I can’t see you because of the blindfold over my eyes, but I know you’re there. I heard the creak of the chair as you got up, and I can hear the faint sound of your bare feet on the floor as you pace in a circle around me. Occasionally, you surprise me with a touch, so quick and feather light that it took a few times before I realized it wasn’t just my imagination. 

I feel more than hear you stop right in front of me. The space between us seems to grow, with only the sound of our breathing to fill it. As the relative silence stretches out, my body stills from the mild occasional fidgeting it has been doing. I stand stock still, hands calmly hanging at my sides. Suddenly, I feel your hand cup my chin, angling my head up. If I weren’t blindfolded, I’d be looking right into your eyes. Just the knowledge of that fact and the version of your eyes in my imagination is enough to make my breath catch. 

“That’s right…”

Both of your hands then slide to either side of my head, fingers snaking into my hair. You don’t pull my hair, exactly, but rather guide my head into a gentle sway back and forth. You can feel the tension of my hair increase on your fingers as I start to sink, and you gently guide me down into your chest, murmuring encouragement in my ear. By the time I feel myself surrender to the space between your chest and the thick fog of trance, I am ready for whatever you have planned for me.