Free Edge of Extasy: X is for Xanthe Part One by Issa Cherry Page B

this, I was
certain.
    ‘I am not going to hurt you, if that is what
you are worried about, Xanthe?’
    He spoke as he moved another couple of paces
before continuing:
    ‘Not unless you want me to, Xanthe.’
    The way he spoke, the way he said my name
was restrained but authoritative.
    ‘Now turn around and face the bench’ he
ordered. Something in his voice told me I should comply.
    Standing with my back to him, he came
closer. So close that I could feel his breath to the side of my
face as I attempted to turn my head to look in his direction.
    ‘Do not turn around, Xanthe’ he whispered
only inches from my left ear. A potent mix of fear and anticipation
spread through my body.
    ‘Look, whatever it is you are going to do,
can you just get it over and done with?’ I attempted to bluff.
    ‘What? Spoil all the fun by rushing, Xanthe?
No wonder you are left with trying to fulfil your own desires.’
    He was so close that a quick elbow to his
stomach would surely wind him and give me my chance to escape, but
I seemed to have become frozen to the spot.
    ‘What is it you want?’ my head was spinning
while my body threatened to betray me by wanting the touch of this
stranger.
    ‘This is not about what I want, Xanthe. Now
put your hands on the bench and stand with your feet shoulder width
apart.’
    Why should I take orders from a stranger? My
reasoning had gone out the window and been replaced with a budding
sense of wantonness.
    ‘Good girl’ he drawled as I complied with
his orders. ‘Tell me: do you want me to touch you Xanthe?’
    ‘Yes!’ I rasped.
    ‘I will touch you. If you attempt to turn
around I will end this immediately. Do you understand, Xanthe?’
    ‘Yes. I understand.’
    His use of my name had me mesmerized.
    I heard sounds. The change of direction from
the beam of light told me he had put down the flashlight. I heard
the sound of him removing clothing. In the coldness of the cellar,
my partially naked back suddenly felt the warmth of a firm male
torso pressing into it.
    ‘You must trust me Xanthe.’
    Muscled arms appeared at my front, wrapping
around me firmly. His hands felt their way slowly around my waist
before withdrawing. I was pinned between the heavy stone bench and
the rock solid feel of his body. Denim jeans touched against my
buttocks keeping me from the promise of what lay within their
confines.
    ‘Do you trust me, Xanthe?’
    ‘Yes!’ my response leapt without hesitation
from my mouth as those hands reappeared holding what I instantly
recognised to be one of my own satin scarves.
    ‘I can’t help but notice you like satin,’ he
said as he held the scarf tautly across my body and dragged it
roughly up the length of my torso. He then yanked it over my
breasts causing them to be lifted skyward before dropping with a
bounce afterwards. My nipples stood erect as a result of having the
material flicked over them.
    I felt goose bumps trailing in the wake of
satin as the scarf continued over my décolleté and collarbone.
    ‘Satin seems to heighten your pleasure,
Xanthe.’
    The scarf tightened around my neck briefly
before tracing its way past my jaw and chin. Then it moved over my
nose before finally resting over my eyes.
    ‘So you won’t be tempted to peak,
Xanthe’
    He deftly tied the scarf as a blindfold over
my eyes.
    For what seemed like an eternity he made no
sound and no discernable movement. I ached from within, waiting and
hoping he was about to have his wicked way with me. Eventually, I
felt firm fingers grasping both of my ankles. Then the movement
upward began, with fingertips blazing a path simultaneously along
the inside of my calves. The slow movement of his hands showed no
respect for my body’s impatience.
    Reaching higher, he paused to caress my
knees. His fingers stayed still whilst his thumbs traced back and
forth along the crease denoting the divide between my lower and
upper legs. Never had a man’s touch felt so exhilarating on these
non-erogenous areas of