Blind

Once, drunk, we fuck with our eyes shut. Both of us, entangled in a duvet nest on the floor of the living room, groping blind. It is strange: I reach for one part of her and find another – some architecture of skin and bone and lip and finger that I cannot quite fit with the map of her body I have in my head.

Reaching for her neck I find her ear. I catch the ridge of it and I feel it between finger and thumb. It’s a soft, intimate bit of skin, velvety and pliable, nestled in under her hair. At the same time her hand finds my ribs and slides along them, feeling each one. Cold little hand.

We touch one another, giggling. A wrist. A thumb. She slips a finger into my belly button. Yelps when I accidentally tickle her armpit. When we try to kiss we bump heads, but manage on the second attempt. It’s different, kissing without seeing. Her mouth feels warm and secret, and I cannot tell what parts of her are touching what parts of me.

Her fingers explore my back. Creep down to my arse and reach between my legs to cup my balls. I trace the bumps of her spine at the top of her neck. Then the crease between her leg and her torso. Then her hip. I’m seeking her cunt. It takes some time to find it, but when I do it feels wet and engorged under my hand – a hot and sensitive mound of flesh.

We roll together in the duvet nest. She finds my cock, eventually. We reorient ourselves, eyes still tight shut, and in the act of reorienting ourselves lose our way once again. I lick her armpit. She bites my thigh. Her hair brushes between my legs. I feel something beside my face, and it requires some time and some exploration to realise that it is her foot.

When she does find me with her mouth it comes as a surprise. A hot, sweetly wet, gripping thing enveloping the head of my cock. Does it always feel like this when she sucks me? Her mouth feels deep and tight, her tongue gripping. A motile, eager thing that engulfs me easily and eagerly.

Disorientated by the sensation of it, I look for her cunt. I really want to find her cunt. After a moment I’m able to identify her hip, her thigh. I loop my arms around her and pull my face into her cunt and lick blindly. She tastes coppery, slippy wet, a slight charge to the fluid on my tongue, like licking the terminals of a battery.

I work my tongue between her legs and she sucks my cock, and I lose the sense of where either of us are. It feels like she’s soaking into my skin. Like we have become blurry. Our breathing synced, rhythmic, inhaling one another. She grips me tightly. Or I grip her. It’s hard to tell where each movement and breath and impulse originates.

Eventually, after a long time between one another’s legs, we disentangle. Reorient ourselves. Fit ourselves together again. Sweat-slick skin sliding over sweat-slick skin. We fumble. Wriggle. Clutch. And then (again, it happens with surprising swiftness) I’m inside her, and we are fucking. Eyes still shut. I find that I can feel the walls of her cunt, the tight clutch of them, with unexpected exactness. She’s in my arms, her ribs expanding and contracting in my grip with each breath. Her hair in my face. Her hand clutching my wrist.

I can see these things only in my head – as vivid sense impressions, oddly amplified. I’ve never felt her cunt this soft and yielding and deep and warm and wet and open before. I’ve never felt her body so tense and tight and gripping and alive. The way she clutches my wrist – it feels like our skin is fusing.

We fuck for a long time. I come inside her. In the moment of orgasm everything becomes indefinite. Myself and her and the duvet beneath us, and the room around us, and the air in my lungs. Everything I feel is a part of me. Rooted in. I feel my come pumping into her. I feel her accepting it.

Afterwards we lie together, still joined, breathless but still. I keep my eyes shut. I don’t want to be the first to open them.