The five senses

The warmth of the apartment surprised him as he entered. Lit candles where there had never been any, the scent of chocolate and spices, an atmosphere of intriguing mystery. When he perceived that things were not in their normal order, he suspected it was part of one of the erotic games with which she loved to surprise him. Any idea to astonish him, test him, provoke him.

On the kitchen table, Natalia lay naked, with small pieces of fruit scattered across her body. A thousand colors of pineapple, watermelon, grape, and peach adorned her skin as she laughed, watching him stand astounded, contemplating this spectacle of color and sensuality. She loved feeling his lips caressing her belly as he sipped the green pieces of kiwi, getting excited by the contact of his tongue licking the juice from the triangles of tangerine. She reveled in the experience of his mouth exploring every corner, shuddering as she perceived his breath burning her while he explored her meticulously.

He was fascinated by experiencing the mix of fruit flavors with every part of Natalia’s body. The acidity of the strawberries with the scent of her belly, the softness of the avocado around her nipples, the texture of the apple with the warmth of her thighs, the sweetness of the orange with the heat of her sex. He delighted in appreciating each unique, improvised mixture. Those fruits tasted like her; the sweet aftertaste resembled the flavor of her orgasms, the freshness of the cherries was almost like the scent of her skin. As he savored her, he heard sighs of pleasure, her moans as he eagerly licked the grape juice from between her legs.

In their erotic games, they usually focused on just one sense, believing that using all of them at once diluted the true and profound experience of each. Thus, she devised sessions like this one, or others dedicated to smell or hearing. Sometimes she liked to tie him to a chair and, blindfolding him, excite him with sounds. She would walk around him, caressing herself, sighing in his ear, awakening an uncontrollable imagination in him, immobilized and in darkness. He would listen expectantly to the sound of her hands sliding over her skin, the click of her mouth as she licked her fingers, the moans she made when aroused seeing him gagged, drowning in his own desire, the sound of her caresses as she masturbated within reach of his mouth. Without touching him, without speaking to him. He appreciated in detail every sound, which was more than enough to drag him into a delirium of pleasure, to maximum excitation without needing to resort to any of the other senses.

Her moans enthralled him; the soft sound of her hands moving over her skin impassioned him. But on other occasions, they focused on enjoying smell. The tender and irresistible odor impregnated her clothes, the room, and the entire house in her wake, leaving a trail of an unmistakable perfume. Sometimes she would blindfold him to bring him, one by one, her lingerie, which made him shudder with desire. She liked to watch him, ecstatic, appreciating the scent of that captivating woman on any of the garments she put within his reach. She was certain that when she wasn’t there, he sometimes visited that drawer where she kept them. Silk and cotton with red, white, and all-colored lace that treasured the essence of her skin. It was another way to admire the attractiveness of that woman who drove him to the brink of delirium with unusual ease.

Touch took the lead when she deprived him of the other senses, leaving him in darkness and using only his hands to explore her, stopping at every detail. His fingers would study her meticulously, trying to memorize each of her curves and surfaces, the smoothness of her back, the tenderness of her sex, the contour of her lips. In the dark, they enjoyed each other with their hands, perceiving more clearly the differences between the texture of her breasts, her thighs, her waist, as if the skin were different, unique, boundless.

Sometimes she liked to surprise him while he was concentrated on any activity, to blindfold him and bring his hands close so he could feel her body, so she could feel his naked fingers eagerly studying her in detail. Her breath would crystallize in her throat, escaping in gasps, burning between her legs as he caressed her slowly and sweetly. The warm texture drove him insane, and in the darkness, he perceived details that escaped him in moments of passion. The softness of the hair between her legs was different; the rigidity of her nipples presented itself differently, irresistibly.

Reveling in sight was his favorite game. To enjoy the beauty of her body, to delight in watching the shadows caressing her skin, chasing her in every movement. Natalia would undress for him, shedding her clothes leisurely, knowing that in that game, he was not allowed to touch. Gripping the arms of the chair, he contained himself as best he could while she improvised lingerie parades, tried on garments, or simply danced in front of his tormented victim. Each performance was different; she played with the lights and the music, creating atmospheres to her liking. She felt desired by him, and at the same time, safe and powerful. Seeing him on the verge of explosion excited and amused her. After all, she liked to dominate him, drag him to the edge of ecstasy only to then snatch it from his lips, watching him writhe with desire while she teased him with one of her mischievous acts.

Undressing was an art form for Natalia and a delirium for him. Each garment was removed with slow deliberation, as if it were a second skin. She would slide her trousers over her bottom, play with her thong to the rhythm of the music before taking it off. Sometimes she would undress with her back to him, indifferent to her prisoner consuming himself in the corner. She used props to dance, which she slid over her curves. She would caress herself between the legs with a scarf before throwing it onto his enraptured lap, wrap herself in semi-transparent silk shawls, or keep on her high boots, with which she felt even more dominant. One of Natalia’s passions was lingerie, which she displayed on those sensual curves. He knew all her intimate garments, but she always managed to surprise him with something new. Although her weakness was black, the parades with white corsets and stockings drove him wild. The red lingerie gave her a unique touch of eroticism, the pink enhanced her beauty and the luminosity of her skin.

She fascinated him, exciting him with any of her games, pushing him to the limit, surprising him. On this occasion, she let herself be devoured by him, as he traversed her with his lips by candlelight. Lying on the table, she enjoyed her orgasms with an aftertaste of fruit and cinnamon, drank his sweat like cherry-scented liquor, licked all his skin, and savored every corner with a flavor of apple and pleasure.