I can feel the fabric pulled tight across my eyes. Anticipation making my fingers twitch as I fight the urge to lift the blindfold before you command me to, your last words still sat in my ears.
“Do not remove that until I tell you too, or else you won’t get your treat.”
You left straight after that, leaving me alone in this hotel room in nothing but my jockey shorts and the tied fabric around my head, perched on the edge of the grandest wingback armchair I’d ever seen in a place like this. You didn’t even acknowledge my affirmation to your instruction, closing the door before I had finished meekly whispering ‘mistress’.
The darkness heightened my hearing, and my heart raced at every footstep in the corridor beyond the thin walls. Every passing set of falling feet was jubilation and dejection in an instant. Every glimmer of hope made my soft dick twitch into life and each pang of loneliness caused my heart to sink again.
I tried to picture what you were up to. Were you slipping into something less comfortable, more lacy, and a lot more revealing? Had you gone down to the bar to fetch a bottle of cheap bubbly for me to lap up from your delicate flesh as you slowly drizzled it over your blushed cunt? Or have you just decided to leave me here, taken our submissive role reversal a little too literally, and sought solace in someone else’s arms this evening?
I was half right…
The hairs on the back of my neck stand and a shiver of excitement runs down my spine as I hear the unmistakable click of the room card in the door handle slot, followed by muffled giggles and shushes. I can make out the luxury carpet pile being dragged under the heavy door as it is slowly pushed open. My straining ears pick out light breathing, the shuffle of movement in front of me, the instantly recognisable clink of a belt being undone, the crumpled fall of clothes to the floor, and the soft, deep, wet kisses of two people who are going to fuck.
“I’m still watching you,” your voice booms in my ears, “don’t you fucking touch that tie until I say so.”
I’m burning with emotion. Rage, lust, need, fear, resentment, excitement. I’m dumbfounded and awestruck and almost broken by the sound of another man paying you compliments, telling you how good your skin smells, how full your perfect breasts are, how good you feel in his arms, and just how wet he’s made you. I recognise his sounds straight away and I know that you’re on your knees in front of him, running your lips along the underside of his stiffening cock, inhaling his scent, and counting the thick veins that run along his length. I try to picture his dick. Is he bigger than me? Thicker than me? What will it look like when you wrap your lips around his throbbing head? Will you struggle to take him into your throat like you do with me…? Jealousy sets my insides alight and my mind runs away with itself as I hear you spit on his erection and begin to noisily work his shaft with your hand.
“Take your cock out, slave.”
My fists are clenched, knuckles white with uncertainty.
“Did you fucking hear me?!” You punctuate every word as if it was the end of a sentence. “Take your fucking cock out and stand up. I want to compare them.”
My curiosity and lust supersede the envy I’m feeling, and I obey, hoping that the dick you’ve got in your hands doesn’t overshadow my own. I stand and hesitantly drop my shorts to the floor, my taut erection betraying the shame I can’t help but feel. I can hear you both shuffle over towards me. Damn this fucking blindfold!
He’s close to me. I can smell his cologne, it’s floral and strong, but not as strong as the heat I can feel coming from him. You’ve lined him up right in front of me, so much so I can almost feel his hip touch the end of my cock… I sway to my right a bit and, yes, there it is! His dick is right next to mine. I swell a little bit more at the thought of this stranger's penis touching mine and my thoughts turn to holding them together, running my fingertips around our shafts and squeezing them tight. Just as I go to reach out a hand, you issue another command.