I wait in the darkness: lights off, shades are drawn, deep darkness. I need the dark to do what I am about to do. His body will be just as black as the room I wait in.My body is white in the darkened room, but I wear a black mask. If I open them, my pale green eyes will see in the dimmest light, but I don’t wish to see him. I wish to inhale him. I wish to breathe his musk, hear his sounds, feel his size, experience his blackness and accept his passion.I may taste him if he asks me, too, but I do not wish to see him. Not tonight. Perhaps another night, if there is one.I am Cat Woman in the dark as I wait for him. Black mask. Red lipstick. My once black-haired pussy is now silvered with age. I lie naked in the dark.My wedding ring lies Ankara escort in a silver dish on the nightstand. My ring is the sole, silent observer of the scene tonight, and it sits in the darkness like me. Waiting.All men are black in the dark, but they’re not the same shade. I like the blackest shade of men. Always have. Always will. A black man brings black lust and black sex. Black sex is at its best in a blackout-curtained bedroom like mine.I finger the silver wheat of my aged cunt and imagine the dark pleasures that will soon arrive. I am moist, and moistness is arousal. The shades are drawn, the lights are off. My husband screened my dark lover before I met him. He knows who we are. And where Ankara escort bayan we live.And so I wait, masked and moistened, for my lover’s shade to arrive.My eyes are closed behind my mask lest the whiteness of my soul lighten the room. Some say eyes are windows to the soul. Better do this black deed entirely in the dark to keep my white soul hidden. No need to see him tonight. I prefer the image of him rather than the reality. He is my black lover-thief who will use my husband’s house key to steal my silver for himself. It’s been arranged.I hear the front door open and close. I hear his sounds in my bedroom. His belt unbuckles, his zipper unzips. His weight upon my bed makes it creak. He’s Escort Ankara a heavy man. I know this without seeing him.I open my legs.He needs no key of mine. My silvered pussy is his to take. His hand caresses my cunt, and he finds my silver is wet for him. My lover-thief presses his burglar’s tool against my pussy, and I grasp him to guide his black burglar tool into my vault.He is not ebony in the dark. He is simply the dark. He’s my Dark Knight, and he’s a thief. He’s a lover-thief Dark Knight, without a cowl or a condom. The darkness has become his cowl. His uncut black foreskin is the condom that slides inside me.Unopened in the table drawer, a condom waits in the darkness. My lover-thief said, ‘no damn condom.’ My cunt acquiesced.He makes me feel something in the dark. The same way other Dark Knights do. Exotic, erotic, desirable. I have dirty feelings for him. I don’t care that dirty feelings stain my marriage, and I don’t care what others think. I surrender to his shade and welcome his burglar’s tool with moisture.