My Girlfriend's Blowjobs Are Legendary! Too Bad They're Not Just For Me… Prologue

Prologue

We weren’t even supposed to have met, but fate had seemingly brought us together that night of its own accord. Call it what you will, a happy accident, a stroke of dumb luck, or more accurately a series of poor luck, but I had managed to lose myself so thoroughly that I caught myself trembling, wondering if I would ever find my hotel again in the unfamiliar city I was visiting. Having been caught outside during a sudden shower earlier that evening, I decided to take shelter under the archway of a closed storefront. At first I thought nothing of it, but as one minute turned into 10, then 20, then 30, I began to worry. It was nearly an hour by the time the sudden shower had passed, ensuring I had stayed out far later than planned.

Night was always my greatest enemy, a freak genetic anomaly the doctors back home claimed. I was one of a chosen few with night blindness, seemingly normal by day, albeit a tad clumsy, but practically useless at night. So when I noticed the last threads of daylight fading from the sky, panic set in, tight and cold around my chest. Wandered around for nearly half an hour, the sun had almost set and I was beginning to struggle seeing even a few feet past the helpful yet uncaring glow of the street lights above. So at last, when I began hearing the rhythmic beats of music and faint laughs echoing from the dark alleyway beside me I decided to try my luck and see if I could get some help.

I made sure to take my time. Arm outstretched, I crept carefully through the dark, half expecting a stray trash bin to leap into my shin. I always imagined how I must be quite the sight for those that don’t know, perhaps I just look the part of a drunken fool. But I suppose being unable to see myself, I was spared any sense of embarrassment at this point in my life. With each careful step forward, I could hear the soft coos of women’s voices and deep bellowing laughter of men getting louder.

At last, I had managed to survive my trek through the unknown only to wind up in the last place I would have expected, the pleasure district. Sprawling across several blocks, every building drowned in the lurid glow of neon. Vibrant signs pulsed in electric pinks, deep reds, and teasing blues, their reflections dancing across rain-slick pavement like liquid fire. Music thumped from open doorways — basslines that seemed to echo right through your ribs — mingling with the unruly laughter of men and women stumbling arm in arm down the crowded streets.

Perfumed air swirled with cigarette smoke and the faint, sweet bite of cheap cocktails. Everywhere, couples leaned into each other, flushed and giggling, whispering promises only the night would hear. Some disappeared behind velvet curtains or through gilded doorways, while others paused in shadowed alleys to share breathless kisses.

It was a place that thrived on desire and decadence, a place that served as an eternal beacon of light against the darkness of the night every day. While a tad awkward, I managed to heave out a deep sigh of relief knowing that I would be able to see normally again, well for the most part at least.

I was still gathering my bearings, blinking against the flood of lights, when a voice cut through the hum of the crowd.

“Hallo? Hey you… man? You look… ehm… lost, ja?”

Her accent was thick, her English clumsy, soft consonants colliding with awkward pauses. I turned toward the sound, squinting. And there she was, leaning against a doorway framed in pulsing rose-pink light, a playful smirk curling at her lips.

“Is okay. I help… maybe,” she said, words tumbling out with uncertain delight. Her bright eyes sparkled with mischief at the new prey before her.

Either way, that was the first time I saw Nora. The first time her voice, so imperfect and sweet, found me in the dark and pulled me, unwittingly, toward the brightest and most twisted part of my life.

Standing there blinking like an idiot, I tried putting her face into sharper focus. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the shadows cast on her face by the light above but at last I saw her. Her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders like liquid ink, catching hints of crimson highlights whenever she moved. A delicate septum ring glinted above her soft lips, and twin studs in her bridge piercing sparkled under every shifting beam of light. Her makeup was dark and sultry — smoky eyes that seemed too big and bright for her delicate face, lashes thick enough to fan shadows across her cheeks, lips painted a wicked, glossy plum.

Even in the uneven glow, sliced through by occasional bands of darkness, she was breathtaking. Her tight black dress clung greedily to her curves, dipping low to show off an audacious swell of cleavage that all but screamed for attention. Tall lace-up thigh high boots that made her several inches taller than me made sure she could peer down with that sly grin, her long dark hair spilling over those generous breasts that rose and fell with every teasing breath. She was a creature born for night, for the hum of music and the sinful promise of places like this. And for a fleeting, dizzy moment, I forgot entirely about finding my hotel.

“Lost man…you come?” She said tilting her head inquisitively.

Carefully making my way towards her, I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling absurdly embarrassed.

“So… you are lost, ja?” She purred out.

“Yeah, completely. I’ve been wandering around for over an hour trying to find my hotel. I didn’t plan on being out this late… I sort of can’t see well at night.” I said after having managed to finally find my voice.

At that, the corners of her mouth rose in a fiendishly charming grin. Then without an ounce of hesitation she leaned forward, bending down so our faces were mere inches apart, her long hair slipped from her shoulders to curtain around us, and lowering her voice in a mischievous tone she whispered. “Then… why not stay here tonight. Cute lost man, mm?”

Standing so close, I could feel the warmth of her breath against my lips and smell the faintly sweet yet distinct aroma of booze filling my lungs with every breath. Keeping my gaze with a wink, she made a slow, exaggerated motion with her hand — index finger curling into a tight ring made by her other hand. It was unmistakably dirty and would’ve been funny if I’d actually seen it. But I only caught the tail end of it, a vague blur of motion. So I stood there awkwardly, offering a half smile, entirely clueless.

Her playful grin faltered.

“Oh… so you not like me? I… I make joke, sexy, you ignore. Is fine.” Her voice stumbled, suddenly small.

My heart lurched.

“No! No, it’s not that. God no. It’s just, I just told you, I can’t see at night. I didn’t even catch what you did. I promise I wasn’t ignoring you. You’re… you’re gorgeous. It’s not that at all.” I blurted out. Not being new to this situation, I realized she must have been doing something when I heard the sound of her arms moving just moments before.

Her eyes widened, then her face lit up again, blooming into a relieved giggle.

“Ah, okay… you blind boy. I forgive,” she teased, reaching out to lightly brush her fingers along my forearm. “So…You see me…ja?” She said with a hint of confusion before waving her hand in front of my face.

Stifling an exasperated sigh, I kept the thought to myself wondering why everyone must do that same thing, before explaining. “Yes, I can see you…Well sort of. I just can’t see well right now.” Exhaling, I let go of my brief moment of annoyance at having to try and explain my situation to someone for the thousandth time before I spoke again. “I’m staying at the Rialto Hotel. I was just hoping to find my way back before I ran into something worse than a trash can.”

She perked up immediately. “Rialto? Is very close. I show you, ja? Come, you take Nora’s hand so you not fall on ass. Kak! Wait second. I tell boss lady I step out first. Find cute blind boy. Take back to hotel, ja? Wait second.” She shouted over her shoulder, already lost in the dim moody lighting of the building’s lobby.

True to her word, it was less than a minute before I heard the loud clunking sound of her heels rushing back. And with that she slipped her hand into mine — small, warm, impossibly soft — and tugged me gently down the neon-drenched street, her laughter ringing through the pleasure district like the sweetest promise of trouble.

Walking with Nora was like being led by the hand through some impossibly decadent dream. The neon haze blurred around us, and more than once I nearly drifted straight into something I couldn’t see. Each time, Nora would catch me, sometimes by my hand, sometimes gripping my arm with surprising strength.

“Tsk… blind boy, you try walk into everything, huh?” she teased, breath warm against my ear. Her accent made it sound almost musical.

It was less than a minute later when she yanked me so suddenly that I collided with her, sending us both stumbling as she tried to keep balance in her high-heeled boots. In an effort to keep us both upright, I felt her free hand quickly dart upwards, protectively cradling the back of my head as she drew me into her. After stabilizing our tangled mess of limbs, I realized my face had managed to find its way pressed flush against her ample cleavage, the soft heat of her body calling to me against the cold night breeze.

“Domkop! Can’t you see he blind!” Nora yelled in annoyance at a drunk who had nearly stumbled into me.

Clearing my throat, I mumbled out a “thanks” as she continued to press my face into her soft chest.

It was only after the drunk had stumbled around the corner that she finally looked back down at me and realized what she had been doing. Feeling her lean towards me, I felt the hot warmth of her breath against my neck as made a show of  hugging herself even tighter against me. “Feel good, ja? First time free…But next time walk into me, maybe I charge extra.” She said as she threw her head back, cackling at her own dirty joke.

I imagine she saw how flushed my cheeks felt in that moment, as less than a second later she released me, giving my arm a reassuring squeeze as she did. Then, after the last bits of laughter left her, she carefully looked down at me saying “Is only joke. You okay? No hurt anywhere?

I shook my head no in response, still lost in a haze at the smell of her perfume lingering in my nose.

“Good boy. Is okay. I keep you safe… maybe break you a little, but only with permission,” she said, flashing me a devilish grin.

After our near fall, Nora kept me even closer. She laced her fingers through mine and wrapped her other arm snugly around my own, pressing herself into my side. I could feel the gentle heat of her body bleeding through her dress, shielding me from the chill that had settled over the streets.

In this new arrangement, it was much easier for her to steer me — something I only fully appreciated later. Because at that moment, all I could think about was the intoxicating weight of her breasts spilling against my shoulder, distracting me utterly from everything else as we moved together through the neon glow.

Before long, the familiar awning of my hotel finally came into view, bathed in a warm, golden glow that spilled invitingly across the street. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding — a tangled rush of relief and a faint, reluctant disappointment that our short walk was coming to an end.

As we approached the entrance, a bellhop standing by the doors gave us a quick once-over. His eyes lingered on Nora, widening slightly at the sight of this breathtaking woman clinging so intimately to the obviously flustered man beside her, then darted away just as quickly, as if embarrassed to be caught staring.

Nora let go of my arm but didn’t move far. Her hand drifted up to rest lightly on my chest, fingers curling into my shirt, her touch lingering just a heartbeat too long. Under the hotel lights, her eyes glittered with playful wickedness, daring me without a single word to invite her to stay the night.

“Thank you for fly air Nora!” She sang out with a dramatic bow. “Was close, ja? Get you home in one piece like promise, ja,” she smiled.

Looking nervously over my shoulder, I found myself stalling at the entrance, not quite ready to let her slip back into the night. The thought of leaving her there — of stepping inside alone, knowing I’d be on a plane first thing in the morning and gone by sunrise — twisted something low in my stomach.

Nora seemed to catch it instantly. Her playful smirk softened into something tender, almost wistful. She reached up and brushed her knuckles lightly along my jaw, her dark eyes searching mine.

“Aw… you make sad puppy face. Is cute,” she murmured, her accent wrapping around the words in that warm, clumsy way.

“I never get your name. What call?” She asked with a curious tilt of the head.

“My names Luca. And thank you again for helping me back here. Truly, I might have perished out there on my own.” I said, trying to mime an equally dramatic fall to her earlier bow.

Then, with a small sigh, she pulled a pen from somewhere inside her tiny purse and tugged my hand into hers, scribbling her number across my palm.

“Here. So Luca call me, ja? You not get lost next time. Or if you do… maybe I come rescue.” She gave me a soft, teasing wink, then squeezed my hand — careful not to smudge the ink — before letting it go.

Standing there like an idiot, I watched her disappear back into the darkness beyond the safe glow of the hotel lights, returning to her home in the pleasure district. Only when she was truly gone did I finally look down at my palm, the ink still fresh and a little smudged from where she’d pressed so close. I couldn’t help but smile.

The next few days blurred by in a haze of text messages with Nora. But it wasn’t all playful. Her boss turned out to be a vile old creep who punished her harshly for coming back that night empty handed. Over the following weeks, things only got worse — more rules, more threats, and more of Nora’s frightened messages lighting up my phone from thousands of miles away. I felt helpless.

Weeks slipped into months. One long night, after staring at my phone for hours waiting for her reply, I finally hit my breaking point. If nothing changed, I was terrified her life might truly be in danger. So I told her my plan: I’d quietly send her enough money to buy a plane ticket home. Her mother had grown sick lately, and without Nora’s support, things were dire.

The very next night, Nora ran. She left the pleasure district behind and boarded a flight to Norway. From then on, we talked almost every day, making due with long calls on the phone when we couldn’t video chat together. She even introduced me to her mother, a kind woman who didn’t speak a word of English, which only made us laugh harder.

As weeks passed, we only fell deeper and deeper for each other. Somewhere along the way, I found myself opening up in ways I never had before. I confessed my more submissive desires — how much it thrilled me to give up control, how I’d fantasized about chastity, about being teased and denied. Nora didn’t laugh or flinch; if anything, her eyes sparkled darker with intrigue each time I told her more.

It wasn’t long before I learned Nora’s family had once been quite wealthy. She’d recently inherited a substantial sum after her father passed. Honestly, I didn’t believe her at first — not until she showed me the letter from the bank, my eyes nearly popping out of my head when I saw it was true...

Nearly half a year later, she called me with that breathless excitement I adored. Her mother had fully recovered, and Nora was moving to America — to Las Vegas. It had always been her dream to own a hotel, and now that dream felt close enough to touch. Vegas was the city of opportunity and endless nights, something she was all too familiar with.

Life got busy for her after that. We spoke less often as she set up her new life. Almost a year and a half passed since we’d last stood face to face, and nearly a week since I’d even heard her voice. So, when she finally messaged me saying she’d bought me a plane ticket to visit, I felt my heart nearly stop.

But before I could start planning what to pack, she sent one more message — playful, commanding, laced with that wicked promise that always made my chest tighten.

“One thing first, ja? You remember our talk. Where you tell me about chastity thing? I want you wear cage for me… mail key to me tomorrow. Week before you leave. I want you like that when you come. Waiting only for me.”

And after everything — after every tender word, every dark confession, every night spent aching for her from thousands of miles away — how could I possibly refuse?

*******************************************************************************

This is the intro to the story, not full of depravity like my usual work, but building story is important and amking it a book and bla bla writer things. BUT DON'T WORRY! The following scenes will be FAR more lewd.

Be sure to leave a comment and tell me what you think as its been a long time since I posted something like this!