Chapter 2
I lay on the bed for what seems like a very long time. Not being able to see, my hearing and sense of smell are heightened. I can hear him in another room, and the sound of others… their voices hushed. My skin prickles and my heart continues to pound loudly in my ears. I hear footsteps coming towards the bedroom, but cannot discern how many people they belong to.
I catch my breath as the smell of cologne and testosterone invades the room. I know I will be touched soon, but have no idea where, or when, or by whom. My husband asks, “Are you ready?” I can hear his smile and know that he has a chair strategically placed in a corner to watch the coming events unfold. I nod my head, unable to actually speak, the unknown taunting me, pushing my anticipation to higher levels. I can hear them moving to the sides of the bed, feel their presence. The hair on my arms stands up and my skin tingles, waiting for the touches I know are coming. But still they make me wait.
The first touch is so slight, and so soft, it almost doesn’t register. But I feel it on my belly, soft, ticklish, and realize it is a feather. The feather travels up my middle to my breasts, up my neck, and under my chin. I shiver unexpectedly, straining to feel more. Wondering when the real touches will begin. I want to speak out, to tell them to just touch me already, but do not. The slight, sensuous stroking continues for a while longer. I have no concept of time. Then the bed moves, first on one side, then the other, as the weight of two men presses down on it. I can feel their presence, so close that I am tingling. I begin to ache to feel their touch, to know what they have in store for me. Their patience is maddening…
I lay on the bed for what seems like a very long time. Not being able to see, my hearing and sense of smell are heightened. I can hear him in another room, and the sound of others… their voices hushed. My skin prickles and my heart continues to pound loudly in my ears. I hear footsteps coming towards the bedroom, but cannot discern how many people they belong to.
I catch my breath as the smell of cologne and testosterone invades the room. I know I will be touched soon, but have no idea where, or when, or by whom. My husband asks, “Are you ready?” I can hear his smile and know that he has a chair strategically placed in a corner to watch the coming events unfold. I nod my head, unable to actually speak, the unknown taunting me, pushing my anticipation to higher levels. I can hear them moving to the sides of the bed, feel their presence. The hair on my arms stands up and my skin tingles, waiting for the touches I know are coming. But still they make me wait.
The first touch is so slight, and so soft, it almost doesn’t register. But I feel it on my belly, soft, ticklish, and realize it is a feather. The feather travels up my middle to my breasts, up my neck, and under my chin. I shiver unexpectedly, straining to feel more. Wondering when the real touches will begin. I want to speak out, to tell them to just touch me already, but do not. The slight, sensuous stroking continues for a while longer. I have no concept of time. Then the bed moves, first on one side, then the other, as the weight of two men presses down on it. I can feel their presence, so close that I am tingling. I begin to ache to feel their touch, to know what they have in store for me. Their patience is maddening…
