Secrets of Her Hat Box

Yearning burned inside her, but such intense desire was not easily extinguished. She wasn't even sure what she wanted. She only knew that no man had yet learned to master the complex puzzle that pieced together the whole of her. Few had the intellect, creativity, craftsmanship or insight – even more rare, the required attribute of great patience.

She had faceless social contact every night, but these affairs were distant, limited to mute conversations via computer, linking interchanges that enticed, but did not satisfy. At least, not for her. However, her cyber-companions seemed to enjoy their own experience and appreciate her entertainment.

She remained anonymous, seducing imaginations vividly, delivering melting descriptions of her various talents and tempting sexual delights. She changed her role with each encounter, depending on the audience – always portraying the woman in her own "silent" fantasy – sometimes virginal, barely a woman, and other times, an aggressive wench, taking control immediately.

She dressed at great length and ceremony. Aspiring to be totally immersed in fantasy, choosing seductive, revealing lingerie. From under her dressing table, she retrieved and held a unique wooden hatbox, an ornate octagon depicting lovers painted in rich hues on each panel. The top portrayed a single woman sitting in front of a mirror, staring at her image. Kept safely locked, inside were specially selected treasures used to achieve orgasm by masturbation… alone, and safe, in her own bedroom.

She used a small gold key from her silver jewel case to unlock the box, revealing its deep purple velvet lining. Carefully lifting the lid, she began to caress each item with manicured fingertips. Soft, and firm, flexible and realistic, fleshy dildos in varied lengths and designs, each carefully washed, dried and wrapped individually in custom-made black satin pockets.

She picked up a black leather collar, adorned with silver zodiac signs. Admiring Taurus, in his confidant stance – Pisces, two fish swimming in opposite directions – Cancer, the king crab. As she snapped the choker around her slender throat, chills raced down her spine. She reached for the long, black whip – properly used, its silky leather strands stung without breaking the skin – she ran the lengths of leather through closed palms, savoring the feeling. Her eyes fell on the cuffs, black leather bands with small steel rings and three snaps around the wrist. A glistening silver letter opener completed the illusion, fed the fantasy. All there, part of her imaginative lover, an invisible man who set her loins afire… yet she feared the intimacy he represented – so she kept him captive in her mind.

She logged onto the computer, black lace lingerie contrasting against her fair skin. She stared at the blue screen impatiently, staring at her hypnotic expression reflecting back, falling into her own eyes as if drowning and unable to save herself. Suddenly, she was in a chat forum and began her flirtatious cyber dance. She began to type, exchanging casual thoughts until she selected her virtual companion for tonight. Finally, she chose, inviting him into a private chat room for more personalized entertainment.

She was completely involved in the impromptu fantasy unfolding, fingers wildly typing, as if she was stranded in a hot desert and had come thirstily upon a lake. Hence, she didn't hear the door open, didn't know he had watched her every day, and certainly couldn't have dreamed what he had been fantasizing about. But she was about to be enlightened.

Boldly, he had watched from the porch across the street. She waved in the evening, arriving home after work, disappearing into the house. On weekends, she worked in the front flower garden, tending roses in a long, feminine skirt - her hair pulled back in a ribbon.

Yes, he had studied her long and well, and was fully aware of her quiet sexuality, exquisite sensuality. In the loneliness of night, she became a vixen, drawn to the mysterious, seeking pleasures promised in darkness. He had the wisdom, imagination and ability to lure her – that little hatbox contained a nice array of extras for exploring those inner depths where undiscovered bliss awaited.

He guessed she would be too intensely involved in her little "screen show" to hear the door. Besides, her ritual included playing carefully chosen music, depending on her mood. This eve was no different, and she had her eyes closed in concentration, petite fingers with long red nails caressing ample breasts before trailing down the front of her gown.

From the shadows of the doorway, he watched the gentle, changing expressions on her face. Innocent, fresh, in harmony with the dance of touch on her flesh – completely oblivious that he had entered, and was only an arm's length from her now.

He reached into the open hatbox silently, and then moved swiftly to cover her eyes with a silk scarf, his voice a commanding whisper.

"I am your wildest fantasy."

She recognized the masculine voice, not placing where, listening, her blood racing – confused, but not terrified. Momentarily, she thought, it's not real. This is just my imagination, finally out of control.

She suddenly realized who was in control, and it wasn't a fantasy at all. He snapped the wide leather cuffs around her wrists, holding the rings in one hand, pulling her close to his face. He was deliberate, solid, and in complete command.

She breathed heavily, inhaling him, recognizing his expensive cologne. She felt his eyes touch her skin before his fingers. His wet, hungry lips bit quickly, leaving a sharp indention on her right breast, before suckling at an erect, anxious nipple.

She moaned, unable to refrain. Her body arched upward instinctively, aching pulses deep inside screaming for release – responding to the controlled, purposeful touch of this strong specimen of man.

He put his palm between her open thighs, feeling the moist heat. Slipping in one finger… she was tight, and very wet… he stroked the silky folds and she opened wider in pleading reception.

It had been so long since she had been with any man. And, while he was familiar, in the darkness of the blindfold, she also acknowledged he was yet another anonymous acquaintance – this one from her own reality of day to day living. So, in many ways, he was also a stranger – in fact, uninvited, and possibly dangerous. Fleeting thoughts – for she was spellbound, unable, and in some inexplicable way, unwilling, to consider resistance.

He placed his hand possessively, gently, around her throat, squeezing his fingers only slightly to lead her up from the chair and to the bed. He released the rings, so her hands were free, the cuffs still attached.

"Remove the gown", he demanded, the knife-like letter opener in his hand, lightly brushing her across the throat and neck with the silver blade… a suggestion of risk, sending chills of intrigue rather than fear down her spine.

Watching his face, her eyes sparkled, dropping the material to the floor, revealing ivory breasts, swollen and heavy, with large round nipples… and finally, the smoothly shaven mound that topped flawless legs. He teased daringly, aware that the touch of cold metal on warm skin awakened her senses – suddenly covered her lips with his own demanding mouth. She was already lost in the world he was creating, craving to be satisfied.

He never doubted she would refuse him nothing – his quest was to conquer, overcome all obstacles until she surrendered completely. Let him inside her mind; release all inhibitions, until he became her sustenance, necessary even to exist.

After tonight's journey, an insatiable need would anchor her to him forever. The hatbox, camouflaged simply as erotic décor, a bedroom accessory. Inside – jewels of pleasure, each instrument inanimate alone. appropriately orchestrated, produced a symphony of paradise, and he was a master musician. She was hypnotized, imprisoned… anticipating.

Finally, she begged in a frantic whisper, "Please… I am so hot for you… put your thick, hard cock inside my pussy… Please… fuck me…"

He complied promptly, throbbing, desperate for his own release. She gasped as his magnificent shaft drove deep, all at once, over and over. He pounded relentlessly, lustfully, watching her belly rise and fall with every thrust. She moaned, quietly at first… pleading louder, inaudible… locking ankles around his hips, pressing her pelvis hard against him.

Finally, their uncontrolled screams spilled into the darkness like a bursting tidal wave, bodies crashing back and forth. Hearts beating like sails in the wind, breathing heavy and light at once... lifting them higher and higher into an orgasmic sea, riding the raging storm until exhausted and spent.

Fantasy and reality: poured together in a flood of insurmountable proportion, inspired by the contents and secrets of a little hatbox. Forever, never-ending.