In the dark, pleasure is pleasure. Isn’t it?
The Dark Room. No, not the place where you watch celluloid transmuted into photograph. No, the dark room I refer to is a place of the flesh. An intriguing concept. To enter a small room engulfed in complete darkness, in a state of near or total nakedness. A world where you can only feel your lust, express and experience it through the medium of touch.
Dark rooms exist in some of the swingers clubs I’ve read about. Enter at your own peril. If they don’t have them already, they should think about installing a sign outside the entrances, a friendly safeguard like those sited next to rollercoaster turnstiles. It could read: “To enter this ride, you must be this daring”. Though quite how you’d measure ‘this’ is another matter. It’s not quite the same as keeping the ’smaller than four feet tall’ brigade from riding on the Millennium Force.
But some form of warning ought to exist, for the ignorant and the over-confident amongst us. For once inside, there’s no way of telling who is touching you, caressing you, sucking or licking or fucking you.
Until it’s too late, of course.
There are other potential pitfalls in Paradise. What if you’re happy to touch and be touched, lick and be licked, but want to leave fucking off the menu? What does a woman do if a swollen cockhead starts nudging its way between her soaking labia? Does she go with the flow if it feels good, let the sensations sweep away her resolutions? Or does she block the cock (assuming that she’s speed-of-light quick), back up, twist away? What if it’s already inside her? Should she ease it back, yank it out, snap it off? What if penetration’s ok, but going in bareback is not? How do you ensure that that stranger’s cock only comes in ‘rubber clad’?
Like most things sexual, when it stops being purely imaginary, it brings with it a degree of risk. Users beware.
That’s not to say there isn’t at least as much potential for pleasure. Such places must be great levellers, reducing everyone to the level of the newly blind, all groping and fondling their way through the dark towards trembling, sticky satisfaction.
What would it be like to surrender yourself to such a place? For me, the thrill would be countered by the fear that it might be another man’s hands or mouth that found my flesh. Accidental contact, two men brushing by each other as they pursue their own lust and that of their partner(s), that sort of thing holds no fear. But the possibility of being deliberately targeted for pleasure by a man… I’m wincing even as I type.
Yet the dark is the place where we most readily seek our fantasies: a bedroom cloaked in night, or a barely lit alleyway or car park, the dark room of a swingers’ club, or simply behind the shutters of closed eyelids. In the dark, we can picture whatever the hell we want, unencumbered by the mundanity of our surroundings. The combination of imagination and physical sensation is a most potent one. And in the dark room, those elements are combined with the taboo of not knowing whose hands are caressing you, whose bodies your own hands flow over in response. It must be a deliciously heady mixture of emotions for those equipped to fully embrace them.
As I’ve said, for me the experience would be one of naked lust tempered by caution. But what of my wife? How would MW respond to the darkness, to the myriad of eager fingers and tongues and lips and breasts and cocks and cunts? She lacks my same-sex disinterest; she’s already sampled and enjoyed the touch and taste of another woman’s pleasure (First Meeting / Second Meeting). Could she be better suited than I to surrendering to the dark room experience as it was intended?
Could she?
I know that she enjoys the darkness. I’ve blindfolded her before, gently covered her eyes with a black silk scarf, watched her writhe and twist with passion as my fingers and lips and tongue flowed over her creamy skin, propelling her upwards. Watching her, seeing everything – the fall and rise of her breasts, the way her teeth nip at her lower lip when the waves of pleasure are highest, the sheen of perspiration that draws the light to her skin – I’ve sometimes questioned myself if she’s absorbed with the sensations I’m giving her … or if she’s enhancing them, conjuring delicious fantasies in her secret dark. I’ve knelt over her naked form, drawn circles with my cockhead around her taut nipples, smeared dewdrops of pre-cum around her mouth, and wondered if she’s accepting that it’s her husband’s cock … or if she’s imagining that it’s a salesman’s, or a doctor’s, or a garage mechanic’s or an expensive escort’s. Why shouldn’t she? Fantasies are spice; they add piquancy to the main course of our lives as sexual beings. Shouldn’t we milk them for their full potential?
Still, there’s quite a difference between fantasy musings that occur behind the relative safety of a blindfold, and taking a leap of faith into a dark room filled with naked lust.
In any event, I find it hard to imagine either of us undertaking such an encounter here, in this country. Perhaps if we were to visit Europe, a discreet, upmarket club in Paris or Brussels or Amsterdam. A place where our countenances were unlikely to be recognised. Would my wife be more willing to embrace the prospect then, to grasp the chance to give and take pleasure at the hands of a dozen strangers she would never have to face?
Should I ask her? Or ought I just present her with the opening, and let her decide for herself?
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The dark is indeed, a sensuous space…
The most sensuous, n’est-ce pas?
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very different to a blindfold and a trusted partner(s) …
But still exciting, surely? The thrill of entering into the unknown? Of undertaking something so wanton and decadent? Very different, yes. But even more tantalising, I’d have thought…
~EA
i agree…extremely exciting yes…but it comes with a danger too xx
And the danger is what kicks in that delicious adrenal rush…
~EA