I knelt down on the floor in the center of our living room, knees padded by the soft wall-to-wall carpeting. The lights were dimmed, and I had set up a number of candles around the room. I knew John was on his way, having received his text twenty minutes ago that he was leaving his office. So I waited patiently, blindfolded and with hands locked in cuffs behind my back. I was filled with anticipation, wondering what he would do when he laid eyes on me as he came in the door. My little Valentine's Day surprise for him!
We'd both been so busy with work and schedules recently, we hadn't had time to connect. The previous week, I had been off on business to the west coast. And here it was Sunday, and John had to spend it in the office due to a big project deadline this week. It had been weeks since we'd had the opportunity to do anything more than say hello to each other as we bumped into one another on our respective paths through the daily grind.
So, while I was out of town, I worked out in my head a plan to give him a little surprise for Valentine's Day—a little something wild, a little something for us to explore together, and hopefully a little something to give both of us a lot of fun and pleasure. The whole week I kept playing out what would happen in my mind. And when I had a spare afternoon, I went and did some shopping to pick up a few necessary items.
I was wearing those items as I waited on my knees for John to arrive. My breasts were wrapped in a black, lacy bra that was mostly see-through but sported two large red hearts over each nipple. Matching panties clung to my hips with a similar red heart standing just above my pussy and another on the back just above the crack of my ass. My legs were encased in black, thigh-high nylons with bright red hearts plastered randomly all over them. And my feet sported bright red pumps, each bearing a frilly heart over the toes. I had pulled my dark hair back into a ponytail and fastened it with a black bow decorated with tons of little, heart-shaped polka-dots. The blindfold mask over my eyes was made of black silk and had two large, red hearts, one over each eye. The cuffs holding my hands behind my back were padded with red fluff, and the final touches included bright red lipstick on my lips, matching nail polish on fingernails and toenails, and a pair of little heart-shaped earrings.
My nerves were a bit on edge as I waited. I didn't know how John would react to seeing his wife decked out in solid Valentine's Day decor. My mind started asking itself questions. Did I overdo it, perhaps? Would this make me look too much like a cheap floozy? Or would he like it? I hadn't ever really dressed up like this before for him. And we'd never talked about blindfolds or handcuffs either. Did I go too far?
How long would it take him to get there? How long had it been since his text? How long did it normally take him to get home? How long had I been kneeling already?
I began to realize how true it is that when you deprive one sense, the others take more prominence. As I knelt there, I could hear the sounds of the apartment building around me. A neighbor's door opening and closing. The soft mumbling of someone having a conversation in the apartment above. The pinging of the hot-water baseboard pipes expanding after the thermostat clicked to call for more heat.
The scent from the candles flowed over me, filling my lungs with the sweetness of vanilla mixed with a touch of cinnamon spice. I breathed in deeply and tried to relax, reassuring myself that John was going to like what he saw when he walked in the door.
And then I heard the key in the lock. I straightened my posture, head up high. My back arched forward a bit to thrust my breasts out proudly. Taking a deep breath, I curled my lips up into what I hoped would look like a playful, seductive smile. And then the door opened.
"April, I'm ho..." John's voice faltered.
I held my pose, knowing his eyes were likely taking a stroll over the contours of my body.
"Welcome home, dear!" I said in the sauciest voice I could muster.
The silence stretched for what seemed an eternity. My heart felt like it was trying to break a speed record.
"Wow!" He finally said. "You look amazing!"
Butterflies fluttered up from my crotch, and my heart thudded in my chest.
I heard movement then. Steps shifting around. The door closing. The crinkle of plastic. The zipper of a jacket being undone. More sounds and more movement. And then even more. Was that the sound of clothing being tossed on the floor? I began wondering how much he had been wearing, or perhaps he was just being very clumsy with excitement? Then more plastic crinkling. And then, finally, the noises stopped, and I sensed him moving closer to me.
Something soft and delicate touched my upper lip just under my nose.
"Smell," I heard John say.
My lungs expanded, drawing in a deep breath. The scent of a rose filled my nostrils, and I purred softly, delighting in the sensation. The rose shifted to one side and delicately slid down my right cheek. The motion was repeated with my left cheek. My skin tingled from the sensation. The rose shifted again to my lower lip and then was drawn down over my chin and my neck. I sucked in breath as the petals tickled on their way down. The rose slid down to my chest, and then lower to my cleavage. My body tingled, and I knew my skin was flushing. Up and over one breast, and then back to the middle and up and over the other.
But then as quickly as it came, the rose disappeared, and I was left yearning for it to come back.
Instead, my husband kissed me, gently on the lips. I could just barely taste mint on his breath before he pulled back. And then he kissed me again, lightly, on my right cheek. And then again on my left. His lips moved to plant a kiss on my chin, on my neck, on my upper chest. I felt a thrill of excitement course through me, and I gasped audibly. And then I felt his hands on my sides, sliding softly up and under my breasts, cupping them, squeezing them. And then his lips kissing the top of each.
He reached behind me to unfasten the clasp of my bra. The material fell loose about my shoulders. But then he could go no further with it, given that my hands were handcuffed behind—a downside, I realized. After a moment of hesitation, he settled for lifting the cups of the bra up above my breasts.
Then his hands took hold of me again, squeezing and rubbing his thumbs against my nipples. I felt the warmth of his breath, then the flick of his tongue, and finally the sensation of his lips clamping around one and then the other nipple.
And then he was gone again, leaving me alone in the middle of the room, my body aching for more. But nothing came just yet. Instead, I heard more sounds of him moving around. There was a tear and then more plastic crinkling. I heard the soft sound of cardboard sliding against cardboard—was he opening a box?
I could tell he was moving closer again, and then something touched my upper lip.
"Smell," he said again.
I breathed in. Chocolate.
I moved to open my mouth, but the chocolate disappeared.
"Ah! Ah!"
I waited.
