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The Surprise

We had been going out for a year, and had gotten to a point in our sex lives where we were comfortable sharing fantasies and exploring new ideas. College seemed the place for new ideas and to try  new things. 

One thing she talked about was being tied up and blind folded. She loved the idea of being restrained, and she also liked the idea of being looked at but not being able to see. In a way, a surrender of control, being exposed to hungry eyes and hands, but not being able to see who was looking at her or what they would do to her. The surrender of control and being at the mercy of someone else was a turn on for her. Her heart raced as she anticipated being that exposed and vulnerable to the unexpected touch. 

She explained that it wasn't as much an exhibitionist side. She loved the idea of being looked at as something sexual and desirable. But it was more than being looked at. For her, if she was the sexual object and only being seen, she was still in control. In fact, she was more powerful. What she wanted, she told me, was something much different. She wanted to give up all control, to a point where she was helpless to control the situation, to be ignorant of who or what was touching her. To try to guess what was happening or would happen next. It was a form of mental excitement for her as much as physical. 

So I agreed to try to fulfill her fantasy. I put some blankets on her coffee table, and a pillow, then had her strip naked and lay back.  I had her wear her sleeping mask, so she couldn't see, and then bound her wrists and ankles with some nylon chord.

She seemed relaxed and ready for whatever happened next. That's when my surprise came. When explaining her fantasy, she'd hinted many times about the idea of a stranger seeing her tied up, and even touching her. She loved the idea of having her private parts seen and even touched by someone who she didn't even know, couldn't even see, and would never see again. She said it wouldn't be cheating, because cheating was based on fidelity. And fidelity was a psychological concept of commitment. She reasoned that she wouldn't be cheating if she didn't know who she was cheating with.

Perhaps I wanted to believe her, or to make her happy. Maybe I was also a little turned on by the idea of her being a total sex object to someone else. It's like you don't want to see your girlfriend sleep with your best friend and then fall for him and dump you. And even if she stayed with you after sleeping with your friend, it could be weird, but if it was with a stranger, and if she didn't even know who was touching her, and just could feel the pure physical touch, and not any of the personal connection to someone else as an individual, then it was more like watching your girlfriend as like a porn star. Sort of like it wasn't her, but the image of her in a sexual situation. In any case, she wanted to be tied up naked. And there she was, on the coffee table of her dorm room, naked and bound and blind folded.

I told her I had to go get something I forgot quickly and would be back. I knew the waiting was part of the mental game for her. The anticipation was more thrilling than anything else. So I stepped out of the dorm room.

I realized if this was going to happen, it needed to happen fast and without any thought. Thinking would only introduce hesitation, and hesitation would kill it. So I simply decided to walk down the dorm hall, out the door and approach the first male student I randomly came across. that was the only way. It had to be random. Could be a nerd, a big fat kid, a nervous freshman, a jock, an average joe. Didn't matter. 

So, trying to put as little thought into it as possible, I walked right up to the first guy I saw, and said, "My girlfriend is naked in her dorm room, tied up and blindfolded. She wants a stranger to come in. Do you want to be that guy?" 

The funny thing was, I said it so fast, that I thought the guy either hadden't heard me or thought I was messing with him. He looked at me for a second, and then shrugged. "Yeah, ok."

So it was on. We were walking the 100 yards back to her dorm. I told him some basic rules of the fantasy: 

1) this wasn't going to be long. Just come in, and stay no more than 10 minutes. He wasn't going to get a relationship, just a look and maybe a feel.

2) No talking. He couldn't reveal himself to her and had to stay as anonymous as possible.

3) No pain. We weren't into abuse or kinky degradation. No choking, no hitting. None of that shit.

We were at her door by the time I finished. He nodded to the terms. He was tall, much taller than me. Sort of an athletic type, not a jock, but maybe someone who raced bikes or a swimmer. He had that long lean figure. And had a sense of confidence about him, without arrogance. He seemed pretty relaxed, really.

When we opened the door, we slipped in quietly. She knew I'd returned because her body trembled. Her nippled were pinched with excitement. I knew she'd been thinking about my return, and knowing that she didn't know what was next. So far, my guest was a secret. He stood silently and took in the sight of her naked and tied on the coffee table. Next thing I knew, he'd slipped off his shorts and t-shirt and walked over, silently to her. He bent over her, and almost delicately, touched her stomach. His hands slid smoothly across her belly, and ran up to her breasts. I watched her shudder in response. She was smiling just slightly, but also very intense as each new touch came at an unexpected time. Perhaps she could tell just by the touch that these were hand feeling her small, pert breasts for the very first time?

The guest bent down closer, really getting a good look at her body. His hand ran down over the stubble of her shaved pussy. This caused her to squirm and bite her lip. She was clearly turned on. I knew she was wet between her legs. She was totally excited, and truth be told, I was really enjoying seeing the guest slowly touch and explore her like she was some new and precious treasure. 

I turned my camera on silent mode, and snapped a photo of him bent over her, touching her.

Then things started happening, and I wasn't sure if she or I were actually expecting it'd go like this. Stroking her had turned him on and he was hard. Suddenly he straddled the table with his long legs, over her, and presented his hard cock to her lips.

Still tied she couldn't touch him. Blindfolded, she couldn't see him. Could she tell just by her lips on his cock head that it was a different penis than mine? Could she snell him? Did he have a different musk? If she had any idea that this was a new guy and that I was merely watching from the sidelines, she made no indication. Her lips wrapped around the head of his big erection, as he slowly pumped his hips. As he stroked himself, I suddenly realized maybe he was going to cum. right into my girlfriend's mouth and over her face. I hadn't thought of that before. It was suddenly occurring to me that it wasn't just my girlfriend who was surrendering control, but also me. If I was to keep the secret guest a secret, I had to keep quiet and let him shove his cock in my girlfriend's face. She certainly wasn't complaining and was sucking and slurping as much as she could without the use of her hands. 

I snapped a second photo of her like this. Seeing it was actually pretty hot. She seemed so passive, yet enjoying the moment. 

But then he pulled back and with her legs raised, positioned his cock at her pussy. It was clearly wet and glistening with her excitement. It was what I would have done, if ready to fuck my girlfriend. But it wasn't me. It was like seeing myself with her, but knowing it was some stranger who was about to penetrate my girlfriend. It was an intense moment. Part of me wanted to stop it from happening, and part of me (maybe the more porn side) wanted to see that big cock push right into her tight, shaved snatch.

I had to take another image. It was too much. Seeing her laid back, still tied, about to get penetrated. Her jaw is tight; she's anticipating so much the sensation of being filled.

He wasn't penetrating though, just rubbing the tip in and down the length of her moist lips, coating his cock in her juices, teasing her almost. She was whimpering now, not in pain, but in anticipation. He seemed to know that she wanted it, but that she was savoring the withholding. I wondered how long he would tease her and if he'd cum outside her pussy and leave her like that, or push it in and give it to her. She was wondering the same thing, no doubt. 

But our guest had an entirely different idea. He wasn't teasing her as much as he was making his cock wet and slick with her pussy juices, because with one slight readjustment, his cock head was not pushing into her pussy, but into her ass. Before I could even notice what was happening, his cock head was already an inch up her butt. Her legs were pushed back, her knees drawn to her chest. Bound, she was helpless to resist. But she wasn't resisting. She seemed in total bliss.

I snapped a photo as if to make sure this was really happening. I thought maybe I wasn't seeing right. Maybe he was in her pussy? I stepped closer quietly to get a better view, but that just confirmed that in fact he was now several inches in her backside.

We'd never done anal because my last girlfriend had hated it. It had always hurt her and she swore it was the most painful thing she'd ever experienced. My current girlfriend had never brought it up and I guess I'd just assumed she didn't like it either and that it would be painful and that maybe it was more an invention of hard core porn than something regular couples did. But apparently my girlfriend's tight ass relaxed enough to let in the large cock of the stranger. With slow, firm stokes, he was fucking her good and steady. Such a strange sensation seeing her getting it in the ass, and yet having never given it to her, not being able to connect. It felt weird. If I had any control of the situation it was now completely gone. 

I never said the guy could have her ass, but then, I never said he couldn't. He just took. And from what I could see, she was really enjoying being taken. I was only a few feet from the coffee table and took one last photo, clearly showing his cock pushing into her asshole, her shaved pussy lips in full view. Her eyes still covered by the sleeping mask. She was moaning deeply. Could she tell it was a stranger fucking her? Probably. He was so much taller than me and his cock was both longer and thicker. And he was more confident, clearly someone who could put his cock in her ass without hesitation and apparently give it to her to where she was moaning and groaning and starting to cum in a long slow, but intense orgasm, as she repeated, "don't stop, don't stop." He kept going, slow, strong, pushing in and out of her as she continued to cum. Then his body tensed. With a few quick jerks and spasms, I could tell he'd shot his load deep up her ass. 

Then, the 10 promised minutes up and his cock spent, he pulled out and dressed as fast as he'd undressed and without a single word or even eye contact, was out the door.

My girlfriend lay there as she'd been, her arms back and bound, she knees up to her chest. Her ass rosy from the use, and leaking a little bit of cum. She was still floating on the waves of her orgasm. Not knowing what else to say, I called out, "I'mo going to go wash up." 

Surely she knew she'd just had her fantasy fulfilled of being taken by a total stranger. And he'd taken her much more than either of us had expected. But she had to have known. Yet, we were a couple and we had agreed not to cheat. And so we'd go on as if I'd been the one who took her, and our private bedroom life was still private. She knew there were about 40,000 students at our college, half of them men. That was 20,000 cocks that might have been in her ass. She loved the fact that she didn't know who's it was. It didn't matter to her, only that she'd surrendered and been taken.  

But to me, it never was anonymous. Even if I didn't know the dude's name or anything about him, it was clearly his cock, and no one else's. It wasn't an abstract fantasy, it was a specific time and place and moment when I watched another guy fuck my girlfriend. It was disturbing to me, but that power also made it really emotionally charged and even erotic. I had 5 photos on my camera. I would never show them to her, because her fantasy was in not knowing. But as I took my camera to the bathroom and looked at the images again and again, I realized my fantasy was in knowing what had happend and how and where and when. I was pretty sure we'd never do anything like it again; it was enough for both of us. But what I didn't realize is that I'd go back to the photos, and use them to get turned on and touch myself while looking at them. If I didn't have the photos, then I might have felt like the whole thing was a dream, or made up, or just a porn movie I'd seen. But having them, in all there exact detail--even the fact that the dude never took off his white socks while boning her--keeps the moment forever in the moment. 











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