I had watched her for over 30 minutes, sitting by herself at one of the outdoor tables of the restaurant. The town was on the outskirts of Como, one of Italy’s fashion producing cities. Her wide-brimmed straw hat covered much of the small table. She seemed to be passing the time playing with her hair. Initially she combed her long black hair and then braided it into a few long loose braids. She secured the end of the braid with a rubber band. Reaching down into her large handbag, she drew out a colorful red and black square scarf and held it out at arm’s length and studied its pattern and color.
After dragging it lightly and slowly across her forearm, the scarf was folded it a narrow band. One end was threaded through the braid and then she wrapped it around the braid and tied a firm knot. She seemed delighted when she swung her head from side to side and the scarf and hair moved gently like a mare’s tail. After retightening the scarf’s knot, she spread the panels of the dangling scarf and fluffed them gently. Seemingly satisfied with her handiwork, she resumed sipping on her wine and enjoying the late afternoon sun.
“What good fortune” I thought when I eventually saw that she wore no wedding ring. If she was waiting for someone, they either weren’t coming or were very late. This beauty should be ignored.
“Scusarlo. Parlato inglese?” I babbled in my best “guy from the states” accent.
“Since I’m visiting from Pennsylvania, I’d be more than happy to.” she replied with a smile.
With a sigh of relief of having overcome the language barrier, I was free to go on with my questions.
“I’m just over doing some wandering around and was wondering if you knew of a small good hotel?”
“Sure. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll give you the names of a few.”
As she jotted some names and directions down, I asked how an American like her knew so much about the countryside.
It turns out that she was doing some work for her graduate studies from Philadelphia University. Her master’s degree work was in textile design and she had been invited over by several of the local manufacturers to see firsthand the Italian methods.
A couple more glasses of wine helped to prolong our conversation and it was evident that soon the day would come to an end. Not before, however, I found out that her name was Samantha and she was also house-sitting one of the villas that belonged to one of the managers of the nearest plant while he was on holiday.
With no particular goal in mind other than to spend a little more time with her I asked, “Do they give any tours of the mills.”
“Not for the public,” Sam replied, “But if you’d like to come along tomorrow I can give you a behind the scenes look.”
“Sounds great!” and we made plans for her to pick me up the next morning at the closest of the hotels that she had recommended.
The next morning, I got,downstairs to the entrance to the hotel ten minutes before our appointment not wanting to be late and miss this opportunity. Just like a vision of a starlet, she drove up in a small convertible with her hair enclosed like Grace Kelly in a white silk scarf with a red border. I felt stirrings while I greeted her with a peck on her cheek (when in Italy, do as the Italians do I thought).
Most of the day was a blur of one room after another. She showed me the different textures of polyesters, rayons, and silks. It was a personal course in how the different material and weights felt and looked. The variety of colors that fabric could be dyed was virtually endless. I noticed how she must have been well liked and respected, for when she entered a different room many of the workers smiled and called her by her name. Eventually we got to the room for this particular company that was label “Inspectors Only.” The door closed behind us and Sam turned back and turned the key in the ancient lock.
She said, “Enough of touring. It’s time to see what you’ve learned.”
She motioned for me to move, “Sit here.” pointing at a single bed in the middle of the room. Without a word, she deftly moved a scarf over my eyes to blindfold me.
I started to utter a “What’s going to happen now?” when I received a reward that was a sharp twisting of my nipple through my shirt. I could feel my cock becoming much more evident.
As I recovered my breath, she pushed me over onto the middle of the bed and swung a leg over me and straddled my belly and facing my feet. Soon I felt another scarf being slowly and gently wrapped around my manhood.
“Silk or polyester?”
“Silk”
“Very good.” she said and her hand slowly moved the scarf up and down on me.
“Hermes or Ferregamo?” she asked as I felt my hips starting to move.
“Hermes” I said with my fingers crossed.
“Right again.” and she picked up the pace of her manipulation briefly. Then she added, “I’ll be back.”
I felt her get up off of the bed for a minute and heard very little. Soon the bed was moving and Samantha was lying next to me.
“I am just as bound as you now. I have a Hermes blindfold, my legs are tied together with Nicole Millers and I’ve gotten my hands tied together behind me with a Ferragamo. Your last part of the examination is to see how you can pleasure the instructor.”
My head was racing as I maneuvered around. Once I got to my knees I could kiss her face and her neck. The nipple delight that she had given me with the scarf, I gave her gently, then firmly with my lips and teeth. The long ends from my blindfold draped past me so I dragged them across her breasts. I enjoyed listening to her quiet moans of delight. My kisses kept moving down and lightly teased and tempted her pubic region. She rolled back and forth and kept arching herself towards my darting tongue and I could tell that deeper penetration was to give us both great delights. It was my turn to take charge. I moved farther down and soon used my teethand lips to untie the scarves that kept her legs together.
“Please fuck me now, please fuck me.” she pleaded.
I already had that planned but we need to do it my way. I kept contact with her and slowly lay myself down next to her.
“Sit on my cock now” I said.
Panting and moaning I could feel her rolling herself up to her knees and then getting astride me. We wiggled and twisted until my engorged cock found its target and she squealed with joy. Our rhythm and pace quickened and intensified and I could feel her cunt tighten down on me as she climaxed again and again. Soon I felt the wave building in me and my thrusts became deep deliberate and hard into her willing flesh.
Gradually the lust subsided and we began to catch our breath. Still blindfolded and tied, she swung herself off and nestled next to me and whispered, “You did so well today, you’ve paid the tuition for tomorrow’s lesson.”
I hope to have my PhD in scarf bondage within the next couple of weeks.
You can also leave feedback & comments for this story on the Plaza Forum
08.04.13