Hidden It was a convenience that she liked blindfolds. Not because he didn’t want to look

Hidden It was a convenience that she liked blindfolds. Not because he didn’t want to look at her; her eyes were beautiful and expressive, and they way they flitted from one subject to another made him feel that tiny bit more alive. No, the convenience was that she wouldn’t be able to see him. She wouldn’t be able to see the way the smile was forced from his lips, or the way that he buried his face into her shoulder after they were done fucking. She wouldn’t have to see the fact that he looked guilty, that despite all the fun they’d just had, he knew that this was temporary. Monotony was an ugly word, but that was what this had become. The same toys, the same rope, the same smutty insults that got under her skin and brought a flush to her cheeks. Kink was supposed to be an escape from monotony, a way to spice up the lovelife, and yet somehow he’d managed to find himself in a rut. Somehow the kink wasn’t enough, either that or he wasn’t doing enough with it. The places he wanted to explore felt ever so slightly out of reach, brushing seductively against his fingertips in such a way that the frustration hovered in the doorway of his mind, causing a nuisance. And somehow she was oblivious. She was smiling, her lips curled in a pretty curve. He imagined her eyes were smiling, too, the corners crinkled slightly, the pupils ever so slightly dilated. He was sure it was beautiful, sure it would make him want to kiss her, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull the cloth from her eyes.  Better that one of them was happy, just for the moment. Ignorance was bliss, after all, and this was a truth that he’d rather keep to himself, at least until he could figure out a solution to it. His hand sank to her belly, fingertips creating slight divets in the firm skin, as he’d done a thousand times before. He kissed her anyway, roused himself to enough life that she didn’t get suspicious. “That was lovely.” She murmured the words, but they came out like a sigh. It was the wrong thing to say. Too much like something you’d say after the first sip of tea on a nice summer’s afternoon. Too much of a statement of fact. Too… he searched for the word, fumbling around a lethargic mind. Comfortable. It was too comfortable. He didn’t want comfortable. He wanted challenging. Maybe that made him an unsatisfied bastard. Perhaps. Not that it changed anything. His own acerbic thoughts made himself smile. That was better. His fingers came up and he teased at the corners of the blindfold. He was ready to face her again. -- source link

More pics about