The Plan

He had just the right kind of butterflies. Just the right kind of nerves that meant he was aware and in the moment. She deserved that. He was man who could get lost in his own head far far too easily, but she deserved all of his attention, and all of his intent.

There was no grand plan. No big romantic date. Just the two of them spending some time together. Again.

Plans are simple and easy and rarely work out. No plan survives contact with the enemy. He had read that far too many years ago to count, and it was far more true than he first thought. But what do you do when the enemy is life? When things just happen?

There had been one fantastic date, and then there wasn't a second. There was life happening, and nothing could be done about that. It just was. And yet there was still something between them. If not a spark, then perhaps an ember. More than that he found he had confidence. A newfound confidence in himself, and that they would be something if he just let it happen. It made him feel more attractive, which was a very unusual sensation.

And an ember grew. Not a lot, but a little. It got brighter. Maybe just a hint of a spark? And so plans were made. Two friends spending the day together. If something happened then it happened, if it didn't then they got to spend the day together. No expectations beyond that. They enjoyed each other's company too much not to have a good time. Only after would they decide if it had been a second date, or perhaps a second first date would be a better way of describing it.

He was startled by the doorbell.

He had missed the sound of her car. So much for being in the moment. He shook his head to toss off the self criticism and opened the door.

"Hi," she said. It was what she said last time, not her normal "hello", but short and shy. Maybe it indicated she had the same nerves, the same hope for something more. Had she, like him, been fantasizing about what fun they might have if things went well?

"Hi," he echoed. "I thought we could just hang out and chat for a little". This was met with a smile and a nod.

He reached out to take her coat without asking. He could see the confusion on her face. What was he doing?

And that was when her smell hit him. My god, he thought. I missed that smell.

It was soft and light and maybe a little floral. He couldn't put his finger on it, he just knew that it was her.

No plan survives contact with the enemy and this time the enemy was him. His plan for a simple low key day was starting to give way to the most overwhelming desire to kiss her.

Before he would reach out and let his hand wrap around the back of her neck and them pull her close — comforting and commanding.

You don't own her now he reminded himself. He wasn't her Dom anymore. She wasn't his sub. They weren't... defined. He just knew he wanted her. He missed her. He ached for her.

Before he would have just taken. Consent was assumed. He had free use of her.

He tried to save the moment by putting his hand on her shoulder. A little awkward perhaps, but at least he didn't presume and kiss her.

She turned to let him take her coat and as it slipped off he realized: it was the same outfit she wore on their first date. That simple white blouse and pencil skirt. The one he had pulled up to reveal grey panties. He had taken them from her on that first date and promised to give them back on their second. They were still in his desk.

"You look nice", he said. He caught himself before he called her Kitten. The title she had as his sub.

"I know," she said with a grin

"Brat," she had that impetuous smile that she loved. She quickly took his face in her hands and kissed him, lips parted. It was soft, and wet, and delicious. It made him ache for her. It filled him with more desire than the deep kiss he had wanted to give her a moment before, and suddenly it was gone. She broke it and she was back standing there before him.

"This time I got to do it to you," she said. It had always been him that initiated. It was always him that kissed her.

So then he kissed her, and she kissed him, and they were off to the races, their mouths joined and he had her pressed up against the wall. He was back in his head. Not like last time, OK?, he chided himself. You can be bossy without being In Charge, and get out of your fucking head and be with her

Hs hands explored her body through her clothes. He hated them. They were in the way of everything that was important. He just wanted in them, to be touching her. To feel her. Last time he had gotten too carried away and marked her where people could see. He felt terrible, she was embarrassed, but it was also so very sexy to see that reminder fade over the week in the pictures she sent him.

But that was the old her, the one who was trying too hard to please her and not hard enough to be herself. He had to remind himself that she might not have seen it the same way. May not remember it the same way. He didn't want her to. He wanted to do the things to her that she needed this time.

That skirt was too tight and his hands felt like they they were a mile away from the hem to pull it up. Act locally, he thought. His fingers found her buttons but his fingers felt like they couldn't move correctly. Finally, somehow he managed to get one button undone and it felt like a miracle.

"You don't have to be so fucking gentle dear," she whispered. Was there a moment when she stopped herself from calling him Sir? Maybe he was just flattering himself, but he felt there was.

And with that his fingers found the gaps between the buttons and pulled. Buttons were no match for the force and either slipped through the slits or popped off entirely. Her bra was black and kept him from those breasts he loved. He wanted to bend down and bite them, to suck on her nipples, to suck so hard on the pale flesh. He wanted to pull it down, flip her around, wrap his hands around those perfect handfuls and squeeze. Her nipples were already prominent, but they would get so hard against her palms as he tightened his grip until he left finger shaped bruises on them.

He wanted, but that wasn't what he needed. He needed her now. He needed not to waste any more time.

Before she had been trying too hard to please him and said yes to too many things not understanding that what he wanted was what she wanted. Before they knew it they weren't really with each other, and it drove them apart when life got in the way.

Then they started talking, really talking and figured out who each other really was. Friendship to something that was maybe a maybe and they decided maybe to maybe have a date. Or at the very least see each other and then decide if it had been a date.

Date or not this was off to an amazing start

He stopped kissing her to look at her. She looked flustered, but happy — so very happy.

So he slapped her.

Hard.

Right across the face.

He didn't know this before, that she had been using submission to get to pain, that she questioned if she was even submissive at all; though he had been trying to explain it was much more complicated than she thought. Now he understood what her relationship with pain was, that it is what she needed. Now he did, he could give it to her. Just not right here in the front hall.

Her eyes were filled with joy and lust and she was about to speak and he slapped her again.

He took a handful of her hair, gathered it up, and made a fist. He heard her yelp and moan at the same time. He was pulling her across the room.

No... not the couch. That was where it had happened last time. It was wonderful, but time for new memories. She struggled to keep up, but she didn't fight him. Finally they were in the bedroom and he flung her face down onto the bed.

By the time she she had her hands under her and was trying to push up, he had that skirt up around her waist. No panties. Was she hoping to get the old ones back?

And that is when he saw something that made him smile, that made him know just how much she wanted this too. She was wearing the plug they had picked out together. The one with the purple heart shaped jewel. That heart the source of so many in jokes and tokens of affection. It was right there between her cheeks.

"Who said I want this?" She asked, but the grin on her face said she did.

SPANK The first strike was with a flat hand, intended to hurt and leave a mark. It shoved her forward into the bed.

"I think we both know you wouldn't be here if you didn't want it", he replied. "You aren't helpless here".

"Mmm" was the only sound she made. It was deeply unclear if it was agreement or not. She could be infuriating that way. But he wasn't going to live in doubt. Things only clicked into place after he found his confidence. To be confident meant you worked on an assumption until you were proven right or wrong. Time to push forward.

SPANK This time with a cupped hand so it would sting and make a louder sound. She loved that sound as much as the sensation.

"Well Kitten?" SPANK

"I'm not your kitten" she gasped.

"No" SPANK "You may not be my kitten, but you are still kitten."

He could see a smile mixed in with the pleasure and pain.

There, that was it. He saw the thing he couldn't see before. How could they be equals, while still keeping the best of the past? How could they be something new while still giving them both what they wanted?

SPANK SPANK SPANK

He reached down between her legs, that beautiful bald pussy was sopping wet. He hadn't even touched it until now, he just assumed.

His fingers played across her clit as he quickly shed his pants. It felt almost comical how fast they had gone from hello to being half naked at the edge of the bed.

The head of his cock was sliding over her clit. He held it against her pussy and gently slid back and forth.

"Should I take out the plug", he asked. They had discussed this in the past.

A quick nod was followed by a shake of the head. A little storm of indecision. It was endearing, if occasionally frustrating. She was so good at so many things, but knowing herself was sometimes a struggle. It didn't drive him away, it just made him wish he could help. It made him want to tell her all the things he saw about her, but struggled to communicate in a way that was actually helpful.

"Try" She gulped.

She had always been tight, and now she felt impossibly small, ut his cock started to slide into her. He grabbed her hips for leverage and kept pushing.

Her ass was red, it looked so nice. He could see he was going to leave marks she would admire in the mirror in the morning. If he was very lucky she would send him a picture and tell him she had a good time.

He was sliding in, he could feel the crown of the plug sliding against his cock. Kneading the shaft as he slid into her.

"Fuck", she gasped.

He went back to spanking her, both to distract her and give her the pain she craved. She was lost in sensation, and it was thrilling to give it to her.

His strokes were slow and long. It was hard to do anything else, but he could keep up this pace for a long time. Mixing strokes with blows against her cheeks until she came or begged him to stop.

He reached down between her lets. He slapped her clit and made her squeal.

He did it again to savor the sensation, and how tightly she squeezed his cock.

He then put one finger on either side of her clit and started slowly making circles with the tips.

"No," she said, but she hadn't used a safeword.

"No," she said again a little firmer.

"Do you want me to stop?" as he asked his fingers started to pull away.

"No!" She insisted and pressed his fingers back into place.

They lay over his, pressing in. She showed him just the pressure she wanted, adjusting the motion. They kept at it like this until she couldn't hold herself up with one arm anymore. But he had been paying attention, hey might be doing this to her, but he was paying attention to what she wanted. It was what he needed. Not to own her, but to take charge for a bit.

It felt like that was Important, one of those big thoughts that mean something, but he was too focused on what was happening to think...much.

It seemed like forever, slowly fulling her pussy with his cock and pulling it out again. Finding a rhythm they both liked. He just kept playing with her clit. It felt a bit like an endurance sport, but it was also amazing. They were connected and in the zone they had only been in once before.

No... this felt different. This felt like he was assuming a lot less, and paying a lot more attention.

"No!" She shook her head.

"What?" He finally asked. He had no sense of time, but it felt like it had been a while. Not just the dilation that happens when you are focused on one another, but this felt like real time had passed. He could keep going, but knew he was starting to feel it, his fingers were locked in position stoking that little clit, but they would cramp at some point. Still he was dedicated to keep going.

"No!" He face screwed up in concentration.

"No! I'm not going to cum for you", she groaned.

Ohhhh, he thought. Before he had said he owned her orgasms. That they belonged to her now.

"Cum for me Kitten," he insisted.

"It's mine, you don't get to have it," a hint of strain hin her voice.

"It's ok," he reassured her.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't want this," he said. "Cum for me Kitten," he insisted.

"No!" She grunted, it was so hard for her to talk. "You don't own me anymore! They are mine."

His face softened, he leaned down closer to her ear. His face brushing her hair.

"Darling, I don't need to own you," His voice was halfway to a whisper.

"I just want you to lend yourself to me for a little bit." He paused, because that thought came back. That Important thought that had been working away in the back of his head was back.

"I just want to own you today" He concluded.

"Oh," she said softly. It was like she understood it too, that she didn't have to be a sub all the time. She didn't even need to fully be in sub-space. Sje could just be his when she wanted to be his, but without that control she couldn't help herself. Her brain shut down as her body took over.

She came. She came hard with his fingers playing with her clit. Her face screwed up in a mixture of pleasure and pain. He collapsed onto her and felt her body convulse against his. He hadn't cum, but it was too perfect a moment.

He held her until thought came back to her and she pushed him off.

"My turn," she said, "You own me an orgasm. You didn't cum last time."

She slid down his body until his cock was against her face. She took him into her mouth. It was an assertiveness he had never seen. He might be a Dom, but it was damn sexy to see. He didn't have to be submissive to be aroused by her wanting to be in charge.

He didn't last long. He was out of composure, and she was far far too skilled. He barely got his hands onto the back of her head when he came. She just let him fill her mouth and made a show of swallowing it. Savoring the display of assertiveness.

She lay down with her head on his stomach. Her finger gently tracing the outline of his glans. It was impossibly soon, but he could feel something stirring again. That primal need for her.

He started imagining this new her on top of her, riding him. A primal thing using him for her pleasure and both of them loving it. Her lending herself to him at times, but never needing him to be in control all the time.

She kissed the head of his cock and watched it move.

He pictured slapping her breasts as took him. No longer her being used and him being the user. Even when he borrowed her it could be like this. He could make her be this person. He could dominate her with being her Dom... or even a Dom at all. He could be fucked by her and love it. He could hurt her as she strived to give him pleasure and not just take it from her thinking that is what she loved.

He felt that flash flood of desire and ability coursing its way from his brain through his body.

"What do you want to do now?" she asked. She had a happy smile filled with lust.

"Good question," he said. "I'm not sure I have a plan" For a change

She took his hand and squeezed.

"I do", she said as her other hand wrapped around him...