This story can only be found bundled with the Erotic Novella “Election Night”
Rain streamed against the windows. Everything in the room seemed to have stopped down until just the sound of their breathing filled the air. The woman had written a poem across his body with her lips.
She looked at the rain pouring outside in long rivulets against the glass. She liked the quiet hush now, just holding him like this. He felt surrounded by the little silver net of her being, caught like a golden fish in her embrace.
“Touch me,” she whispered, drawing his hand between her legs. She was so wet and slick that his fingers slipped easily against her, into her. He felt her tremble a little behind him and smiled to himself.
“I want to taste you,” he sighed, drawing his hand across his lips and inhaling. Every part of him wished to turn around and tear the blindfold from his eyes and take her. He had never experienced such romanticism in his life.
“You’re my captive this time,” she whispered.
“Not the other way around.”
His skin was on fire everywhere she had kissed it. A thousand little sparks seemed to blaze at once all over his body, where her lips had imprinted him. He was burning. But he was also curious to see where she would go with her poem. His hand blindly and obediently returned to her cleft and continued its caress.
She felt herself opening.
“Do you understand Ikebana?” she asked in a soft voice.
You are my canvas
“No,” he said.
She walked him backwards; to a low alcove, that held a deep futon on tatami mats. The alcove had hundreds of different flowers in vases. The riot of color would have assaulted his eyes, had he not been blindfolded. Delicate floral fragrances swirled all around him.
“You’ll need to lie down.”
She guided him onto the low bed. He lay on his back, with his legs slightly spread. She moved his arms away from his body, stretching them out like wings, palms upright. He was getting hard, and she blew her warm breath over his penis to stiffen it further.
“You are the primal element of this arrangement,” she whispered to it, and it swayed under her mouth, dancing. She brought her cheek to rest against it, tenderly, for just a moment.
His legs quivered, just as his mind was quivering, at her presence, so close to his manhood. His mind reeled and a thousand images flashed in front of him. It took every ounce of his strength not to move, not to tear away the blindfold and just grab for her and pull her against him, to move inside of her in one quick fast thrust. He trembled under the weight of his own power to lie there, surrendered into his experience of her.
In the background he heard Kodo drummers begin to play. The drumbeats entered his bloodstream and he breathed in time with them. He felt her move against him.
Something soft dropped silently into his hands. Sweetly fragranced white gardenias now trembled there. He could hear her breath coming more quickly, now. I’m exciting her, he thought. Just looking at me like this is causing her mind to spin and drift. Someplace inside him smiled in the stillness. Zen.
He felt the brush of something against his skin. She had taken a large round ball chrysanthemum and was tracing it up and over his legs. Everywhere the flower touched caused him to shiver inside softness. A cry escaped his lips, or maybe it was a murmur.
Please touch me
She continued the tracing up and down his cock now. Just up and down and up and down, with her breath following closely behind. She impaled the silken mass of the flower over his plump cockhead. He moaned, and drew in his breath, as the blossom engulfed him.