The relationship with Clive continued like a covert operation, our meetings orchestrated in the shadows of secrecy. We found ourselves in a delicate dance of desire and discretion, each rendezvous more thrilling than the last.
One evening, under the pretense of a routine traffic stop, Clive pulled me over in a secluded part of town, the area known more for its darkness than its traffic. Once in his car, the air was thick with anticipation, the space between us charged like the moments before a storm.
Clive had hinted at exploring new territories, and tonight was the night. He pulled out a silk scarf from his glove compartment, the fabric smooth and cool to the touch. "I want to try something," he said, his voice a mix of command and invitation. My heart thumped with curiosity and excitement.
He blindfolded me with the scarf, the world turning to black, heightening my other senses. The sound of his breath, the scent of his after shave mixed with leather from the car seats, everything felt more intense.
He guided my hands behind my back, securing them with another piece of silk. The vulnerability was exhilarating, my trust in him complete as I felt his hands roam my body, unzipping my jacket, sliding it off, then my top. The chill of the air contrasted with the heat of his touch.
Clive's fingers traced down my spine, igniting every nerve as he positioned me on my knees on the seat. I heard the clink of his belt, the rustle of fabric, and then the warmth of his skin against mine. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me back onto him, his entry slow, deliberate, letting me feel every inch of his girth.
The blindfold intensified the sensation; I could only anticipate his movements, unable to see his next action. He whispered dirty promises in my ear, his voice a low growl, telling me how he loved seeing me like this, how he wanted to make me his entirely in this moment.
He took control, his pace varying, sometimes slow and teasing, other times hard and fast, the unpredictability driving me wild. His hands found their way to my throat, not to restrict, but to guide, to control my breath in rhythm with his thrusts, adding to the overwhelming sensation of surrender.
I was lost in the pleasure, my moans filling the car, each orgasm like a wave crashing over me, counting at least four before he flipped me over, still bound and blind, to face him. His mouth found mine, the kiss deep, claiming, as he continued to move inside me, the angle hitting deep, pushing me towards another peak.
The climax for both of us was simultaneous, our cries muffled by the kiss, his body shuddering against mine. As we came down from the high, he gently removed the blindfold, his eyes meeting mine with a mix of satisfaction and adoration.
We stayed like that for a moment, catching our breath, the silk restraints still around my wrists, a symbol of our trust and the new layer added to our secret affair.
The next day, I unblocked his number again, this time not just for the thrill but because I couldn't deny the connection we were building. I messaged him, "Last night was incredible. When can we do that again?" The response was immediate, "Soon, and next time, I have more surprises for you." The game was changing, the stakes higher, but so was the reward. |