I'm awakened to the feel of the silk blindfold being lowered over my eyes. I mumble and stir, and my lover's quiet voice hushes me.
"Shh, just you relax. We're going to play another little game this morning," he tells me.
"mmmmm" is my sleepy reply. His games are always exciting, and through my grogginess I feel a spark of interest and excitement kindle inside.
He shifts on the bed, pulling the sheets from over us. I try to curl up into a warm ball, but his strong, confident hands take hold of me.
"No, none of that, baby, we need you just so," as he rolls me onto my tummy. There's a large lump there - he's placed one of the big, firm pillows in the middle of the bed, and it makes my ass stick up 'just the way he likes it' when he wants to give me a serious plowing from behind. As he positions me, my nightshirt rides up, almost to the bottom of my panties, making me shiver. The spark spreads from my belly down between my legs as his hands trail up my calves and thighs, over my rear end, up my spine to my shoulders, and town along my arms. He takes hold of my wrists, pulling them around above my head on the bed.
"Something very special for you today," he whispers in my ear as I feel more silk winding around my wrists, binding them softly together, "I'm going to give you away to one of my friends."
I gasp and try to rise up, but his hand is on my back, gently pressing down. I relax a bit, remembering that it is play, but now I'm wide awake, my mind and heart racing. He's found another hot button - one I didn't know I had. The thought of being treated like that - a mere possession he could loan out - horrible! But I can feel the damp spot spreading between my legs. I must be blushing furiously and turn my head toward the mattress, away from where I feel him hovering over me.
"Oh, don't tell me you haven't thought about any of them," he whispers, teasing, "I know they're a hard bunch. I know you've checked them out. And I know they've checked *you* out. They're always giving me flap about what a hot piece of ass you are, how much they'd like a shot at you, and how I have to treat you right or they'll be happy to step in." His hands move back down, tickling the sides of my breasts through my nightshirt, then moving down and lifting the hem up to the small of my back. Both his touch and his words have me squirming.
"I thought it was time maybe I shared," he slips fingers under the elastic of my panties and draws them down and off my legs.
"Nooo..." I whisper-whine back, even as I lift my butt and then legs to let him slide the panties off. His hands run up and down my legs, and then squeeze my butt cheeks. His hands are hot. My skin is hot. I'm slowly falling into the game, stepping into the role, letting fear turn me on.
"Nice and firm, turned up and welcoming, just the way I like it," his voice is above and behind me now. His hands slide down inside my thighs and push gently but insistently. I open my legs for him.
"You don't know which one it is, coming up to you right now, to fuck that pretty little pussy." God, he is so dirty. I feel his knees settle between mine, the presence of his body radiating down on me. I jump as a warm finger slides between my legs, dips into me. It comes away wet.
"You don't even care, do you. You'd do any of them, all of them, wouldn't you." He speaks the questions like statements. The faces - and bodies - of his 'buds' pass for review before my minds eye. My lover pushes my legs wider with his knees, and grasps my hips in his hands. So unfair - I love the animal aspects of doing it from behind. The feel of him holding me firmly like that, readying for coupling, gets my motor running even for "vanilla" sex. I know he's using it for this taboo game on purpose, pushing me to play deeper into the perverted fantasy. I imagine the hands at my hips being of those other men. I moan as the head of his prick presses against my pussy lips, and shudder as he nudges forward, opening me just a bit, then relenting. As if he can read my mind, he lowers toward me, whispering the names of each of his friends like reading a menu.
With each new name, I squirm, trying to move my vulnerable entrance away from the nuzzling, probing shaft, picturing the man belonging to the name as the one mounting me, readying to take me.