It had been a week since I’d returned from my getaway, a break that had done wonders to recharge me. Was it the distance that had stoked Nathan’s desire, or was he making a deliberate effort to keep the spark between us alive? Whatever the reason, he was different. Bolder, more engaged. Not domineering, but exuding a new kind of masculinity that stirred something deep within me. At night, instead of retreating to his computer, he sought me out, his fingers grazing my skin with a purpose that sent shivers down my spine. And, I’ll admit, I reveled in it.
That evening, I dragged myself home from work, my body heavy from a day of relentless tasks. Even my midday break, where I’d let my mind wander to forbidden fantasies (my boss, his commanding hands, and scenarios deliciously depraved) hadn’t eased my exhaustion.
“Phew, I’m wiped,” I sighed, kicking off my sneakers, my bare feet relishing the cool touch of the hardwood floor. That sensation, the contrast between my warm skin and the chilled wood, always felt like an pleasant caress.
I collapsed onto the couch, face-first, surrendering to the embrace of the cushions, even if the position pressed against my chest and made breathing a little awkward. I was too drained to care.
From his desk, Nathan watched me flop down, a playful smile tugging at his lips. His glasses slipped slightly down his nose, and his messy brown hair gave him that effortlessly geeky, irresistibly charming look.
“Well, I guess tonight’s not the night to take you out to dinner,” he teased, his voice laced with a mischief that coaxed a tired smile from me.
I groaned into the cushion, my face half-buried. For three days, I’d been begging him to go out to eat, and tonight was the night he brought it up?
“Don’t worry,” he went on, rising from his desk, his Mass Effect t-shirt clinging to his frame. “I figured you’d be beat. You said today would be rough at work. So, I planned for us to eat here.”
I lifted my head just enough to mutter, “Thank God,” before sinking back into the couch, savoring the thought of not having to move. Then, I sat up properly, my eyes following Nathan as he moved to the open kitchen. His movements were smooth, confident, and I couldn’t help but notice how his jeans hugged his thighs, a detail that, in my weary state, felt oddly mesmerizing.
“I’ve got something special planned tonight,” he called from the kitchen, his voice tinged with excitement. “Not exactly gourmet, but I know you’ll like it.” He paused, then added with a grin I could hear, “Though, honestly, what I’ve got in mind is mostly for me.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You shouldn’t have said that. I was this close to calling you the perfect boyfriend.”
He stepped back into the living room, his brown eyes glinting with mischief behind his glasses. In his hand, he held a black silk blindfold.
“Alright, it’s special,” he murmured, closing the distance between us, the silk dancing between his fingers. “But I need you to trust me.”
Nathan approached, his footsteps soft on the hardwood, and slipped the black silk blindfold over my eyes with an infinite tenderness that was so uniquely his. His fingers brushed a stray red curl, tucking it gently behind my ear. Then, his hand trailed down my neck, grazing my skin almost imperceptibly until it reached the swell of my breasts. A shiver coursed through me, tinged with frustration as he pulled away, leaving me caught between desire and longing. In that moment, my exhaustion faded, overshadowed by the heat rising within me.
“Lie down,” he murmured, his voice low and soft.
“To eat?” I teased, a playful edge to my tone.
“Yes,” he replied, and I could almost see the mischievous curve of his smile through the blindfold.
I stretched out on the couch.
“Let me take care of everything,” he said gently. “And no moving, understood?”
His fingers found the button of my jeans, easing them off with deliberate slowness. In less than a minute, I lay there, blindfolded, in my underwear, vulnerable and electrified. A shiver ran through me, whether from the cool air or the promise of what was to come, I couldn’t tell.
I heard him step away, then return, the faint clink of something, perhaps a tray, settling on the coffee table. His hands returned, unclasping my bra with expert precision, the fabric sliding away to free my breasts. My panties followed, and I was bare, exposed, my nipples hardening in the cool air and a warm dampness stirring between my thighs.
“Odd outfit for dinner,” I said with a soft laugh, trying to mask the intensity of my feelings.
Nathan ignored my quip. “While you were away,” he began, his voice low, “Léo told me about a bachelor party he went to.”
Something cool and light touched my stomach, just above my navel. It was solid yet delicate, and I had no idea what it was. My body flinched slightly at the unexpected sensation.
“And I have to admit,” he continued, placing another object just above the first, his voice growing deeper, “when he described one of the activities, the first thing I thought of was you.” He paused, his words sinking in as he placed more of these mysterious items, inching up toward the base of my breasts. “As in… something I wanted to do with you.”
He went on, each placement a deliberate caress. “Honestly, this idea has been haunting me ever since,” he murmured.
It was the first time Nathan had so openly shared a fantasy about me, and the confession set me ablaze. I reached out, wanting to touch him, to feel his warmth, but he caught my wrist with a gentle firmness. “No,” he said, his tone almost stern but softened by affection. “You don’t move until I’m done.”
He continued, placing an object on each of my nipples, pressing lightly so the strangely pliable material molded to their shape. Then he moved upward, toward my neck, and a faint scent reached me. Makis. It hit me all at once.
“You’re… covering me with makis?” I asked, caught between astonishment and laughter.
“Yes,” he said simply, a smile in his voice.
He paused at the base of my neck, then moved downward, placing a maki just below my navel, sending another shiver through me. Another, lower still, grazed the edge of my sex, and my breath caught in my throat.
“And what was this bachelor party activity?” I asked, feigning curiosity to hide the effect he was having on me.
“It’s called body sushi,” he explained, his voice vibrant with playful satisfaction. “The idea is to eat makis off someone’s naked body… in this case, yours.”
He took my hands, gently pressing them palm-down against the couch, and placed a maki in each. “There,” he said, his tone brimming with triumph. “I’m going to enjoy this.”
“And me?” I teased, more to rile him than anything else.
“You’ll get yours after, don’t worry,” he replied. “For now, you’re tired. Just lie there and rest.”
Before I could respond, I felt his warm, wet lips brush my skin just above my navel. The heat of his mouth claimed the maki, sending an electric shiver through me.
Then, I felt again his lips brushing my left breast to claim the maki resting there. But before closing his mouth, he lingered, gently sucking my nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. When he pulled away, a shiver ran through my body, and I bit my lip, stifling a sigh that threatened to escape.
“Sounds like you’re enjoying this,” he murmured, his voice rich with playful satisfaction.
“Yes, I love the feel of your lips on my skin,” I replied, keeping to myself the deeper truth: what truly set me ablaze was the sensation of being, in that moment, a mere object of his desire, a living canvas for his pleasure. It was the first time I felt “used” by Nathan, and though it was far from my usual fantasies, the thought made my sex pulse with wet heat.
He continued, savoring each maki with deliberate slowness, the pauses between bites leaving me suspended between frustration and anticipation. When his tongue grazed the top of my sex to retrieve the maki placed there, I couldn’t hold back a moan.
“More,” I breathed, my voice trembling.
“It’ll come,” he replied, a smile in his tone. “This is my moment.”
It was the first time he’d denied one of my requests, and that unexpected firmness sent my excitement soaring. He was in control, and I surrendered. God, how long had I craved this?
He continued his exploration, his mouth tracing my body, each touch sending waves of heat through me. Then, he whispered, “Open your mouth.”
I complied, salivating in anticipation, imagining the warmth of him sliding between my lips. To my surprise, it was a maki he placed there. Disappointed for a moment, I realized as I chewed that I was ravenous, and the salty taste was a welcome pleasure.
As I was still chewing, I felt his face settle between my thighs, his tongue exploring my folds with a precision that stole my breath. A muffled moan escaped me, half-choked by the food.
Nathan lifted his head, chuckling. “No talking with your mouth full,” he teased before diving back in, devouring me with a passion I barely recognized. He’d left the makis in my hands, likely on purpose, pinning me in place. I was exposed, vulnerable, surrendered to his ravenous mouth, unable to do anything but moan and yield to the pleasure. His tongue, honed by years together, danced over the secret paths of my clitoris, hitting every sensitive spot with devilish accuracy.
Minutes later, I felt two fingers slide inside me, their ease betraying my arousal. Normally, I needed more, but the strangeness of the moment, the pent-up tension, pushed me over the edge. An orgasm surged through me, and I let out an unrestrained cry, my body trembling with delicious aftershocks.
“You okay?” Nathan asked, a smile audible in his voice.
“How could I not be?” I replied between breaths, still dazed.
“Can I finish my meal while you recover?” he teased. “Don’t worry, I’ll share some, and there’s a tray for you after.”
Still buzzing with latent desire, I blurted, “Yes, but I want to feel you in my mouth while you finish. Your member, not makis…”
A silence followed, and a shiver of fear ran through me. Had I gone too far? Despite his newfound boldness, Nathan was still so… vanilla. My breath caught, waiting for his response.
“Listen,” he said at last, his voice deeper, “I don’t see how I could say no to that.”
I felt him shift, then the warm touch of his tip against my lips, a contact that flooded my body with relief and desire.
“Take your time finishing your meal,” I murmured, before parting my lips to welcome him.
A raw groan escaped Nathan’s throat as he slid into my mouth, filling it with his warmth in a bold, measured thrust. “God, I missed this,” he sighed, his voice trembling with pleasure.
It was true that since my return, I hadn’t yet had the chance to offer him this particular intimacy, and truthfully, I’d missed it as much as, if not more than, he had. A muffled moan was my only reply, vibrating against him.
Still pinned by the makis in my hands and the position, I let him set the pace, his movements slow and deliberate, almost possessive. He wasn’t fully giving in yet, but we were close, and that edge of newfound boldness sent shivers through every fiber of my being. As he continued to savor the makis on my body, he relished the pleasure I gave him, his pace slowing noticeably. No doubt, as I’d suggested, he wanted to stretch this suspended moment.
“This is hands-down one of the best meals of my life,” he said with a laugh.
His breathing quickened, and I sensed he’d stopped eating. His movements in my mouth grew deeper, more urgent. “Emma… I’m not gonna last much longer,” he breathed, his voice rough with need.
At his words, I instinctively tightened my lips around him, straining to lift my head despite the awkward position, desperate to take him deeper. That was the final spark. A guttural groan, more intense than any I’d ever heard from him, tore through the air, and I felt his release flood me, warm and abundant, a reward that set my body alight. Though I couldn’t touch myself, the pleasure was there, intense, almost overwhelming. Nathan pressed deeper, another primal growl rising from his core, nearly choking me. But I held on, determined to preserve the magic of the moment, not wanting to show him and letting him walk away for fear of pushing too far.
After a moment, I felt his warmth subside, his body softening. He withdrew gently, and I kept my lips tight, careful not to let a single drop escape. Once alone, I swallowed it all, choosing not to push the boundaries too far this time.
A heavy sigh echoed, and I heard him collapse into the armchair, catching his breath. “Can I sit up?” I asked softly, a smile in my voice.
“Yeah, sorry,” he said, snapping back to himself. He stood, carefully removing the remaining makis, including those in my hands, then helped me sit up. His fingers slipped the blindfold off, and our eyes met. His brown gaze sparkled with mischief and a newfound tenderness. He leaned in, pressing a soft, almost shy kiss to my lips that he had just defiled.
Then, with a crooked smile, he handed me a tray. “A maki to wash it all down?”
Needless to say, Japanese night was about to become our weekly ritual.
—-
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