erection, but I hoped this time he really wouldn’t use it on me—my poor body simply couldn’t take it.
“Shut those pretty eyes of yours, Janie, and don’t peek.”
“Don’t peak or don’t peek?” I joked.
“You’ll peak alright, to the peak of the highest mountain.”
I let my eyes fall shut and felt my heart speed up. I had no idea what he was planning but had to trust he wouldn’t hurt me. I was a bit of a wimp when it came to pain.
“I’m just going to put this blindfold on you, baby. Just to make sure you don’t cheat.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“It’ll make the experience more sensual,” he assured me, in his late-night, gruff voice. A voice that sounded as if he’d binged on more cigarettes and whiskey than Don Draper, although, funnily enough, Daniel had never smoked in his life and rarely drank.
The blindfold was weighty on my lids but it felt great. I smelled lavender, as well as the frangipani.
“It’s stuffed with buckwheat or something to put weight on your eyes—and there’s lavender inside also. What do you see?”
“Nothing. Pitch black.”
“Good. Just concentrate on the sounds around you. The sound of my breath, the lull of the lapping waves. Think of this as meditation. Clear your mind from general chit-chatty mind-thoughts, judgment, desires or outcomes.”
It was true. I had a thousand thoughts swirling in my head. Daniel and his huge cock. My needs, yet how sore I felt inside. Pearl and Alexandre—had their plane landed? Would my simple linen dress be good enough, maybe I should have brought something fancier for my wedding gown. Could I act? What would happen when we got back to work? Was it a fluke that I got nominated for a Tony Award for Where The Wind Blows? WHAT IF THEY DISCOVERED I WAS A FRAUD?”
“Relax, Janie,” Daniel mumbled in my ear. He stroked my hair, soothing away my over-active ramblings that did me no good at all. “Just empty your mind and think of nothing else than the waves. Just the soft lapping waves, right beneath our bungalow. The turquoise water, clear and clean. The fish swimming beneath us, resplendent, multicolored, and going about their lives with absolute ease.”
I thought of sharks, suddenly, and wondered if they’d gobble up the unsuspecting fish, but Daniel had moved on . . .
“The aroma of frangipani . . .” I didn’t hear the rest but felt and incredible sensation of something light whispering across my nipples. It circled my breasts, around and around. I could feel my nipples harden and my pussy moisten.
“So beautiful,” I heard him say.
I was trying to work out what it was that was teasing me. Something soft. A feather? No. Tassels? It stroked along the center of my torso, down, down, avoiding the cleft of my pussy just by a millimeter. I moaned and rocked my hips up, hoping to meet whatever was giving me this indescribable pleasure. It traveled along my thighs, down my calf to my toe, where it lingered on my foot, ticking the erogenous zone—that pressure point in the middle underside of my sole. My clit was thumping to the rhythm of the strokes, and just when I thought it couldn’t get any sexier, Daniel’s thumb and forefinger (yes, I knew them by heart) squeezed my left nipple. Pulling, releasing, pulling, releasing. My whole body was throbbing.
I was lost in ecstasy. He tugged at it harder, meanwhile continuing with his “reflexology” treatment that had me squirming in my blindfold, still in total darkness as I was. He was right. I had lost all thoughts of everything, even the sounds around me. All I could do was feel. He hadn’t even touched me between my legs, not even lightly brushed past my clit, but I was groaning with carnal pleasure. He moved onto my other nipple and the unexpected change, of concentration on my part, caused tingles deep within my groin to explode.
“Oh, Daniel.” I felt a rush of blood to my central core as an orgasm ripped through the middle of me. I was fucking the air, gyrating my hips, longing for some contact on my pussy, even though my climax was so full and real. Just then, the same tool Daniel had been using to give me such pleasure rapped at my clit. A shocking sting.
“Horny girls deserve to be punished,” he said, the tassels of what I now realized was a whip slashing at my cleft, the sharp pain bringing in another orgasmic wave. “Need