Skip to main content

Blindfold




πŸ’—
 I’m not rushing, just… expectant 🀭 don’t be mean while I’m the one in a blindfold!

πŸ’™
“I’m only teasing you, darling,” I say as my fingers curl around your neck, guiding you closer. “I’d never be mean to you.”

πŸ’—
“Is that so?” I breathe, a soft gasp escaping as your fingers find my neck. Then, lower— “I’m very curious to see just how tender you can be.”

πŸ’™
I hum lowly, replacing my fingers with my lips but still barely touching. They graze the soft skin underneath your ear as I speak. “I can show you.”

πŸ’—
I can feel my cheeks flush, my breath growing lighter, every nerve tuned to you.
“Yes… I would like it if you did,” I whisper—barely holding the words together through the way you surprise me.

πŸ’™
I let my hand slide up your arm, fingertips light, and I can see the goosebumps rise on your milky skin. The blindfold only heightens everything you feel, urging me on to be extra fleeting with my touches.

πŸ’—
The slightest touch and my body answers for me—skin rising to meet your hand, breath fluttering through parted lips.
“You are not making this easy…” I whisper, no protest in my words. Only a wanting that starts to grow harder to hide.

πŸ’™
Fingertips barely graze your lips before coming to rest on your jaw, tilting your head up just enough for me to place kisses along the line of your neck.
“Some things are not meant to be easy, love, but enjoyable nonetheless,” I murmur against your skin.

πŸ’—
Your fingertips graze my lips and they part, a soft gasp slipping free.
The tilt of my head leaves me open, your kisses falling in their own pace until my breathing falls into step with yours.
The blindfold turns every moment into something sharper, closer.
When I answer, it’s soft and certain, carrying the weight of my surrender.
“Then… don’t stop.” I lean in the barest amount, my breath lingering against your skin.

πŸ’™
The way you reveal yourself to me, trusting me, is eating away my restraint. To have you in my arms like this feels intoxicating—an addiction I want to relish in.
My lips capture yours, slow at first, just enough pressure to ask for your tongue to dance with mine.

πŸ’—
Your lips are on mine and they part for you, warm and unhurried, yielding for your tongue when it comes.
You press closer, tasting me, breathing yourself into me—my breath catches, my body leaning into the pull.
My fingers find your chest, feeling the faster rise and fall beneath my touch, anchoring me to you. The blindfold turns every moment into something sharper, closer.
I break for air, just enough to murmur, “My love…” before finding you again.

πŸ’™
You’re already pressed flush against me, yet I want to feel you even more—closer, seemingly never enough.
I place my hands under your thighs, hoisting you up into my arms without breaking our kiss.
All the small sounds that you make and the feeling of your racing heart against mine… it almost makes me dizzy.
I sit you down on the edge of my desk, the room barely lit as the night engulfs us. Your hands slide over my chest, up to the hem of my already open shirt. I help you with shrugging it off completely, goosebumps rising where your hands touch my exposed skin.

πŸ’—
Your lift leaves me weightless, the kiss the only thing keeping me here.
Your shirt slips from my hands and I keep touching you, as if you’d fade if I let go.
I’ve wanted this… wanted you. But I stayed back, kept my distance, and now you’re here, warm under my palms, real in a way I only dared imagine.
I find your neck with my lips, catching the familiar scent that I’ve thought about more than I’ll ever admit. I press a kiss there, feeling your warmth, eager for more.
“Zayne…” The name slips out on a breath, carrying all the times we almost acted but always held back.
I meet your kiss, my breath quickening with the slow slip of silk from my shoulders.
Your hands are warm where they find my skin, your thumbs brushing just beneath my breast. I lean into the contact, drawn to the heat you’re holding back, and a low breath escapes me before I can stop it. Your restraint has always been alluring—but here, with nothing between us, the hold you keep on me… it’s almost unbearable.

πŸ’™
My hands finally travel over your exposed skin, teasing and stroking until I can hear your labored breathing. Your pulse flutters under my lips as I kiss down your throat, your collarbone, until my mouth replaces my hands on your rosy skin.

Your fingers weave through my hair, a low sound escaping my chest. Your touch ignites a deep desire inside me, the tension so high that it’s almost impossible to predict when it’ll burst.


Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I am your present

The room is warm, the air thick with candlelight and the faint trace of her perfume. The scent is something delicate, lingering—like jasmine after rain, like something meant to be remembered. He sits on the couch, his suit immaculate, posture relaxed but precise. The low glow of the lamps catches the sharp cut of his jaw, the composed stillness of his expression. His eyes—dark, unreadable—follow her with quiet certainty. Always watching. She stands before him, wrapped in the softest whisper of lingerie, satin ribbons hugging her curves. A bow sits tied around her waist, its message written in careful script: “I am your present.” A slow smile plays at her lips as she tilts her head, letting the anticipation stretch just a little longer. Then, her voice—low and smooth—breaks the hush. “I told you yesterday I had a present for you.” She watches the way his gaze lingers, not just on her skin but on the meaning behind her words. “Did you like it?” His reply is quiet, measured. No hesitation...
Post a Comment
Read more

“No Main” and the Illusion of Fairness in RP

In roleplay (RP) communities, especially those centered on romantic storytelling, there’s always this question of whether a love interest (LI) should have a “main MC,” or treat all interactions equally. It might seem like a stylistic choice at first, but it carries deeper emotional, creative, and social consequences. While a “no main” approach may seem fair in theory, I believe it’s more honest, and ultimately kinder, to acknowledge emotional resonance and personal bias. Rather than pretending neutrality exists, creators and players alike should strive for fairness through awareness, not through denial. One of the clearest benefits of having a main MC is narrative depth. When a writer consistently engages with the same person, chemistry grows, continuity strengthens, and emotional arcs feel earned instead of episodic. It allows the LI to craft posts with someone specific in mind, not just for content or visibility. This intimacy shifts writing from performance into connection. And emo...
Post a Comment
Read more

Tasting rights

The sun was just starting to set when they finished establishing their camp for the weekend. It was warm out, comfortable enough to take their time while preparing their meal. Lei was busy laying out some fruit, mostly strawberries, sorting them by color and softness. She ran her fingers lightly over each one before handing them to Xavier, who deposited them into a bowl. He kneeled quietly beside her, but close enough that the others wouldn’t forget who she had come with. Lassy crouched by the fire, stirring the lit coals with the end of a stick. Zayne hovered closely behind her. He was silent as usual, just adjusted the grill and stayed near, steady as he always was. She let the heat rise. Near the cooler, Sylus was picking through bottles of flavour-infused mead, humming and turning each one in his hand like he was selecting a vintage wine. “Cherry or strawberry?” he asked, holding up both bottles. His tone was light, but the glance he gave Zayne said he hadn’t forgotten who had got ...
Post a Comment
Read more