My First Blindfolded Surrender in the Attic: Bottle and Stranger Cock
In the attic room of that old mansarde, I stood waiting. Naked. More than naked. Just my tall boots and thigh-high stockings licking my legs. Blindfolded. Hands stretched high above my head. Back arched like an offering. My lover had ordered this. His fantasy. Or mine? I’d confessed too much. What if he sent someone else? The thought terrified me. Aroused me. No turning back now.
Heart pounding. Each beat echoed in my ears. Legs slightly parted. Pussy exposed. Not hungry yet. Innocent. Smelling of fresh skin, light kisses waiting. Breasts thrust out. Nipples hard peaks cutting the air. Aching for touch. Pinch. Squeeze. I imagined his eyes—or another’s—devouring me. Blood rushed hot through my veins. Skin tingling. Desire building with every creak.
The Approach: Waiting in Trembling Anticipation
Steps on the stairs. Slow. Deliberate. Each one spiked my pulse. Who? Him? Stranger? Fear twisted with want. My cheeks burned. Shame thrilled me. I arched more. Spread wider. Pussy lips parting. Wetness gathering. Fantasizing brutal claim. Cock slamming in. No words. Just possession.
He was here. Silence first. Eyes raping me. Circling slow. I pushed my ass out. Craved inspection. Sudden urge: bend me, sodomize rough. Wreck my virgin-tight holes. Heart hammered wild.
Cold touch on my lips. Bottle neck. Glass smooth, chilled. Teasing mouth. Cheeks. I licked it. Tongue probing. It rolled down. Chin. Neck. Goosebumps exploded. Prayed for breasts. It came. Encircling nipple. Hard bud trapped. Twisting exquisite. Down belly. Back. Ass crack. I spread legs wide. Yearning penetration.
Neck grazed pubes. Labia. Slow strokes up-down. Parting folds. Agonizing tease. “Playing with my slit,” I thought. Bit lip. Tip nudged entrance. Then gone. I dropped hips instinctive. Chasing it. He placed bottle on floor. Upright. I squatted deep. Boots splayed. Glass spear piercing pussy.
The Instant: Brutal Tease to Shattering Climax
Riding now. Slow at first. Pussy lips stretching. Sucking neck. Juices coating glass. Deeper thrusts. Heart racing faster. Imagined his view: slut impaled, tits bouncing. Maladroit. Awkward thrill of first filth. Face brushed warm flesh. Cock. Thick. Unknown? Turned head. Lips hunted it. Hips pistoned independent.
Hands grabbed for it. Pushed back up. Obey. Mouth opened O-wide. Gland pushed in. Salty. Familiar? Not sure. Tongue swirled. Deeper thrust. Gagging sweet. Pull out slow. Faster rhythm. Face-fucked. Pussy devouring bottle. Mirror vision in mind: dripping cunt gobbling glass, mouth a second hole.
Tempo built. Frenzied. Pussy clenching glass cock. Felt infinite stretch. Tits concrete-hard. Body fire. Queen of depravity. Wave crashed. Explosion. Colors burst—red, yellow, green. Muffled scream around meat. Body shattered. Innocence torched.
After, slumped. Glass slipped out. Cum flavor lingered. Blindfold soaked sweat. Hands lowered trembling. Who was he? Didn’t matter. That peak—first true surrender—marked me. No more girl. Woman awakened. Holes no longer melancholic virgins. Craved more unknowns. Heart still raced remembering. First time forever etched.
