It only took her a moment to recognize the faux-fur-lined blindfold. Hard leather with a plush interior and eye rests scooped away for comfort, it had been a regular player in their lovemaking a while back. She sat on the bed with one leg tucked under her and slid the blindfold down over her eyes with fond nostalgia. With it settled in place, she could blink comfortably in the darkness. The abstract patterns that sparkled in her vision matched the sparkle of anticipation that fluttered in her belly.
Lin shifted the blindfold up to her forehead and got up several times, each time to do some nervous task and then settle back down again. First, it was to turn the lights down low and put her work clothes away. Then to light candles and turn the lights off entirely. Then to put on music—sexy, ambient music on random shuffle and repeat. At last, out of things to fidget over, she lowered the soft blindfold over her eyes with determination and reclined on the bed. She drifted in aroused meditation, so intent on focusing her hearing toward the sound of the front door opening and then shutting again that she almost didn’t recognize it when it finally came.
Now she was wide awake, heart pounding loudly in her chest. Senses straining, she heard the fridge open and close, followed by the squeak of the old floorboards in the hall. The bedroom door swished open, bare feet moved, and then the door closed again. Silence.
The scent of berries reached her. Fresh cut and sharply sweet and followed by the confirming quiet thud of a bowl set down on the nightstand. A metal bowl, Lin thought absently, not a glass one. There were other scents, too, but they were harder to place behind the fruit and the warm cinnamon of the candles. She smiled when she felt the weight of a knee on the mattress. She tilted her chin up and parted her lips, expecting the cool, tart kiss of a strawberry.
The lips that pressed to Lin’s were warm, soft and familiar. Celia’s curls brushed her cheek and Lin smiled, arching up to return the kiss with all her pent-up passion. Fingertips grazed over the silk covering one of Lin’s hard nipples, and she moaned softly into Celia’s mouth. “There’s one more gift. If you don’t like it,” Celia whispered at her lips between kisses, “you can tell me. It’s okay. But I think you will.”
The hand traveled down over Lin’s small breasts, between them and across the flat plain of her stomach, heading down. When they reached the damp, smooth crux of her spread thighs and trailed between the split lace of the panties, she heard a heavy breath. A breath not against her lips.
Lin started, but the comforting touch at her cheek and the warmth of Celia’s lips on hers soothed her. Celia’s breast was a heavy, familiar weight against her arm. “Shhhh. It’s okay.” Then her voice took that sly tone that always made Lin weak in the knees. “You said you wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye, right? Well…”
The wave of heat between Lin’s thighs flooded the back of her skull now. Blood rushing to her head, she thought, or maybe away from it. Her nipples ached. There was someone else in her bedroom. In her and Celia’s bedroom. A man.
Strong, thick fingers rubbed her own gloss up and down over her labia. Now, on her naked skin, she could tell that they weren’t Celia’s fingers at all. A man was looking at her nether lips, flushed dark with arousal. He was watching her hips rock uncontrollably from the tingle of need blossoming through her core. The fact that he was causing those feelings, was touching her, was beyond her for now. Her mind reeled with it—with shyness, but that was only in the background; with amazement, more, and potential, possibility.
“Do I know him?” Lin whispered back. She caught Celia’s lower lip for a hard, suckling pull to show her approval; a moment later, a finger circled wet, slow pressure around her clit. Her kiss turned inarticulate and she moaned, slumping back down against the pillow. Her abdominals tensed, her pelvis pushing up toward the touch, seeking more.
“Does it matter?” Celia answered, then tapped a chastising finger to Lin’s lips. It was slick, but with Celia’s essence, not her own. Lin swirled her tongue around it greedily, pulling it into her mouth and shook her head without letting go. Then Celia asked, “How do you feel?”
She had to release the finger to answer. It wasn’t fair, and she whimpered. The hand at her glistening cunt took the whimper as encouragement. A finger slid easily inside her, filling her with warmth, while something else—the thumb, she supposed?—still circled her throbbing clit. Her parted lips were slow to move in speech; Celia traced them, teasing them. “Dizzy,” Lin whispered finally. A second finger joined the first and her back arched involuntarily, betraying her ecstasy. There was no way to play it cool and casual. And why should she? A fantasy come true was something to savor, and the lover selfless and devious enough to set it up was someone to reward enthusiastically. The opportunity to try this out, with full support and in complete safety… “You’ll stay?”