Date:          February 2005
Title:         Blindfolded
Author:        Jeroen Verbeek, Copyright (C) 2005. All rights reserved.

Summary:       At my birthday party my wife blindfolds me and I have to 
               play a game of guessing people.

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Blindfolded


"Darling, I have the most wonderful surprise for you for dinner tonight!" 
my wife Vanya exclaimed at the front door, somewhat excited.
     I entered the hallway unsuspectingly, and noticed she held up a black 
strip of material long enough to wrap around someone's head twice.
     "Close your eyes," she said. "You can trust me."
     I did so, standing still, unsure as she applied the blindfold 
carefully across my eyes before tying it firmly at the back of my head.
     "Can you see?"
     "Not a thing."
     Waiting in total darkness, I clasped my hands in front of me. Then I 
felt a warm hand on my shoulder guiding me to a spot somewhere in the 
living room. Completely trusting, I let the hand lead me, making the 
promise not to peek.
     "Things will start any minute," Vanya said, "As soon as the guests 
arrive."
     "Guests? Did you say guests?"
     "That's right. Guests. Now just relax and have some fun."
     I heard her move to the door and opened it. There were muffled voices, 
a number of soft giggles as if they were stifled with hands or 
handkerchiefs. Then I heard footsteps, movement around me, more shuffling 
and low whispers. My wife wasn't kidding, I was standing in front of a 
bunch of total strangers in my own house!

The blindfold was very good. It cut off my vision totally. But my other 
senses seemed sharpened by the denial of the one. I sensed people around 
me, gazing at me, and I wondered what would happen next. A moment later I 
heard my wife's voice very close to my ear, speaking softly, "Here are the 
rules. It's a simple game. Just touch and guess who we are."
     I picked up my hands, and took a step forward. My fingertips brushed 
against a clothed male chest which was decorated with a tie. I slowly moved 
upwards, touching the knot of the tie, the man's chin, his mouth, and 
finally his pencil-thin moustache. This must be my father!
     "Well done," my wife said. "Who's turn is it now?"
     A woman must have quickly positioned herself in front of me, because 
the next moment my hands slid over the curves of her hips. Taking my cue, I 
allowed my hand a gentle motion across her belly, and up toward her chest. 
Then, with a subtle touch of naughtiness, I cupped both her breasts from 
the outside of her blouse. A girlish yelp escaped her lips, but she didn't 
try to pull free. Her breasts were full and firm against the fabric. I 
brushed my thumbs over her nipples, making them crinkle and stand to 
attention. There was no doubt she was my younger sister.
     Another person came close to me. An old woman, I thought, tracing my 
hands up to her face. As I let my fingers trail along her wrinkled skin, I 
felt her shudder. 
     "Grandma?" I wondered out loud. This was impossible. She died five 
years ago!
     "Who is next?" I heard Vanya's voice ask in the background.
     Without any notice somebody gently lifted my blindfolded face, and 
gave me a kiss on my cheek, almost tenderly, as a mother would kiss a small 
child. Then she went away, leaving me wondering who she was.
     "Well..." I hesitated for a moment. "This is a difficult one."
     I stood in an awkward silence for a while until I smiled and said, "My 
mother."
     "Congratulations! Four out of four. Let's check out the last 
candidate."
     Another woman. My hands slowly moved from her shoulders to the back of 
her neck. I'd lingered these curves a thousand times before. A victorious 
smile spread across my face.
     "It's you, honey," I said, "Game over. I win."
     I heard applause, which grew louder and louder. It came from all 
around. And the applause continued when she pressed herself against me in a 
passionate kiss, her tongue probing the inside of my mouth. 
     I answered her kiss. Deepening it as I explored a teardrop-shaped 
piece of metal passed through her tongue. A sick feeling writhed in the pit 
of my stomach as my eyes widened with awful realization. My wife didn't 
have a tongue piercing. I was kissing another woman! What the hell was 
going on? I tried to break the embrace, but she didn't allow that, 
increasing the pressure on my mouth. When she finally broke the kiss, she 
chuckled under her breath, and pushed me away. But before I could react, 
many hands grabbed me, and I suddenly felt very vulnerable in my blindness. 
It happened so fast, that I was not able to defend myself. My heart raced; 
adrenaline rushed through my bloodstream. A horrified scream lodged in my 
throat, as I tried to fight off the multitude of hands. I quivered, 
anticipating where the next touch would come. I tried to count the number 
of hands, but immediately gave up. They were moving too often, changing 
places rapidly.
     I can't explain the feeling of being touched by so many hands; it is 
like you surrender yourself to an almost existential force and just let it 
go. It felt as if a thousand of fingers were tugging and pulling at my 
clothing. Ripping and tearing.
     After a few long-lasting minutes they stopped. Someone giggled. 
Another giggle. Then full laughter.
     "Surprise!" they all cried in unison as my wife removed my blindfold.
     I blinked several times quickly, trying to adjust the sudden assault 
of light to my eyes. It seemed I had been blindfolded for hours, I thought. 
When my pupils came back into focus I looked around the room in dismay. To 
my shock and horror, my whole family was seated around the dinner table!
     "Happy birthday, darling," Vanya said, and pulled me into an intimate 
kiss. I felt her tongue, the two tiny steel studs which pierced it touching 
deep inside my mouth. Then she ran the metal button along the outside of my 
twenty-six teeth. I froze in place. It was her again!
     "Guess what I did this morning?"
     She stuck her tongue out to show me the barbell-shaped piece of 
jewelry that pierced it.
     "I had my tongue pierced!"
     I stiffled chuckles at the clacking of hyperallergenic silver against 
enamel. Then, with a sigh of relief that got promptly drowned out by the 
cheering, backslapping and general revelry, I sat down and raised a glass. 
"To my wife Vanya, and her crazy sense of humor."
     


The End



----- This work is copyright (C) Jeroen Verbeek, 2005, all rights reserved -----