I tried to open
my eyes in the middle of the night. I had been feeling my stomach
growling for a long time now. I tried to sleep through the pain, but it
was to no avail. I had to go to the washroom and barf out the alcohol
and food.
I tried to open my eyes once more,
but it seemed like they were sewn shut. I raised my arms and touched my
eyelids to physically open them, but I was pleasantly surprised when I
came in contact to my cornea. It shouldn’t have taken me that long to
realize that I was already awake. Since everything else around was pitch
black, my brain didn’t register if my own eyes were seeing it or not.
After
the self reflection my stupidity I tried to shake my body on the bed to
find an edge. But there was another problem resting on top of me, and
that was Amaan. A very naked Amaan.
Why was she naked? Why was she hugging me from behind? And why whenever her nipples touch me, I start losing self control?
I
took her arm and laid it next to her. In the meantime, I started
running my hand on the bed, scanning it to look for my phone. I found it
near Amaan’s feet. I unlocked the button and the light from the
cellphone blinded me for a second. When I regained my vision, I turned
on the flashlight. With one hand on the phone, another on my stomach, I
started walking against the wall in hopes of finding a door.
She had such a nice villa. She must have a bathroom attached to her bedroom, or so I thought.
After
stumbling the room for thirty seconds I came across a portion of the
wall which was obviously covered. The surface material was the same as
that of the whole building, and the paint was doing a phenomenal job of
camouflaging the little door. It seemed like a small door for a
bathroom, but I was ready to be disappointed if it turned out to be a
closet.
I ran my hand against the border of the
door in anxiety. I wanted to see what was on the other side so that I
could get my answer. After caressing the door for about fifteen seconds,
I found a miniature bump on the bottom left side. I pushed it, but it
didn’t work. I pulled it. Still nothing. I flipped it, and the whole
frame went inside. It formed a cavity in the wall, but now it had become
a door that could be opened. I pushed it inside and flashed my phone
inside to investigate the mini room.
All it had
was Amaan’s accessories. I took a picture of it and carefully closed the
door. The frame smoothly merged with the wall like nothing happened. I
turned around and walked towards the door we came through. As I exited,
one of the workers passed me by in the hall. I called her back and asked
for the bathroom. She pointed the door next to the bedroom’s door. I
ran inside and sat on the toilet.
While I relived myself, observed two things.
One, I was not going to throw up. I was just anxious to pee.
Two, Amaan Al-Habib was very fond of BDSM.
I
took my phone out and surfed my photos to find out the latest one. I
enlarged the picture and tried to identify every kind of equipment in
that room. All I could identify was a gag, some rope, whips & cuffs.
In the middle of the room hung two black leathered outfits. One for a
female dominant, another for a male gimp. Everything else made no sense
to me.
There were some metal rings which were as
big as my wrists. Some gags with a dildo on its opposite end. A mouth
cover which seemed like a cat or a dog. A medical brace.
WHAT THE HELL WAS ALL THAT?!
I the lower corner was a box with matte black butt plugs, fur cuffs, and a strap-on.
I
turned my phone away from me and thought about my situation for a
second. I was in a bed who could have used anything out of those
instruments on me while I was asleep. When I woke up moments ago, I
still had my robe on. My cellphone was on the bed, and that was not
tampered with.
What did happen in the past?
I
tried to divert my mind from kinky equipment that Amaan had next to her
bed and focused more on what Madonna would be doing. It was to no
avail. I was too restless to go back and fall asleep like nothing
happened. I had discovered another person’s kink. A hobby. Her way of
living. And that was drastically different to mine. Maybe I too had a
couple of cuffs in my bed drawer, but a couple of them could never
compete with Amaan’s collection.
I shut my eyes
and fell back on the toilet. It was cold to sit in the bathroom. I
needed to relax. Relax my mind and body would do the trick.
So
I decided to masturbate. In the middle of the night. In a stranger’s
bathroom. While sitting on her toilet. I started rubbing my clit. I slid my hand into my robe and touched my nipple. It was erect, trying
to burst through the robe. So I opened the robe and swung it open,
exposing my naked body to the cold air.
All this
chill around me contrasted to the raging heat in my body. I continued
to insert fingers in my vagina as I licked my finger and ran them over
my breasts. I kept my moans to myself and resisted myself by stuffing my
mouth with the robe. All the love I made my wife came back to me. Her,
tied in cuffs, licking me down there while she rubbed her pointy nails
into my breasts. Her tongue running up and down in my clit while I
pushed her mouth between my legs.
my breath was
getting uneven. My chest was bouncing up and down. I opened my eyes to
take a peek at myself, and I liked what I saw. I switched from rubbing
my fingers to inserting them as deep as I could in me. It was
sensational. It was a different kind of arousal that no amount of
fingering or scissoring would result. I put my fingers in my mouth to
lubricate it and applied my saliva on my raging nipples. The moisture on
them touched the cold air around, peeking my arousal up to heaven.
I
was ready to come. I increased my speed of insertion and grabbed my
breasts tightly. I wanted to contain my passion inside me as much as I
could. Madonna always said I was a moaner. I accepted myself in that
moment and screamed Madonna’s name through the robe. Madonna was holding
my breasts. She was licking me to my content. I was ready to release
all of it in her. but then, she was not there anymore.
I
blinked. And in that moment, Madonna was pushed away from between my
legs. It was Amaan with a black strap-on and a whip in her mouth pushing
herself into me. The pleasure increased tenfold. I let go of the robe
from my mouth and lost myself.
Imagining Amaan’s
swinging breasts in front of me, while she breathed down my shoulder
brought me jubilation. I continued fingering myself until I came. My
body twitched until I opened my eyes. I looked around and saw myself as I
spoiled the bathroom floor. I looked for some towels and dipped them in
water before wiping the floor with them.
After
flushing the toilet, I stood in front of a sink. I turned the hot water
on and started rinsing my hands. When I looked up into the mirror, I saw
myself smiling in glee.
That smile, it felt wrong. What was I doing?
I turned the tap off and splashed the remaining drops on my face.
Don’t worry, it wasn’t cheating. I was not cheating on Mad. Nothing happened. An imagination doesn’t count…
…Right?
I
entered the room where Amaan was still fast asleep. I felt no shame or
guilt when I looked at her. Given that I was looking at her by flashing
my phone at her wasn’t part of the deal, but still. All I could see was
another woman sleeping on her own bed with no clothes on. And it’d be
disrespectful if I didn’t accept that.
Thus, to
show that I accepted Amaan’s ways and her hobbies, I undid my robe and
walked to my side of the bed. I laid there with my back against her to
resume my sleep.
If our bodies touched, it’d be bad. But if our bodies touched my mistake, it’s be just a mistake.
I
closed my eyes. I stretched my legs. I raised my arms over my head.
Then I flipped myself. By the time my limbs relaxed, my leg was touching
her thigh, my one arm was in contact with her hair, and the other one
fell over her waist. The fact that our breasts were touching each other
didn’t make me uncomfortable one bit.
Relieved that I was doing nothing wrong, I smiled myself back to sleep.
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