Blindfolded Innocence

by Alessandra Torre

  His expression turned scornful. "By who? Nineteen year old frat boys whose version of foreplay is having you give them a blow job?"

  I silenced. He did have a point. Damn him.

  "Seriously, let's just drop it. I've accepted it, you need to do the same."

  "Do I look like a man who gives in easily?" He looked like a man who was too damn gorgeous for words. His bare torso was that of a Roman Gladiator. It was thick, knotted with muscles that flexed and popped when he moved. His waist was thick and muscular, and my hands couldn't seem to stay away from his massive arms. He pushed me back on the bed and moved, sliding down my body until his face was at my stomach.

  My mind realized what he was about to do before my mouth did. "Waaa…. Stop!" My shrill voice caused him to raise his head and look at me.

  "What?"

  "What are you doing?"

  "What do you think I'm doing?"

  "I…err…don't do that." As a matter of fact, no one had ever done "that" to me. I had always been self conscious about the thought that a man would be placing his mouth on my most private part. What if it smelled, or tasted bad? What if I didn't like what he did? Would he be offended if I told him to stop? It just seemed easier to skip the act all together. And I had never gotten any pushback about it. Truth be told, I think college guys were as scared of the act as I was.

  "Don't do that, or haven't done that?"

  "Both."

  "Julia. Trust me." I looked down at his eyes and saw a hint of it. The pleading look. He really wanted to do this. Wanted it like how I needed the earlier release. It wasn't the power trip that I had been looking for, but it was as close as I could get right now. I nodded mutely, closed my eyes, and steeled myself for disaster.

  Brad slowly rolled down my panties until they reached my knees, and then he pulled them off. He spread my legs and paused, breathing the scent of me and letting me feel his hot breath. I felt so incredibly exposed, my legs open and him staring at me, my lips, that close up… I looked at myself in a hand mirror once and had been scared to death at what I saw. All of the different colors and shapes… I tried to breathe normally but felt like I was about to hyperventilate. I glanced down. He was focused, not looking up at me. The sight of his muscular, manly body in between my legs was erotic, and I felt my moistness grow. He leaned down and I braced myself.

  The first feel of his mouth on my sex startled me. I had been expecting it, steeled for the moment, but it still surprised me. I expected to feel a tongue - pushing and protruding. Instead he placed his whole mouth on me, a blanket of wet hotness. I tried to figure out how he was making the sensations I was feeling, but all thought left my head the moment he started moving his tongue. I lost all sense of feeling except between my legs. It was like every sensory receptacle on my body all immediately fled their post and converged "there". A sensation similar to an itch started to grow between my legs, with a building pressure behind it. I wrapped my legs tight around Brad's head and grabbed his hair with my hands. From some other plane I heard my voice saying "oh fuck" over and over but I had no consciousness of speech or of how to get myself to stop. My shyness had fled, and I knew nothing but undeniable pleasure. He continued whatever ridiculously delicious thing he was doing with his mouth and the itch grew strong, my body twitching to keep it under control. A wave of strong, intense sensation grew, swelling, me unable to control it. I tucked my pelvis up, grinding my sex into his face and hearing my voice grow louder. Holy Shit it is actually happening i am about to have an

  My body exploded. I arched my back, spread my toes and felt the earth stars and moon collide. The core of my body shattered in a feeling I can only describe as the most incredible experience of my entire life. The itch was satisfied in the purest form of pleasure, so pure that I felt almost pain at the intensity of it. Waves of pleasure, sweet and incredible radiated out from my sex. I screamed, so loud that I know people four rooms over could hear, but I couldn't spare any possible brainpower to tell myself to quiet down; all of my senses were overwhelmed by the ecstasy of the orgasm. "OH FUUUCCCCKKKKKKKK!"

  The orgasm faded, some delicious tendrils hanging around a little longer than others, and my body was shaking uncontrollably by the time the last one left my body. Sensual waves of pleasure were still gently washing over me, gradually disappearing, when Brad took his mouth off of my body. I laid on the bed, delirious and twitching with aftershocks. My eyes were closed, and I kind of heard him moving around. I didn't have the energy to open my eyes. I was spent, naked and laying there, legs spread, exposed, and I didn't give a damn. The man had drained all reasonable thought or feeling from my body. It took a good two minutes before I felt like I could move again.

  I tested my legs, moving them one at a time, and then lazily rolled over, propping myself up on one arm.

  Brad leaned back in a soft chair; legs sprawled out in front of him, one hand playing with his mouth. He watched me, a small smile on his lips. I looked at him through drugged eyes.

  "Pretty proud of yourself, aren't you?"

  He spread his hands, palms up, shrugged his shoulders, in a "hey, what can I say?" gesture.

  "I faked that."

  His outburst of laughter surprised both of us and I joined in, giggling and rolling over on the bed. He stood and ambled over, dropping down next to me. The whole bed shook with the extra weight.

  I glanced at the clock. 9:18am. "How long'd it take me?"

  "About 4 minutes."

  "Damn."

  He was amused. "You wanted it to take longer?"

  "No! I didn't want anymore fodder for your big ego." I snorted. "Not that I accomplished that."

  He reached over and brushed a lock of hair, tucking it behind my ear. "Do you regret it?" he said softly.

  I flopped onto my back. "Are you kidding? That was the single best moment of my entire life! I've never been so happy to be wrong."

  I rolled over again, my face inches from his, and looked at him with seriousness. "Thank you. I owe you one."

  He leaned forward and gently kissed my lips. "Don't mention it."

  CHAPTER 17

  My limbs felt ridiculously loose and lazy, and I wandered, still mostly naked, to the bathroom. I closed the door, stripped off my bra, and dropped it onto the floor. I reached into the shower and turned every jet in the place on full force. Steam quickly filled the bathroom and I gingerly stepped into the hot spray. It felt like a thousand little fingers massaging me and I stood still for a good five minutes, letting the spray warm and awaken my body. Finally, I stopped being lazy and grabbed the small shower gel bottle, squeezing a generous amount into my palm and then running my hands all over my body. I heard the door click open and through the fogged glass door I saw Brad's head lean in the bathroom.

  "Julia."

  "Uh-huh?"

  "I'm ordering in breakfast. What would you like?"

  "Ummm…. two scrambled eggs with grits and fruit please."

  I heard his muted voice and then his head stuck back in.

  "They don't have grits."

  Oh right. Not in the South any more. "Anything else is fine."

  His head disappeared, and I heard the door shut. I used the shampoo and worked my hair into a lather, loving the warm water hitting me from all directions. This is the life.

  Five minutes later, I reluctantly turned off the shower and stepped out onto the plush white bathmat. The bathroom was a hot, steamy sauna, and I wrapped my hair in a fluffy towel and walked to the closet. I had remembered seeing bathrobes there, and I snagged one off of the hanger and pulled it on. I washed my face at the sink, and then reached for my toothbrush. I blushed, thinking of our deep kiss just a half hour earlier, wondering how bad my morning breath had been. I brushed extra long and hard, hoping to make up for any stinkiness I had exhibited earlier.

  When I was finally satisfied with my teeth, I unwound my towel and tried to towel-dry my hair as best I could. I got it somewhat un-wet, fluffed my hair, and walked back into the suite.

>   Brad sat at the dining table, a phone to his ear. He was faced away from me, looking at the Strip. His legs stretched out, one hand spinning a water bottle on the table, he looked every bit the powerful man he was. He wore a baby blue polo, faded jeans, and white and silver new Nikes.

  "Tell her to stay in the house, change the locks, and don't answer if he knocks. If he pesters her, call Security. The dues they pay in that gated community should more than cover a security guard intelligent and experienced enough to write a decent police report. First thing Monday we will file an emergency injunction against him. Tell her to relax. Anything he does right now will only help our case. And for god's sake, keep her away from the pool boy! I want us surveilling her day and night, for her protection, but also to keep an eye out for other PIs. I have a feeling they will be trying to catch her in something, and I want to have a head start on them."

  "Exactly."

  "If you need a good guy call Romanelli. He owes me one."

  "You too brother."

  He hung up the call and turned to stand, pausing when he saw me in the room. A smile broke out on his face. "Have a nice shower?"

  "Amazing. I want to pack that shower up and take it home with me."

  "Tomorrow you should try the bath." His voice had turned slightly sexual, and I fought back a blush.

  There was a polite knock at the door. Brad pulled out the leather dining chair to the right of his seat, and indicated I should sit. He strode to the door and swung it open. A petite Asian woman with a large room service cart entered, wheeling it towards the table. I started to rise, and she shook her head and arms.

  "No, no. You sit." Her broken English was accompanied by a sweet smile, and she scurried around the cart, unloaded the dishes. Brad returned to his seat, pausing on the way to kiss the top of my head. The damn man was an enigma. The server made quick work of the loaded cart, and before long the table was filled with small plates of breakfast items. She left a small vase of wildflowers in front of Brad and me, did a slight bow and left.

  My requested eggs, yogurt, and fruit were present, along with orange juice and milk. Brad had ordered a full breakfast for himself, and heaped bacon, hash browns, and a waffle onto the large plate already containing an omelette. We ate in silence for a few minutes, than Brad spoke.

  "We have dinner reservations at Prime tonight, and tickets to a Cirque show at 10pm. That leaves the day pretty much up to you. I'll leave Philipe's number for you. He’s my host. He can arrange anything you are interested in."

  I blinked, halfway through a biscuit that I had snagged from one of his gabillion plates. "You're leaving me?"

  He laughed. "Oh, how many times I've heard that one."

  "Hahaha." I glowered at him and took another huge bite of biscuit.

  "I have stuff to do. Mainly gambling. Stuff you won't be interested in. I'll regroup with you at dinner. Trust me, you'll have a fine time without me." He winked and went back to eating, apparently done with the conversation.

  I felt the happy bubble that had enveloped me since my first orgasm begin to deflate. I don't know what I had envisioned, but him leaving me in the room while he handled his "stuff" all day wasn't it. I grumbled to myself and jerked open the lid to the yogurt with unnecessary vigor. He eyed me carefully, sensing my irritability. It wasn't that hard to sense. I was practically beating him over the head with it.

  "You're not going to start crying again are you?"

  This thought struck me as so absurd that I burst out laughing. I laughed until tears threatened and milk started to come from my nose. I quieted down and shook my head, still shaking slightly.

  "That was a one time thing. I swear. I'm typically not a cryer. I don't know what came over me." Plus, now I don't have to debate about having sex with you. I know what I want. I could feel the bright red color of my face and I studiously avoided his eyes, focusing really hard on finding the perfect scoop of Dannon strawberry yogurt.

  "Any guesses?"

  I set down the yogurt and met his eyes. "If I want a shrink, I'll use the ridiculously long day stretching before me and ask "Philipe" to send me one. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go to MY room to start my sentence!" Knowing full well how juvenile I was acting, I tossed down my yogurt and stomped off, headed to the other room. Brad caught my arm as I passed his chair and stood, spinning me around and holding me by the arms. He kissed me, firm and hard, and then released me.

  "I'll see you tonight." He cheerfully sauntered into the master bedroom, and emerged 20 seconds later with a room key in hand. I stood there, arms crossed, feeling rather silly in my plush robe and wet hair, and watched as he winked at me, then left the room. The door shut quietly behind him.

  Fuck. That just made it pretty freaking clear who had upper hand. I flopped down on the sofa to lament my woes, and then grabbed my cell off the coffee table and punched in Olivia's number.

  She answered on the second ring.

  "Please tell me you are alive and safe."

  "Very alive and pretty safe." I teased.

  "Having a good time?"

  I wandered through the suite and pondered her question. "Pretty good. We didn't do much last night, just checked in and went to bed." I decided to leave out my hysterical crying fit.

  "Bed? or BED?"

  I giggled. "Just normal bed, Olivia. He has been a gentlemen, and we have a two-room suite." Not that the second room has been used.

  "So you slept separately?"

  "Yes. Kind of. There was some cuddling."

  "Wow. You are so wild and crazy. " she monotoned. "Cuddling? On the second date? Becca would tear you a new asshole if she heard this."

  The room phone rang, and I glanced over my shoulder and frowned at it.

  "Becca? I'm going to have to call you back."

  CHAPTER 18

  I looked at the phone, unsure of whether I should answer it or not. Finally I bit the bullet and picked up the receiver. It was the concierge, confirming our 7pm dinner reservation at Prime, and asking if we wanted a house limo to take to the show. Unsure, I went ahead and reserved the car. I would check with Brad during dinner to see if I needed to cancel it. I remember Brad asking me, or Tiffany, to reserve a car for him, but hadn't seen a rental car yet. Maybe he was using it now; doing whatever important "stuff" he had to do.

  I sat back at the table and munched on a few breakfast potatoes, mulling over my day. I decided to hit the hotel pool, and then spend the afternoon at the spa. I fingered the card that Brad had left, and dialed Philipe's extension.

  A male voice answered on the second ring, stiff and business-like. It warmed dramatically when I identified myself.

  "Ms. Campbell! How can I help you?"

  "I was thinking about going to the spa this afternoon. Could you help me to book some services?"

  "Certainly. Just let me know what services you would like."

  "I was thinking about a massage?"

  "Julia. In Vegas, you need to go big. Let me put you down for a full treatment. Make that beautiful man treat you right."

  "Your the boss, Philipe." I smiled into the receiver.

  "Shall I put you down for one o’clock?"

  "That would be perfect. Thank you." I was preparing to hang up when he spoke again.

  "What are you doing between now and one?"

  "I was going to go to the pool."

  He clicked his tongue into the receiver. "You don't want to go to the hotel's pool, it is a zoo. Give me a call when you're ready, and I’ll have someone escort you to our VIP pool."

  "You rock."

  I could hear his smile. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

  "Talk to you soon."

  I hung up the phone, and moseyed to the bedroom, flipping on the clock radio when I got to the room. My outlook had brightened considerably after speaking to Philipe. Why had I been pissed to spend the day alone? I pushed a few of the presets until I found a top 40 station. I turned up the volume and walked into the closet, unzipping my suitcase and flipp
ing it open. I had only packed one bathing suit, an electric blue bikini. I dropped my robe and stepped into the suit bottoms, tightening the side ties. A Rihanna song started on the radio, and I sang and danced my way into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth again, and then applied some waterproof mascara and lip gloss. My hair was still damp, so I ran a big comb through it, and pulled it into a low knot. Becca had loaned me a sheer white cover-up, and I grabbed it and my bikini top out of my suitcase. I put them both on, and picked up the bathroom phone. I dialed Philipe's extension.

  "Already ready?"

  "Yes sir."

  "Someone will be there shortly."