Filthy logo

222

by Nick Solid 3 months ago in fetishes
Report Story

play

2:22am.

The breeze from the open window blew softly past the pale blue drapes as they lightly grazed my skin, and rustled in the glow of the streetlamp lights that crept in along with the wind. Both offered palpable affirmations of the stillness that existed during the night; complimenting each other perfectly as the light danced wildly on every inch of the blue drapes, and the breeze moved the fabric like waves in the ocean. I stood next to this open window, as I had 1000 times before, but this time was different. I exhaled a cloud of smoke from my newly lit spliff, and let out a sigh that seemed to almost crescendo the cacophony of soft, simple sounds happening all around me. I extended my fingertips against the wall, on which I was leaning, and closed my eyes to take in every possible sound that my eardrums could absorb. The raindrops hit the cold concrete ground lightly; the leaves in the trees shuffled and twisted as the wind filled the spaces between the gaps of leaves and branches. I heard the distant hum and pop of a vehicle as it shifted into gear and drove away. I opened my eyes to the street below and noticed a cat lightly prancing across the street; avoiding the puddles like a child hopping from stone to stone across a slow moving stream. It was a scraggly looking kitty, with black and white fur that seemed to bounce up and down with every bouncing step.

I turned from the window and walked a few paces through my dark apartment and grabbed a piece of bread from the kitchen table. Walking back to the open window, I tore a piece of the bread off and tossed it outside; it fell down the 4 floors to the prancing kitty below. As I leaned out the window, I saw the cat lying on its side next to the trunk of the large maple tree that was planted a few feet from the road to give ambiance to the surrounding grey grim stone of the street and buildings. I started to whistle and the cat perked its curious ears; he looked directly up at me with wide eyes. I tossed the bread down and watched it fall; being guided by the light breeze that also still rustled my pale blue drapes. The cat, now sitting up, had eyes on it as well. As soon as it hit the ground, the cat pounced towards it to investigate, and began to paw at it with immediate haste. After a few moments of deliberation and gentle pawing, he scooped it up with his paw and ate the bread in a matter of seconds. The cat, upon finishing the piece of bread, looked up and stared in my direction as if to thank me telepathically. I stared back and went to break another piece of bread to toss down, but he turned to run back across the street he just carefully crossed; dodging the same puddles he so carefully dodged on the way over just minutes ago.

Lost in the moments of interaction with the kitty, I had forgotten about the spliff that was still burning in my left hand. It started to burn the tips of my thumb and index finger. I licked the tips of my fingertips on my right hand and pinched the embers until they were extinguished. I tossed the roach out the window and it drifted through the air towards the ground in a spiralling, almost mesmerizing motion as it was being carried by another light gust of wind. It landed in a small pool of water at the base of the tree, and disappeared in the murky darkness of the dim lit street below. The wind, still blowing lightly, caused the drapes to rustle once more; allowing the light from the streetlamps, directly adjacent to my window, to shower fragments of yellow light against my skin. My arm hairs began to rise as the breeze became cooler and forced some falling rain to drift through my open window and onto my skin.

It was in these moments that I was truly able to feel alive. In the subtle dance of rain, wind, and sound; the eeriness of being awake so late and letting your mind truly wander and utilize the full extent of your senses so purely in a chain of uninterrupted events. I closed my eyes again and felt the rain on my skin; listening to the drops spatter on the cold concrete street below; the brushing leaves of the tree, and the hiss of the wind moving between the bent branches. I opened my eyes again to see the sparkle of the dim yellow light of the streetlamps reflecting off puddles, and glistening like oil mixing with water. I turned to walk back into the veil of darkness that was my apartment and let my eyes adjust so as I could make out everything around me. After a few seconds, the shapes of everything began to appear as if from nowhere. I walked behind my leather couch and let my fingertips trace the cool, tough leather couch cushions as I passed behind them. The hard wood beneath my feet cracked and popped as it had done many times before, like the old wooden planks of a pirate ship might do in the dark, calm hours of early morning on the high seas (in this moment, my drapes sounded like the sails of a ship folding and pulling in the wind that had increased suddenly, almost universally.)

I walked into the kitchen and opened one of the upper cabinets, pulling out a glass. I turned slightly and slid my fingers through the gap between the freezer handle and the freezer door at the top of my fridge. When I opened the freezer, it popped as the suction separated suddenly from its hinges and in that moment the cold air burst out and hit my skin like a rogue wave crashing on the icy shores of land once more. My bare chest began to tighten as I stuck my hand into the dark, cold abyss of the freezer. I felt around with my fingertips until landing on the rigid end of a bottle cap and bottle neck. I clenched all my fingers around the neck of the bottle, and slowly turned and shifted it to shake off the surrounding items that were leaned against it (bags of vegetables and frozen fruits.) I pulled the bottle out slowly and held it in the palms of my hands; turning it slightly to try and make out the brand label on the front. I could feel the grooves of the cold glass, and ran my fingers across the raised portion which indicated the specific bottle shape. The frozen condensation began to form a soft rind as the chilled bottle met the surrounding warm air of the room; I scraped the raised brand label with my fingernails, revealing the name that was underneath “Jameson’s Irish Whisky.” I placed the bottle on the dark countertop and turned back to the opened freezer to get a couple ice cubes to chill my room temperature glass. Again, the hairs on my forearm rose as I thrust my right hand back into the freezer to feel around for the ice tray that seemed miles away at the time. I felt the hard, cold plastic edges of the tray and pulled it out. It, too, began to form a rigid rind as it met the room temperature air. I placed both my hands at either end of the cold plastic tray and twisted the tray which caused a sudden pop and crackle of the individual cubes separating from the individual ice compartments. A couple cubes popped up into the air and back into the tray at a different angle, causing them to stick out above the edge and thus allowing me to pluck them out and drop them into my glass.

I shook my hand which caused the ice to bounce off the inner circumference of the glass, and made a clinking noise while also cooling it down. I placed the glass back down on the counter, picked up the chilled whisky bottle and twisted the frozen cap off. I poured the whisky into the glass and it caused the ice to shuffle and pop slightly as it is introduced to a mildly warmer liquid. The glass began to chill and slightly sweat tiny droplets of water as the liquid met the solid state glass; as this is happening, I re-capped the whisky bottle and slid it into the vacant slot in the open freezer. I closed the freezer door, and it emitted a vacuous puff of chilled air as the suction hit the metal fridge and bonded once more. I turned to grab the glass, which was cool to the touch, and I headed back away from the kitchen towards the living room.

My eyes, now fully adjusted to the darkness of the apartment, focused on the small sliver of golden light emitting from my distant bedroom door. I again passed by the leather couch and let my other hand trace its fingertips along the tough leather of the brown-skinned pillows. My bedroom door grew closer, and the thin sliver of golden light from the bottom crack of the door grew wider with each step I took. With my eyes focusing on the thin band of light beneath my door, my peripheral view began to slip into darkness. Now at the foot of my bedroom door, I stopped and planted my feet firmly in the wooden floor that cracked and popped as I stopped. I rolled my neck and straightened my back which caused a few subtle pops and cracks, much like the ice when it leapt from the tray. I brought the glass to my lips and breathed in the aroma of the whisky as the cool liquid vapours chilled the air under my nose. Old wood, peat and sharp bitters raced past the smell receptors of my nose and ignited my taste buds as my mouth began to water with anticipation. I took a slow, big sip of the whisky and let it settle and sting my tongue as it rolled over every single one of my taste buds. I closed my eyes and opened my throat to let the whisky slide down and cool my stomach and body. I licked my lips and let the now soft burn of the remaining whisky vapours subside and retreat. I extended my hand out to the cool steel of my bedroom door knob and wrapped my fingers around it one at a time. I twisted the knob slowly to the right and heard the inner metal mechanisms twist and shift their way away from the door frame clasps. The large wooden door popped and separated from the door frame which caused the soft golden light to burst through the top and sides of the now vacant space of the doorway. I pushed the door forward slowly and it let out a soft creek that grew in intensity as I pushed it completely open 45 degrees; letting the light from inside wash over my body and illuminate the area around the doorway in a golden haze as my eyes adjusted to the change in atmosphere and light. My retinas tightened, as to allow the light burst to settle and my brain to examine the inside of my room. The intensity calmed, and my senses switched from sight to sound as I heard the rustle of sheets and the clinking of metal on metal. I closed my eyes, again to darkness once more, and fully succumbed to my sense of sound for some brief moments. Metals began clinking and shifting, sheets rustling; and then the slightest, softest inkling of a light muffled murmur followed by the lightest groan. I used my newly adjusted eyes to see what I knew was there; just as I had left her.

My muse; my energy; my partner in crime; my love in physical and metaphysical form; my energetic living canvas on which I expressed my physical attraction and love. Her wrists and arms stretched above her flowing waves of brown hair that twisted and curled as she tilted her head slowly to face the direction of the noise of me opening the door. The metal portion of her leather and fur wrist cuffs clinked and shuffled as she moved her hands and extended her fingers towards the ceiling as if to try and reach out and touch the energy that had just returned to this glowing yellow room. Her body twisted and extended lightly as she realigned her back to re-centre her body directly down the middle of my king sized bed. The sheets began to twist and move as she lifted her pelvis up, causing the muscles of her legs and stomach to contract and tighten; all the more illuminated by the 40 candles placed all over the room. The waves of candlelight danced across her skin as she twisted and pulled against her restraints in a playful manner; silently and subconsciously begging for me to make a noise to let her know of my location in the room. My eyes gazed over her and took in every inch of her exposed, beautiful body; I felt her as much as she felt me in the silence that we found ourselves existing in. A blindfold shielded her eyes from seeing me, but I would do the looking for the both of us as I visually traced her body from her head down to her toes that begin to wiggle slowly as she started to tremble from the building anticipation. I lifted my glass up to my chest and shook it to allow the ice cubes to bounce off the inner walls of the glass; letting her know I have returned with ammunition.

She let out the softest moan that, if left to its own devices, could crumble mountains and bring the strongest of men to their knees. I countered by taking one slow step forward which caused the thick, old wooden floors to creak and pop again. She shifted her head suddenly towards the noise of the floor as I took another long, enunciated step. This creek sent a shiver down her beautiful spine; she lifted her back and tilted her feet upward which exposed the soles of her feet in my direction. I took one more step and stopped at the foot of my bed; again existing in nothing but soft candlelight flickers and silence. She stopped twisting and moving entirely, and we both were enveloped by the deafening silence of anticipation and want. The only sound is the soft flicker of the candles as they painted the walls, and our bodies, in the silent glow of centuries of light. I lifted the glass to my lips and took another sip of the now completely chilled whisky. Before pulling the glass away, I held one of the ice cubes in my teeth and brought the glass back down to my waist.

I knelt down slowly and began to take position at the soles of her feet that hung encouragingly through the thick wooden posts of my bed frame. As she shuffled her legs once more, the fur and leather cuffs around her ankles began to clink, and her toes bent and pointed towards the ceiling. I leaned in closely and tightened the clasp of the large ice cube (still locked between my upper and lower teeth.) I placed the glass on the floor with a light click, and brought my hands up towards the thick wooden bed frame. I placed one hand on her heel, the other over her toes, and pushed back to fully expose her tiny, soft soles. She let out the beginning of a soft moan just as I plunged the ice cube that was in my mouth right in the middle of her foot. The soft moan erupted into a lightly rasped yell as I slowly traced upwards through her arch and up to the base of her toes. She wriggled her ankles, but my firm grip offered no room to budge, and the ankle cuffs kept her legs from going anywhere. I did the same to her other foot, in identical fashion. She let out a few more raspy squeaks and moans, and she finished with a soft giggle that was slightly muffled through the black bandana that was cinched over her mouth. I let go of her foot, picked up my glass of whisky that I placed on the floor next to me and spit the ice cube back into the glass.

Now standing, I placed my index finger on the top of her exposed ankle and started to walk slowly around the right side of the bed; all the while tracing an invisible line up her calf, then onto her thigh, over her hip (where I draw a few figure-8’s because I know it is one of her top 3 most sensitive spots) and finally landed on the soft middle of her belly. I lifted my glass to my lips and took another long sip, all the while tracing an expanding circle on her belly that started out small and grew with each completed rotation. She murmured something through the bandana that was inaudible, so I lifted my index finger to the bandana and slowly pried it from her mouth, like flipping the page in a magazine, so that it now dangled around her neck. This exposed her soft red lips and she began to lick them with her tongue.

“You have something to say my love?” I asked in my low, inquisitive tone.

“I want it” she said softly with a light rasp that only exists really late at night, or really early in the morning.

“Tell me what you want my love” I asked.

“I want you to put on my song, and make me dirty. I want you.”

“Okay my love.”

I leaned down and kissed her with everything that I had in this world. All of my passion, every imaginable physical expression of love that I could translate through the act of a kiss; a passion and desire that seemed to grow with time. When I pulled away, she bit the side of her lower lip and flashed a wry grin that slowly turned into the smile that is the foundation for everything I am in this world now. I existed simply in the candlelit contours of her lips, and would rather be nowhere else in the world.

I pulled the bandana up from around her neck, and cinched it back into her open, smiling mouth. I stood up and walked around the bed, tracing my fingers from her belly all the way down to her left pinkie toe which I give a light squeeze, and twist, as I walked away from the bed towards the corner of my room where the record player sat in waiting. I thumbed through my purple record crate, scanning through various covers and finally landing on the one. “Prince – Parade” I pulled out the black and white album and stared at the front a moment, as if to almost get a posthumous nod of approval from the man himself. I opened up the top of the record player, and pulled out the black vinyl from inside the square album case. Holding the ammunition in my hands, I placed it in the record player and turned on the amps and stereo system. I placed the needle a few millimetres before the title track (as it would give me time to walk back to the bed before the first track began to play) and turned to walk back to the bed on which my love waited patiently in a heightened state of anticipation. The sounds of crackling and light fuzz filled the air and sent shivers down the spine of my love, who knew exactly what happened every time this song came on at this time of night.

I stood at the foot of the bed and started to unbuckle her ankle restraints. Once her ankles and legs were free, she slowly pulled her legs back and spread her knees to either side; exposing everything which made my heart beat wildly and my blood flow rapidly. Just as she does this, as if on cue, the song kicked into full blast. The sound filled my entire apartment, sounding almost like Prince was playing in my living room. I crawled slowly onto the foot of the mattress where her legs once rested, and knelt down comfortably to assume my attack position. She extended her fingers and clasped the red rope that attached her wrists to the thick wooden bed frame. Her pelvis rose again, as if to call out to me; begging me to come closer; guiding me in like airport runway landing lights on a dark, foggy night. I took her right leg into my hands and started biting around her ankle and sole of her foot; slipping in intermittent kisses and tongue lashings. I traced my tongue down her calf and thigh, finishing at her right pelvic bone that subtly rose above her thigh like a rolling hill. As I started to bite and kiss the area where her thigh met her pelvis, she let out a pleasure-filled cry that was barely heard over the funky guitar and bass line of the song. I slowly kissed my way down to the top of her flower as smells of vanilla, lavender, amber, and sweat filled my nose and ignited fireworks in my brain. I laid my full tongue on top of her clit, as if to ask permission to continue using no words, only actions. Her pelvis and stomach began to move in a motion that could only be compared to waves lightly breaking and rolling; waving me forward to safe shores. I clasped my fingers around the back of each thigh and slid my back backwards into the vacant space at the end of my bed, realigning my shoulders and legs. She lifted her legs upwards and rested her heels on my shoulders, submitting herself to me entirely.

Prince's’ first verse kicks in, and my tongue began to slowly rotate from its dormant position; slowly circling, and causing her to press her feet down into my shoulders and neck. After a few moments of slow, concentric circles, I placed her whole clit into my mouth with a slight wave-like sucking motion; still circling at the same time with my tongue. I felt her thrust her pelvis towards me as she grabbed, and pulled, the rope above her head as if to hang on for her life. I released her from my mouth, now fully wet and warm from pleasure, and I run my tongue down both lips slowly and pulsating firmly like an electric current. I could sense her body tense up from receiving an overwhelming rush of sensations that are being sent from all areas of her body.

As the song entered the final chorus riff, the true cosmic/sexual crescendo of man and instrument, I felt her body began to tremble slightly. It started off slow, like a soft idle, and began to grow with each passing second. First her legs started to shake, and then her pelvis, matching the intensity of the final build-up of the crescendo-ing song. I heard the wrist cuffs tighten and clink as she pulled on the rope once more, which in turn made the headboard of the bed twist and pop from the pressure. I opened my eyes and glanced up at her glowing body, which from that perspective seemed miles long, much like a Salvador Dali painting. Her breaths became quicker and more intense; her chest rose and fell like an oil derrick that is working at 200% its limit. Her head tilted back as if to completely submit to the cosmos that allowed our bodies to experience sensations and feelings everlasting. In those moments, our bodies were the religious temples people wrote about in ancient scriptures; simultaneously creating and expelling magic and wonder through the physical act of love. Her legs, now trembling intensely, tried to pull away, but my hands tensed and pulled her towards me closer than previously before. She let out a roaring moan that could only be created by a goddess, and induced by a god.

The song then hit its final strums, and in that moment she reached the final stages of trembling and moaning. She pulled once more on the ropes extending from the headboard, which again caused the bed to creak and twist; all the more amplified by the music and candlelight that illuminated everything in a subtly beautiful glow. All at once, she let out her loudest raspy scream that matched the final intense guitar strums and bass line plucks. She received an orgasm that melted the constructs of human understanding; breaking the barrier between the physical and metaphysical worlds. She continued to tremor and moan furiously as I continued my orchestrated dance of tongue and teeth upon her energetic centre, and the source of my internal pleasure. She thrashed about and tried to pull her pelvis away from my tongue, but I maintained my firm grip on her thighs, and delivered the final blow which transcended her mind through time, space and galaxies everlasting; echoing out into the eternities that had been there lying in wait forever, and would be there forever after ever. I began to slow down; guiding her back to our galaxy, and back to earth; the realities of our minds and bodies. She still moaned and twisted, now with increasingly less intensity as each breath rose and fell like the seconds passing on the unseen clock of time.

I began to lessen the intensity of my grasp upon the underside of her thighs. Her feet still dug into my shoulders as her breaths still rose and fell at slower and slower rates. Her moans and screams turned to heavy breaths, body movement and light giggles that seemed to evaporate in the dim lit room that was our shared space. I slowly began to kiss the area around her pelvis, and then the exposed hip bones just below her belly. Her breaths now returned to a slow pace, and I rested my tongue back across her with no movement whatsoever, just to physically signal the end and bring both parties back to the reality of the existing, and fleeting, moments. She began to let out little pleasure filled giggles, and she shuffled her body to a new position. I arched my back up straight and let her legs fall directly into my hands; guiding them both slowly back to the soft surface of my mattress. I leaned back down and started to kiss slowly from her bellybutton up her stomach to the base of both her breasts; spending ample time around each one, softly kissing and gliding my tongue around her nipples. I extended my arms to either side of her body, putting me in a push-up position, and kissed up to the base of her neck and collarbone. After spending a few moments going back and forth, I worked my way up her neck to her chin and placed my lips upon it for one long moment. I let out a wry grin that I knew she couldn’t see, but I felt like she could feel it.

Her moans now shifted to rasped breaths that somehow echoed through this candlelit chamber of pleasure, and out into the world forever. I placed my lips and teeth over the bandana that still cinched her mouth, and I pulled it away from her and exposed her beautiful lips again. She flashed the only smile I ever wanted to see, and licked her lips once more. I leaned down and pressed my lips against her with everything I had left, and softly bit the upper right corner of her top lip and let out a raspy growl of my own. I finished the kiss and slowly pulled my head back as her head lifted up as if to call out for a longer kiss, which I playfully denied.

“Why are you so good to me?” She asks softly into the darkness.

“You are everything I’m not.” I replied.

I leaned on one arm, and used my free hand to pull the bandana away from her eyes. In that moment, her eyes burnt right through mine, out the back of my head, through the ceiling in my bedroom, out of the roof of my apartment, through the atmosphere of the earth, and forever into the cosmos. She blinked once, then twice, and then once more. We weren’t two people looking into each other’s eyes, but rather two physical instances that happened to be existing amongst each other. I would never have the words to explain the way she made me feel. The irony of my dictionary, which was tucked away in my bookshelf not 5 feet away, is that it contained every perfect word that I could put together to explain the way she made my brain and body feel, but none could be strung together in a sentence that truly deserved her description. She was, and in being so, so was I. I kissed her forehead as I closed my eyes and existed in nothing but the moment we created in being molecular beings that continued to be solid as the seconds pass.

I leaned just beyond her head and unbuckled the wrist cuffs that held her arms above her head, and tossed them aside. She put her hands on my shoulders and ran her fingers slowly across my collarbone and down my arms, which in turn sent shivers down my arms and caused the hairs to rise ever so slowly. She traced her fingertips from the base of my neck, down my chest and toward my stomach and pelvis. I kept my eyes firmly focused on her the entire time, not even blinking once (who would do such a horrible thing as to waste a millisecond staring at something as metaphysically beautiful as this?) I felt I would be doing a disservice to the universe by creating a temporary blinder between her eyes and mine; like throwing a wrench into a conveyor belts gears.

“I’m thirsty” she said; she didn’t say the words so much as she happened to open her mouth and the universe happened to create the perfect vibrations that vibrated her intentions towards my sound receptors in that moment in time.

“Yes my love” I replied.

I slowly arched my back upwards in order to shift and stand up to manoeuvre myself towards my whisky, which had lied dormant for the last 7 minutes at the table on which my record player sat. As I moved up and away from my love, she applied a little force into her fingers which then dug her fingernails lightly into my skin as I pulled away. I slung my leg over her, and slid off the bed onto the floor and walked towards the far corner of the room once more. The record was now just emitting soft fuzz and crackles; I lifted the needle off the rotating vinyl record and placed it in its holder. I picked up my still moderately cool glass of whisky and brought it back to my love, who was now sitting up and leaning her back against the wooden headboard. I knelt back onto the bed and shuffled over her outstretched legs and positioned myself just in front of her face. I took a slow and long sip of the whisky, and again let it roll over my tongue and burn just a little. After I swallowed, I let out a wry grin and extended my hand to offer her my glass. She slowly clasped each beautiful finger around the glass, took it from my grip and drank the remainder of the good amount of whisky. I watched her swish the contents of the glass around in her mouth, all the while staring directly into my eyes, and then slowly swallow the whisky down like the real woman she was. I leaned in to kiss her and share the burn that we both were experiencing from the whisky; our tongues lightly tracing the other and numbing the burning sensation.

I stood back up and started to walk around the room blowing out each individual candle. When I got to the last group of three candles, I stared back at my love, flashed a quick smile, and blew all three out at once which turned the once dim lit room into complete darkness. We both became still, and enveloped ourselves in the silence once more. I began to adjust to the darkness and moved slowly back towards my bed. I heard the shuffling of sheets, and she let out another soft giggle to give me an audible layout of where she was on the bed. I crawled into my bed and lay next to her, softly kissing her shoulder as we both lie naked and silent in each other’s existence.

I don’t know everything, but I do know that there was once a time when neither of us were here in these moments. I pondered the astronomical odds that had to line up in order for both of us to be where we were, and engage in what we just engaged in. The numbers truly couldn’t be added up or even conceivably analyzed. She shifted to her side and faced me in the darkness as both of our eyes began to fully adjust to the new darkness that washed over us, and everything around us. I swore I could hear her close her eyes, and she began to shuffle to her other side which allowed me to snuggle in close behind her and become the big spoon. I started softly kissing the back of her neck and head, and could feel the smile form on her face. In that moment, like many before, we became one. My arm extended over her side and allowed my fingers to rest softly over her belly; I started to draw soft circles around her belly button in our darkness.

Silence. Darkness. Still.

fetishes

About the author

Nick Solid

Writer - Wildland Firefighter - Bartender - Former child.

I love Horror.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2022 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.