“What you need is a silk blindfold and a ball gag.”
Jill spits out her coffee onto the half-eaten buttery croissant in front of her, turning her head slowly, eyes wide open. Wiping her mouth, she whispers, “What did you say?”
“I’m serious, Jill.” Marsha whispers back, pausing for the waiter to finish clearing the nearby high-top table. “If you want to find your ‘groove thang’ again, you should consider a different approach. You’ve said yourself, and I quote, ‘The dating pool is shallow and teeming with toxic mommy-issues’ and the whole Bumble-Tinder-App thing is just gross. This…”
Marsha looks to see that the waiter has moved on, then she slides the business card across to Jill. Before she even looks down, she holds a coffee mug up to her lips and just stares wide-eyed into Marsha’s eyes.
“Trust me on this, Jill. They are pros. You will not be disappointed.”
Jill, keeping her mug up to her lips, picks up the card,
BLIND DATES
Licensed Intimacy Counselors of Kink, Erotica, and Romance
“The tagline’s not subtle,” Jill says, setting the mug down and picking up her glass of water.
“Yeah, the acronym ain’t bad either,” Marsha replies.
Jill smiles, mouthing ‘LICKER’. “God knows I could use a good one of those right now,” she says quietly, giggling as she notices her nipples have stiffened, and her pussy lips tingle as she squirms in her chair.
“Is this legal?” she asks.
Marsha, in a hushed voice, says, “Did you know in the early 1900s doctors treated Anxiety by inducing 'hysterical paroxysm': Orgasms! Husbands sent their wives to doctors who gave orgasms to calm us down! And that is exactly what you need.”
“You’re not a doctor, Marsha.” Jill feels the duality of excitement and fear swirling about her senses. “This is crazy!” she says.
“Listen," Marsha responds. “How many times have you told me being sexually open doesn’t mean being sexually available? It’s your turn to have an open mind.”
After a brief pause, Marsha continues, “Bill died almost 3 years ago. I know he was the love of your life and a skillful, generous lover, but I don't believe he wants you sitting on the sidelines or, even worse, playing with the JV team. Listen - these guys make house calls.
“Think of it as a one-night stand, without the risk of some regrettable dork hogging up your time, flooding your inbox.” Marsha continues, “You control the process. When and what they touch. You create the narrative.”
Jill can’t believe she’s entertaining this, but her curiosity is piqued. With lifted eyebrows, she takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, then says, “There must be a catch?”
“Well, yes, there is. There is one catch,” Marsha whispers. “
“What?” Jill asks sharply.
“You must remain blindfolded throughout the entire date.”
Jill pulls her head away, eyebrows arched.
Marsha continues, “They will do anything you want, and, perhaps, some things you don’t know you want. But their anonymity must be maintained. They are very strict about this.”
Another pause. “That’s why they’re called Blind Dates.” Marsha continues, “You don’t need to worry about what they look like or what they are wearing, or that awkward eye contact that triggers you into worrying about what they might be thinking. None of that matters because you get to imagine exactly what they look like. They do intimacy and orgasms, not drama, or, God forbid, therapy!”
Marsha continues. “If you just want to make out or cuddle for 20 minutes, that’s what you get. If you want your hair pulled and head railed into the headboard, then you can get that. There’s no pressure to do more or less than you want on any particular date. Everything is based on your choices, your whim, your mood.” Marsha pauses. Then she pierces the silence with, “My retirement gift, no, retirement sounds like going out to pasture. My ‘reframation’ gift to you is the first three sessions.”
Three? Jill, thinks to herself, hardly believing she’s considering this. Although... not seeing face and hair details and getting my brain stuck is a plus. She remains curious. Hmmm… No awkward eye contact. A little smile spreads across her face as she tilts her head and nods.
Marsha continues, “On the first couple of dates, the intro-phase, they only touch what you expose. Have them conduct a ‘skills quality’ test run if you'd like. See if their fingers and lips on your skin merit further access. Check to see if your “date” honors your boundaries. But I am telling you, you will not be disappointed.”
A week later:
Jill reviews in her mind what brought her to this point. As a widow, trust has been an elusive companion. It’s been three years since Bill died. God knows I’ve tried, but it’s been tough to find someone to fill those shoes. He was the complete package. Every new twist or kink was pursued as an opportunity for co-creation: To, with, and for each other. It’s time to start honoring his legacy.
She sits on the side of the hotel bed, holding the red package with pewter ribbon delivered by courier. Why am I so nervous? It’s not like I’m a prude.
Jill lets out a long sigh, sits up, unties the ribbon, and opens the box. Am I afraid… afraid great sex is somehow betraying Bill?
She scoffs at the thought. Bill is more likely to feel betrayed that I’m not. He was fond of the quote, “Orgasms are not just the Creator’s gift to us; they are our prayers of gratitude to Her.“
Jill removes the folded note card lying on top of a lusciously soft, mango-colored satin blindfold.
She takes a deep breath and opens the note.
“Jill, welcome to the seminal session of YOUR journey! You will always have total and absolute control, until you decide not to. There are only two rules.
1. You must keep the blindfold on at all times. There are no exceptions.
2. The first Blind Date will be a brief “Meet and Greet”. Any later Blind Dates will be based on your direction
“Please text “OK” to the number below when you are ready. Your date will knock on the door at the specified address, then enter, exactly 3 minutes later.”
Jill checks herself in the mirror, then runs her fingers across the silk blindfold in her hand as she walks into the suite’s sitting room, closing the bedroom’s double doors behind her.
Fuck it. I can do this. I want this. For me. Jill texts, “OK.”
Jill sits down on the red ottoman, covers her eyes with the blindfold, and ties it behind her head.
A 5-second pause follows the knock on the door of the hotel suite, then the whir of the keypad hums, and the door opens. Mr. X steps in. Jill is wearing a white tank and black yoga pants, with simple diamond earring studs. X walks toward her, sensing apprehension, perhaps nervousness.
The sound of a bag softly being placed on the floor startles Jill. “I have just placed my bag of goodies on the floor. I carry this on every date. I will always seek your consent before I use any of these with you. Do you understand?”
Jill nods and quietly says, “Yes.”
“Just so we are clear. I am here to serve you and your desires. We can talk as little or as much as you’d like. As you are aware, during this first date, I cannot touch those areas of your body that are covered by clothing. This first ‘Meet and Greet’, is designed for us to cover the ground rules and familiarize ourselves with each other. At any time, you want me to pause or stop and leave, say the word.
My mission is to fulfill your needs in a manner that makes you comfortable and confident, knowing that you are in control. I want this to be an amazing and empowering experience for you. Do you have any questions?"
Jill swallows hard. “No,” she responds.
“I am going to touch your right wrist, run my fingers up your arm to your shoulder, then step around behind you to check your blindfold is secure. Are you alright with this?”
X’s style and tone invite some well-needed relaxation, with a tinge of titillation, into her being. Her nipples stiffen against her bra, radiating a long-lost tingling through her body. She thinks, With my eyes covered, everything resonates so deeply!
“Yes.” She answers in a whisper and nods her head slightly. She thinks to herself, Well, I asked for a gentleman, and so far he’s got me sold with his smoothness. At least he can talk the talk.
“You’ve done a very nice job securing this blindfold. Do you have experience with knots and such?”
Jill feels her face turning flush, and coyly responds. “Perhaps… yes, but it’s been a while.”
“Do I have your consent to touch the areas of your body where there is no clothing?”
Taking a deep breath and then exhaling, “Yes,” she replies.
X places his fingers on each of her bare shoulders, next to her tank’s straps. He slowly moves down the outside of each arm, his fingertips and neatly groomed nails glide smoothly, and her skin pops with goosebumps. With his first touch, Jill thinks to herself, Oh Fuck! He is good. I may be overdressed.
By the time he reaches her wrists and starts his fingers moving up on the inside of her arms, her nipples are hard and smashing into her sports bra beneath her tank. Her breath quickens. His upward ascent is even more delectable, more menacing than the first. As his fingers reach the cracks of her armpits, he pauses, then U-turns to repeat.
His fingers are halfway down her arms when Jill shifts herself on the ottoman, feeling the moistness of her pussy lips against her yoga pants. X completes the down stroke; he gently takes hold of her wrists and raises her arms above her head. Although her breasts aren’t on today’s menu, her subtly arched back and hard nipples are a clear sign that this anonymous lover has cracked her skin’s titillation code. Oh my fucking God! she thinks to herself, It’s like his fingers know me!
“Keep your arms above your head.”
From behind, X draws his fingers from her wrists down the inside of her forearm to the crook of her elbow, where each finger draws three circles. His fingers continue their descent over her biceps to her armpits. His fingers continue their exploration, tracing them along the fabric of her tank top, clearly demonstrating his respect and compliance with Jill’s boundary.
Jill, aching with desire, lifts her chin and instinctively leans back into X. She aches for him to grab her from behind, squeeze her tits, and pinch her nipples.
Not wanting him to move on, she folds her arms above her head, grabs her opposite wrists, and rests her forearms on top of her head. His fingers continue their tracing around the fabric of her tank top, then four fingers of each hand stroke from her armpits up to her elbows, then back down, up then down, up then down.
Jill’s breath quickens. She smiles, thinking to herself, Finally, a lover who understands armpits!
X leans down, retracing the boundary with his tongue.
Jill’s pussy is wet. Her breath quickens.
“I’m going to move around in front of you... I am checking in. Are you OK?” X asks.
“Yes,” Jill replies, almost embarrassed that she is so excited, and she knows he knows it.
Keeping one hand on her left shoulder, X shifts around to reposition himself in front of and directly facing Jill. Sliding his left hand around her under and up her back, he gently, yet firmly, grabs a handful of hair close to her scalp. Flexing his wrist, he pulls up toward the crown of her head. “Relax,” he says, then tilting her head back, exposing her neck.
Jill holds her breath, balancing helpless submission with hopeful anticipation. She thinks, So firm, yet gentle.
X leans in and softly kisses Jill’s elevated right elbow. He pulls back, then goes in for another kiss, a little bit lower toward her armpit; this time, his tongue flicks the crease between arm and pit.
Jill blows out a deep breath and squirms. If she wanted to hide her breathing, she couldn’t. Her blind anticipation grows as X’s kisses continue their delectable descent. His tongue across her armpit again, and then retraces the wetness with a sustained stream of cool air from his pursed lips. He softly bites the down where her armpit and arm meet. A whimper escapes Jill’s mouth.
X runs his wet tongue from her collar bone up her neck, her jawline, then to her ear lobe, which he sucks into his mouth. His teeth gently secure her diamond stud securely as he nibbles, flicks, and licks her ear with skillful charm. The warmth of his breath spreads behind her ear and down her neck. Jill is hot. She adjusts her position, and the intimate silence is broken with the undeniable clicking of her soaked pussy lips clamoring for attention.
Jesus Christ, I want this mouth! Everywhere! Jill thinks to herself.
X then releases his lips’ grip on her diamond stud, and, with one continuously flickering tongue, moves down her neck where he kisses sweetly, then whispers, “Our time has come to an end. I look forward to hearing from you again. Please wait til you hear the door close before you remove the blindfold.”
Jill thinks to herself, Dude – don’t fucking stop! I want that mouth on my pussy, but remembers - the rules are the rules. And she set them.
Bill always met my impulses with compassion, then rewarded me handsomely for my compliance, she thinks to herself. Patience, Jill, patience.
“Yes, I would love that. Thank you,” she answers Mr. X.
Jill’s mind is reeling. Before the door closes, Jill yanks her yoga pants down to her knees, plunging then thrusting two fingers deep into her steaming, hot pussy while furiously rubbing her clit with her other hand. Quickly, she collapses into a pile of heaving, drenched, orgasmic bliss on the floor beside the ottoman.
I’m never taking this blindfold off! She begins thinking about the next Blind Date.
----
X walks quickly to the elevator, which opens immediately. As soon as he steps inside, he bends over at the waist, grabbing both sides of his head, muttering out loud, “Oh my God! It can’t be her! Can it?”
