"Kiss me..!"

My words are little more than a whisper, but they still seem to echo around the room - or maybe it's just my imagination. I won't lie, my senses are a little skewed, and being unable to see anything isn't helping matters much. But I can talk, at least, and after my second time repeating it, I feel your warm lips caress my own, a kiss as warm and silky-soft as any pleasure I've ever known. I breathe in your scent, moaning softly as my tongue darts out to meet yours, and when you finally pull away I can't help but mewl unhappily, hungry, oh-so-hungry for you.

"More... please..."

You don't respond, but it seems like I can hear the ghost of a chuckle from somewhere to my left; I turn my head, mouth half-open and tongue lolling stupidly, completely heedless of what I must look like. I'm pretty sure you have enough to look at as it is, without gawking at my face - with every inch of me laid bare, you can look at whatever you want. Ogle me, touch me, fuck me--
But I know what's coming; you made sure to meticulously explain to me what you were going to do over dinner, remember? Every little step, every graphic detail etched into my mind, and the indignity of having you blindfold me shortly thereafter, so that all I can see now are the mental images of what is to come. Cruel, teasing... wonderful.

"Babe..?"

I can't hear you anymore, and with my arms tied above my head I don't have a lot of options to remove the blindfold. Not that I want to, obviously, but for a few, panicked moments I can't help but shake the feeling that you've left me alone in here, naked and bound, to languish in my desperate need. But then I feel your breath on my neck, and a hand slips around from behind to cradle my breast while I gasp with delight. Something warm and slippery is on your fingers, and I cast my mind back to what you had said, what you had promised. Oil. It's gotta be the oil, hot and slick against my skin, and as your second hand joins the fray I can't help but squirm and moan slightly in your grasp. Every inch of me. That's what you had said, before you'd had me strip down to my nothing-at-all. Every inch of my naked flesh coated in oil, and then--

Well, first things first. As you move from my chest to my shoulders and arms, I feel the shiny skin of my breasts begin to heat up, an every-so-slight tingle that leaves my nipples hard as bullets and more sensitive than ever. Even without touch, a buzzing pleasure begins to spread through me, and I do what I can to suppress my moans as you move on to my back, adding more oil on your hands whenever necessary. By now, every stroke of your fingers feels like a fiery kiss, and as you move inexorably closer to my sex I find myself squirming and mewling in excited terror, too torn between my current pleasure and the promise of the pleasure to come to worry about keeping quiet. When your hand creeps between my thighs, I shudder, and when your other hand slithers between my ass-cheeks to let a single finger wiggle teasingly against my back door, I can't suppress a whimpered

"Yes..!"

which naturally makes you pull back, leaving me with nothing but the heat and ghostly imprint of your body against my tight pucker. You move further down, and further still. Thighs. Knees. Shins. Feet.

And yet, my sex remains untouched, its heat fueled by my own, delirious desire alone. Fuck me, I plead silently, a pounding refrain that matches the thumping beat of my heart. Fuck me, fuck me, please please fuck me--

But you won't. I know what's coming next. And after that. And after that.

You told me, remember?

Everything you'd do.

Every

single

step