’s waists.
Mannequins.
We went to the next box and Daniel repeated the same process; we found two more mannequins dressed in evening wear, gloves, and a mask.<
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“This space belongs to a friend of mine who’s a clothing designer. He uses it to show clients his new collections. That way he doesn’t have to pay real models. Are you disappointed?”
I had to fight hard to contain the hysterical laughter that rose to escape from me. I swallowed hard several times before answering, “I think we’ve completely succeeded in making this one unforgettable evening.”
Midwinter Reverie
Bzzzz! Bzzzz!
Michele was dragged out of a deep sleep by the doorbell’s insistent buzzing. It was only eight-thirty on the first day off she had allowed herself in three weeks. Since her husband was away on a shoot outside the city for a few days, she could have easily slept in.
Bzzzz! Bzzzz! Bzzzz!
The intrusion was outrageously annoying. “Why can’t the world leave me in peace for just one day!” she wailed in complete exasperation. She was now in a filthy mood and the day had only just begun. Having no other choice, she forced herself up with a huge sigh of self-pity.
She pulled on her bathrobe, left the room, and descended the staircase, grumbling miserably the whole way. Through the little window beside the front door, she spied an enormous bouquet of white lilies nearly concealing the head of the young man who was delivering them.
“What? Who? Martin?”
She opened the door.
“Mrs. Blake?”
“Yes.”
“These are for you! Have a nice day!”
The flowers were magnificent, but the name of the florist was nowhere to be found. Michele shrugged her shoulders, thinking the omission was rather strange. She noticed a tiny envelope stuck to the transparent plastic wrapping and guessed what was inside before she even opened it: one of those bland little cards illustrated with flowers, ribbons, and little birds. She would bet any money that the card contained an uninspired little message scribbled in by some employee stating, “I love you, Martin.” In spite of these thoughts, she still felt somewhat placated by the gift, and of course she was curious.
It was no doubt another attempt on the part of her dear husband to reconcile with her; an unimaginative and predictable effort that would certainly not solve their problems, but an effort nonetheless. She would have appreciated a more original approach, but this sort of gesture was typical of the man she had married and secretly hoped would change over time. She remembered the old joke she had heard once long ago: “The main problem with marriage is that the woman gets married in the hopes that her man will change and the man gets married hoping the woman won’t.”
She finally detached the card. It was certainly small, but there was no design on it; it was completely white. She opened it up and found not the predictable “I love you, Martin,” but an enigmatic little message that read: “I’ve been watching you for some time now.” That was it—no signature, no initials, no “I love you” or “Forgive me.” “What does that mean,” she asked herself in complete bewilderment, “I’ve been watching you for some time now?” This wasn’t Martin’s usual terse, almost abrupt style, and it certainly wasn’t his “too neat” handwriting, either, which confirmed her suspicion that the message was probably dictated over the phone. But why was he suddenly being so mysterious?
The whole situation completely baffled her, and she stood by the door for quite some time puzzling over the mystery. Since she was fully awake now, there was no point going back to bed. She regretfully abandoned her plans for a lovely sleep-in and opted for the consolation of a nice hot bath instead.
The note contained in the card kept haunting her even as she stepped into a bathtub brimming with bubbles. When Martin had left the day before, the atmosphere had been pretty morose. The tension that had been building between the couple for a number of months had finally erupted into outright aggression. And why? She wasn’t really sure. It was probably the result of accumulated grievances that should have been aired long ago but had instead been suppressed, swallowed, stuffed down….Married for five years now, they both had careers they loved but that took up a lot of their time, so there were still no children. Things had been reasonably stable until quite recently, though. Michele suddenly realized she couldn’t remember the last time they had made love. It must have been about three months ago; just another one of those unfocused, almost mechanical endeavors, quickly expedited and pretty much devoid of passion. “And I guess that’s supposed to be my fault too,” she fumed, “because I work too much. Of course the man of the house cannot possibly be blamed for his dear wife’s dissatisfaction. His work takes up a lot of his time and energy as well but it’s too important to sacrifice, and my work doesn’t really matter as much, does it? The least I could do is find the energy to work sixty hours a week, solve all the little household problems, and last but not least, revive the love and ardor of my warrior king. What could be simpler?”
That morning everything had finally exploded. He had told her in no uncertain terms that he was at his wits end with her. And she, with even less tact, had admitted that he didn’t even excite her anymore. He had left then, and she had not heard from him since, except for this morning’s little demonstration. But the words he had used—were they proof of his desire, as much as she had failed to perceive it of late, to persevere with their relationship? Or was he making a gesture to counteract her accusation that he didn’t appreciate her? She had no idea; it just didn’t make any sense. Her husband hated lack of clarity or candor in any situation. He would often blurt out, “Say what you feel and then we’ll be done with it!”
“Well then,” she had to ask herself, “why is he being so strange and enigmatic all of a sudden?”
The riddle was starting to consume Michele, slowly but surely. She tried telling herself that she had better things to do than spend precious time worrying about Martin’s state of mind, but she couldn’t stop her brain from running in circles over the problem. It was now ten-thirty and her bath had done nothing to relax her. She began to pace like a lion in a cage, and then, just to add to her tension, the telephone rang.
It was Martin. His voice was soft, almost a murmur. Martin, who had a habit of bluntly stating the purpose of his call and then hanging up almost too abruptly, was suddenly acting unsure of himself. After the usual, pointless small talk, he finally took the plunge: “Michele, we have to talk.” He took a long, deep breath, hesitated for a second, and then began again. “I can’t concentrate…I miss you. I don’t want to lose you. I’m afraid.”
She was so astounded by this unexpected display of emotion that all the hostility she had felt toward him pretty much dissolved on the spot. She tried to soften her tone, the way he had.
“Martin, I’m scared too. What’s happening to us? Tell me, when did we stop talking to each other, and understanding each other? When did all of that change?”
“I’m going to try and come back sooner, okay? Today is Wednesday and I know we’re supposed to be shooting until next Thursday but I’m going to do everything I can to wrap it up earlier. I can’t live like this anymore, always wondering whether or not you’ll be there when I get back.”
“Of course I’ll still be here. We’ll just have to take some time to really talk heart-to-heart.”
“Okay. I love you and I’ll keep you posted. Take care of yourself. Promise me?”
“It’s a promise. Oh! I nearly forgot. Thanks.”
“For what?”
“You know…I got them today.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on! The flowers, of course.”
“What flowers? I never sent any flowers!”
There was no mistaking his tone; he was sincerely surprised.
“Okay, if you say so.”
“No, what do you mean? What flowers?” There was a pause and then he coldly continued, “You have an admirer?”
“Of course not! It must be Lisa or David. They know things haven’t been going so great these days.”
“Are you keeping something from me?”
“No
! Listen, I have to go now. You’ll call me?”
“Yes, I will. Talk to you soon.”
He really seemed serious about not knowing anything about that bouquet. But who else would have sent her those flowers? And that strange little message? Their best friends, David and Lisa, were not aware of their problems. Martin was not the type to play these kinds of little games and it was certainly unlike him to discuss their marital problems with others.
She was more obsessed than ever with the situation. Her conscience was bothering her, too. She remembered the harsh words that had been flung back and forth as Martin was leaving, and she now felt true remorse. During that last phone conversation, his desire to patch things up had seemed really sincere. She would make an effort too. Everything had been going so well up until…up until when exactly? She had been madly in love with this man. And then the passion had slowly metamorphosed into something more down to earth. Something deeper. Yes, she knew she still loved him, and he still attracted her, in spite of what she had pretended. But then, his lack of sexual interest in her was extremely hurtful and frustrating. Sex…it used to dissolve the tension and bring them together. It used to put all their petty little problems into perspective and, God knows, she missed it!
She was now far too unsettled to just stay home all day the way she had planned, although she knew she needed the rest, and tomorrow she’d be back at work again. She decided to go out after one more cup of coffee, which she’d drink in her favorite armchair, the morning paper spread out on the table before her.