Love Is Blind

Kracy Wan

Copyright Kracy Wan 2012

Published at Smashwords

I was very new to the business of "escorting" when I fell in love. I was not new to sex, on the contrary I was quite the delicate beauty in my early youth and very popular with both boys and the girls, I was simply new to getting paid for it. But a girl has to make a living, after all.

It was my third customer, in fact, when Madam Claire came to me, wringing her hands and holding a piece of folded paper. I thought I had done something wrong. Claire is very good to her girls; she treats us fairly and spares no expense on our safety. Everyone takes regular martial arts and self-defense courses, led by her husband Joshua, who earned his black belt when he was 17.

But when she approached me, the paper clutched tightly in her wringing hands, it wasn't to tell me I had done something wrong, it was to tell me how to prevent it. "You will spend the night at the client's house." She said to me in a distracted tone, which told me that the information worrying her was still to come. "Now Lilly, this is a VERY wealthy client who is VERY particular about things. Do not speak unless spoken to. Do not refuse any suggestions or offers. Do not argue about anything at all. The sky is green and the grass is blue if she says so."

She. Something told me that not many of Madam Claire's clients, wealthy or not, were female. "Of course, Madam." I replied politely, immediately growing curious. Who could this wealthy woman be that had chosen me without my ever meeting her?

"Good." Madam Claire said with a nod, seeming to relax a little before handing me the paper. "Follow these instructions and do NOTHING to offend her, understand?" I simply nodded and Madam Claire left my room.

I looked down at the paper, which had become folded and wrinkled from Claire's nervously grasping hands, and skimmed over the instructions curiously. Then I read them a second time, much more thoroughly.

Apparently I was to wear a light pink silk evening gown, with sleeves no longer than the elbow and cut low enough so that none of the material would touch my throat, which was to be adorned simply with a matching silken choker. No other jewelry or adornments were permitted, and I was also told not to wear any perfume. My hair, of which I was particularly fond as it was a rich honey blond and went to the middle of my back, was to be left loose and unstyled. That included no hairsprays of any kind.

Madam Claire had already provided the gown, which she brought into my room just as I finished rereading the letter. She helped me put it on, fussing over me as if I were her daughter on my way to my first prom. Madam Claire could be stern at times, but she truly cared for the girls in her employment.

After I was fully dressed, I went downstairs & climbed into the back of the awaiting limo, sent by the mysterious client for whom I had no name or information, only that she was very wealthy and apparently was well known, at least to Madam Claire.

Inside the limo was a bottle of champagne and a glass, as well as a comment from the driver to help myself. I was never fond of the stuff, but Madam Claire's words of "Do NOTHING to offend the client." echoed in my head, so I poured myself a half glass and nursed it. The ride was long, but I was comfortable on the soft seating and I began to feel tired. Long car rides always put me to sleep, so I curled up carefully on the seat, making sure the gown would not tear or wrinkle, and took a nap.

I was awoken by the absence of movement. Apparently we had reached our destination. The driver came around and opened the door, patiently waiting for me to get myself back into order as I woke, then politely offered me his hand, helping me get out of the car. With an amused smile, he waited patiently again as I readjusted the gown and patted down my hair, then pointed to the large mansion in front of us, letting me know that someone named Jenny would help me from here.

I had barely raised my hand to knock on the large front door when it opened, leaving my hand to hover awkwardly in the air for several seconds before I finally lowered it. An older woman stood in the open doorway, smiling in that same, patient way that the driver, whose name I had forgotten to ask, had done. It was a smile that said 'Don't be embarrassed, we've been there too.'

Jenny ushered me inside and led me to a sitting room. After I was seated comfortably, she disappeared and brought me a silver tray containing a teapot, two cups, and a small plate of tiny cakes. Beneath the treats was a sealed envelope. Jenny disappeared before I opened it. Inside was a sheet of paper and a blindfold. "Put this on." The paper said simply, so I followed the directions, tying it carefully over my hair.

Almost as soon as my hands fell away from the knot I heard footsteps outside the room I was in. Instinctively I turned toward the sound and listened, hearing the opening and closing of the door as someone, presumably the client, entered the room.

"Good evening. You must be Lilly, Claire's girl." Came a voice. It was a soft, yet authoritative voice, and strangely lyrical in my ears. The speaker did not sound much older than myself, but she did not sound like someone who was used to being denied.

"Yes, ma'am." I replied politely, not knowing what else to call her. Nothing about her house or voice was familiar or recognizable to me.

"Wonderful." Came her reply. "Stand for a moment, if you would please." I obeyed and stood perfectly still as she slowly circled me, inspecting me. "You may sit back down now, thank you."

I sat and heard her move behind me, her fingers untying my hastily done knot, but the blindfold was not pulled away, so I did not dare to move my head. Instead she seemed to hold the ends in one hand while the other played in my hair, which was left loose as instructed. She then began to brush my long hair over my shoulder and I felt the blindfold retied at the base of my neck so that it did not interfere with my hair. It was slightly less comfortable, but I've known worse things.

She then sat down in the chair across from mine and I heard the gurgle of the tea being poured. "Would you care for sugar in yours?" I nodded, and then accepted the delicate china cup that was gently placed in my hands. "Would you care for a desert?" Remembering the small cakes I nodded once more, expecting one to be handed to me as the tea had, but instead, I heard the sound of her rising from her chair and walking back to mine. After a few seconds, I felt an almost timid brush against my lips. She wanted to feed me! Intrigued and amused, I opened my mouth and took a small bite.

The treat was delicious! Certainly better than anything I'd ever had before, and it melted smoothly on my tongue. As soon as I felt that soft brush on my lips again I eagerly opened up for a second bite. This continued until I had eaten three of the little cakes and decided that was enough.

After the tea was settled, my mysterious client took my hand and led me carefully to another room where a soft, slow music was playing. It was there that I understood the point of the gown, for we danced together for some time, her taking the lead and me praying silently that I wouldn't trip or step on her feet. I was never known as a graceful dancer. I never did either of these things, nor did her firm yet gentle grip ever waver, making me feel secure that if I did trip, she was ready to catch me.

We said nothing as we swayed to the orchestral music, but occasionally I heard her sniff softly at my throat and felt the soft tickle of her own hairbrush across my cheek. The thought that maybe she was some kind of modern day vampire flickered across my mind, but I quickly banished it again. More likely she was making sure I had followed the no perfume rule.

Finally the music ended and she pulled away slightly, once more taking my hand. I felt a finger trace slowly along the silk choker at my throat, so I leaned my head back a little. Then the finger slowly strayed from the material to caress my throat above the choker, moving all the way to the underside of my chin before pulling away and a soft tug on my hand told me we were to go to a new destination.

The next room I first assumed to be a bedroom, for I was led to a padded stool where I sat while she moved around behind me, then I felt her fingers once more in my hair, gently sifting through the soft strands and letting them slide through her fingers until they fell back into place. She did this for several minutes before I felt her hands move away from my hair to my face, fingertips slowly sliding along my jaw until they met at my chin, then sliding down my neck, then across the exposed part of my chest, though they stopped at the line of the silk gown and began going back up again.

The gentle touches seemed to send electrical currents racing through my body. Every nerve seemed to tingle with excitement, shivers ran down my back and radiated out to my limbs. I let out a small, involuntary moan when I felt soft lips just below my ear. My choker was removed and the lips moved lower. I confess that I once more entertained the silly notion that she was a vampire, then I forgot it again as a new wave of bliss came to erase my thoughts.

The blindfold, I was surprised to find, also increased my excitement. Not being able to see my surroundings or who shared them with me somehow added to even the simplest of pleasures, my anticipation rising with each heartbeat until it became nearly uncontainable. It was almost a relief when I felt her hands slide to my back, pulling at the tiny zipper of my gown.

But she was a skilled tormentor. With terrible slowness her hands moved, her fingertips tracing lazily across my skin, pushing the soft silk of the gown before them, first across my shoulders and down the length of my arms, freeing them, then tracing back up my arms and moving slowly down my sides, pushing the gown to my waist, then abandoning it as they slowly traced upward across my tingling belly before finally sliding over my breasts.

I was terribly disappointed when the hands were pulled away. A raging flame of need and desire was burning inside me now, but my satisfaction was to be slow in coming, apparently.

I was then wordlessly urged to rise to my feet. As I did so, I heard the stool moved away and those deliciously agonizing hands returned, drawing soft lines across my hips before pushing the gown downward until it collapsed in a heap at my feet, though the hands continued their slow path, down the outside of my legs, thumbs making small circles at the back of my knees before sliding down further, tickling my ankles, then gently urging me to lift my feet, one at a time, so my shoes could be removed and set aside. Then they slowly moved upward again, along the inside of my legs, pausing teasingly across my inner thighs. My growing dampness was quite obvious by then, but they did not proceed further. And after a soft kiss to the base of my back, they once more pulled away, leaving me in terrible frustration.

I listened intently to the sound of cloth moving as my mysterious lover unclothed herself, then once more she took my hand and led me away, but it was not to a bed that we were headed, as I expected. Instead, beneath my bare feet I felt the floor change to a cold tile and heard the pull of a curtain. We were in a shower! I heard the water running, then my hand was held out to the falling spray, which was warm to the touch, then my hand was placed on a cool, metal handle. "Go ahead," she told me, "Make the temperature to your liking."

I did so, making it a little warmer than it was without being hot. Obviously she had something planned if we were to shower together. Maybe I would even be granted my badly needed release, I hoped. I was positioned under the water, each falling drop sending more shivers of pleasure running through me, and then my arms were gently raised until my hands found a thin plastic bar above my head. I gripped it loosely. Then I felt the soft caress of those hands that I have so come to adore, as if in reward for doing things correctly the first time. They slid slowly down my arms, then down my sides and rested a moment at my hips, leaving a trail across my skin that seemed to burn with awareness and longing for more.

But once more I was left unfulfilled as the hands pulled away. When they came back, something soft and wet was pressed against my skin, leaving a filmy feel in its wake. The scent of lavender soap filled my nostrils and I realized I was being washed. The sponge stroked me with the same gentle care as her fingers, and I could not help but squirm a little in delight as my body was slowly covered in the cleansing foam.

First the sponge started at my shoulder, sliding gently around my neck as it moved to the other shoulder, then it moved along my arms to the elbow, then back down to my chest, always moving in slow, careful movements. I drew in a breath as the sponge moved down to my breasts, taking special care with them, swirling in ever diminishing circles until it reached the nipple, which was then teased & stroked for several agonizing seconds before moving to the other breast, then down across my belly.

I parted my legs eagerly as I felt the sponge go lower and it stroked my inner thighs before going higher, brushing teasingly across me before continuing it's path down my legs and finally my feet. A soft pressure at my hip signaled for me to turn around. This time the sponge began at my heel, then slowly worked it's way upward along my calf and thighs. My rear received the same kind of thorough, yet teasing attention as my breasts had, each side scrubbed thoroughly in ever smaller circles before I felt myself parted and the soft wetness of the sponge was lapping at me like a tongue. I could not help but give a soft cry of frustrated excitement at that, but all too quickly it was over and my back was being lathered, finally ending once more at my shoulders.

Once more the hands pulled away, but this time, when they returned, I felt arms slip loosely around my waist, the hands moving directly to my hips and then between my still parted legs. The slick sponge slid back and forth several times before I heard it drop to the floor, and then I felt those lovely fingers, slick with foamy soap, diving into me. It was almost enough to trigger my torturously postponed climax, especially when I felt the fingers wriggling, exploring my depths while coating them with the slippery soap. My entire body tensed as this continued, my need rising to become almost painful, but then the fingers once more retreated and I was left as before, in frustration.

I held still as I listened to the sound of her scrubbing herself with lather, then I heard another bottle being opened. After several seconds, her hands were back again, this time in my hair, washing it thoroughly with a lilac-scented shampoo. And then I was pulled under the warm water, feeling those soft, experienced hands as they gently wiped the soap away from my skin. My face was kept out of the water, even with the rinsing of my hair, so the blindfold was not a problem. I was glad it was not removed, actually. I had grown quite fond of the heightened pleasure it was bringing me, and the excitement of the mystery.

As the last of the soap was thoroughly rinsed away, the water was turned off, and almost immediately after, I heard the soft sniffing again at my throat. I began to wonder if she had found me to be somehow unclean before, and the thought made me blush fiercely in embarrassment.

"You are quite beautiful when you're wet." She whispered in my ear, pulling my thoughts away from their previous course and on into a new direction. A moment later, I felt her lips brushing across the top of one breast, followed swiftly by the trace of her tongue and all thought fled from my mind. I could focus on nothing but the tingling pleasure caused by her expert touch.

With the same patient slowness as with the rest of my time there, she ran her tongue across my breasts, alternating between one and the other, sometimes licking a slow line between them. When she finally took my left nipple into her mouth, I felt my knees buckle under me and her swift arms were there to keep me from falling, although her mouth remained ever at my breast, tongue flicking and swirling the sensitive bit of flesh until I thought I would go mad, then she moved to the other, showing equal care while still denying me my desperately needed release.

When she finished with my nipples, I was given a few seconds to regain myself. The strength returned to my legs and I was finally able to stand without support. The gentle pressure was applied to my hip again and I turned around, wondering what was to come next.

Her arm came around my waist, giving me balance while also holding me in place as a gentle press to my back made me lean forward. My hands were then placed against the shower wall. I heard a soft scraping sound, as of a cap being unscrewed, then gasped in surprise as I felt the sudden, unapologetic invasion of her fingers again, two of them sliding between my parted thighs. There was something on her fingers that made me shiver slightly, but it was not wholly unpleasant. I knew immediately what I was feeling, having had enough experience with it in my youth. Lubricant. Several long seconds after the fingers were pulled away I felt them again, this time pressing into my rear.

As the hand once again pulled back, I fought to control my growing impatience and driving need, reminding myself that I had no control in this situation, and my mysterious lover obviously knew what she was doing. But what WAS she doing?

My curiosity was only heightened as I felt the teasing flutter of a silicone toy against my nether lips. It passed back and forth several times, and I was unable to prevent myself from rocking my hips eagerly with its sway, before it was finally inserted, nestling deep inside me. I moaned softly, but was not given much respite. Another, smaller toy was then used in a similar way behind me, sliding along the slit of my rear before being gently slid into place and sending a shiver of delight running up my spine.

The feeling of fullness was surprisingly wonderful and I almost lost my balance again to the sensation of it, but gentle hands once more guided me out of the shower and finally into a bedroom. The plush carpeting was soft under my bare feet and I was led carefully to a large bed, where I was instructed to lie down.

My hands were once more pulled over my head and a loose, soft cloth was pulled across my wrists, holding them there. My ankles were also lightly bound to keep my legs spread apart. The bindings along with the blindfold sent me deeper into a realm of anxious excitement. I could have easily slipped free of my bindings if I had wanted to, their presence was not forceful, but I found I enjoyed the gentle constriction, as well as the strange freedom of not having any control.

Soft fingers began to slowly stroke me, starting at my throat and slowly working lower, causing me to quiver helplessly at the flood of sensations this caused. As the soft, knowing fingers caressed my breasts, I inhaled sharply, letting it out in a moan as my still-sensitive nipples were gently pinched and rubbed, then the fingers continued lower, causing the skin of my belly to shiver, and then the hands were caressing my thighs, making me pull my legs farther apart in silent pleading.

My wish was finally to be granted. One of the hands moved to rub gently at my mound, fingertips pressing in slow circles at the other moved to the toy nestled inside me, pulling it back slowly until only the belled out tip was still left past the boundary of my moistened nethers, then it was slid just as slowly back in. This was repeated several times before the rubbing fingers moved lower still, seeking, then finding the swollen nub of my clit.

I almost screamed in pleasure at that touch. Until that moment, I thought it was impossible for me to feel any more intense than I already did without the release of a climax, but somehow she still continued to deny me while fueling the already raging flames of my desire. As she gently rolled the nub between her thumb and forefinger, I began to imagine I was really on fire, burning to nothing but ash and cinders as she drove me to ever-higher peaks of ecstasy.

Then her hand withdrew, even though she continued to slowly piston the silicone toy in and out of my burning depths. She then swiftly replaced the missing fingers with her soft, warn tongue, sending me into a fit of near madness as her seeking tongue traced playfully across my outer lips and flicked at their convex, the toy sliding faster, in, out, in, out.

Finally her mouth descended on my swollen clit, sucking it gently, rolling it with her tongue, increasing her pace once more with the toy, occasionally wiggling it side to side before pulling it back again.

When my climax came, it was as if a damn had broken somewhere inside me, and a tidal wave of the most intense pleasure I have ever felt washed over me and simply carried me away. I heard my excited moans as if from a distance and felt my bound limbs thrashing, but it was as if I was outside of myself, swept away in the current and leaving someone else in charge of my body until I returned.

When it finally faded, I was completely spent and despite my earlier nap, I felt myself utterly exhausted. Without waiting to see if my mysterious mistress wanted anything else from me that evening, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When I finally awoke the next morning, I was laying alone in a large, elegant bed. The sheets were of a pale blue silk and there was no sign of the straps that had loosely bound my hands and feet. The blindfold had also been removed. At the foot of the bed, however, lay my pink gown from the night before, placed on a hanger and covered with a plastic garment bag. Beside it was a dark purple sundress and pair of loose sandals. Resting on the sundress was a note.

I was surprised at the flood of sadness at finding myself alone, longing for the strange woman who I had spent my night with, but finding no trace of her. Even the pair of silicone toys had been removed during my exhausted slumber.

With a shaking hand, I reached out for the note. "Thank you very much for the pleasure of your company." I read it aloud to myself, taking some small comfort in the fact that it was hand written in an elegant type of script. "I had a wonderful evening and I sincerely hope you did as well. In time, may our paths cross again. I hope you enjoy the dress; I thought it would be more comfortable than the evening gown. Consider it a gift. - K"

I moved slowly, as if in a dream, reluctant to leave, yet knowing I couldn't stay. The purple dress fit me perfectly and the sandals were also my size. I read the letter a second time, running through every name I could think of that started with the letter K. Katherine, Karen, Kate. As I was led out of the house and back to the waiting limo hat was to take me back, I felt as if I were walking in a dream. I could not get thoughts of K, whoever she may be, out of my mind.

On the long ride back to Madam Claire's, I read the note a third time, and stared in confusion when a drop of water fell on the letter. My first thought was that the car was somehow leaking, but then I realized that it was me. I had begun silently crying. That was the point that I realized that I had fallen in love with someone I had spent only one night with and yet somehow never met.

I still have the purple dress and even wear it on occasion, though I take great care when I do. Whenever I meet someone who's name begins with a K, first or last, I find myself looking at their hands and listening closely to their voice. It's been a few years now and I've had many other clients, but none of them has come anywhere close to K. I'm still waiting for our paths to cross again. I'll even bring my own blindfold.

© Kracy Wan 2012

This story is a work of pure fiction. All characters, places, & situations are from the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to real people, alive or deceased, real or imagined, is coincidence.

(For those of you who may recognize this story, it is not stolen. It is simply being reposted by the same author under a different name for personal reasons. Thank you for your concern)