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Iâve been dreaming of a character named Layla/Leila almost since I started writingâŚand finally Layla has shown up. Maybe Iâll think this everytime I write a story, but I absolutely adore Layla and Sarah and theyâre my favorites right now.
 They explicitly discuss consent, and safety is a priority. Trigger warnings: thereâs bondage, control, degradation/humiliationâŚ.but no pain nor consensual non-consent or non-consent.. Thereâs a lot of sexy banter and build up beforeâŚÂ
Chapter oneÂ
I know a lot of people would say dating apps are terrible, or at least a terribly unromantic way to meet. They were probably my best bet. My hobby, painting, was too solitary for me to meet people. I was too quiet for ladies night dances and the bar scene. Those sorts of things ended up with me standing near a wall, feeling awkward as hell. Like my dad, Iâm an introverted computer scientist. My dad left Iran after the revolution with his new bride, my mom, to get his PhD in the bay area. I was born over a decade after they married, and was their only child. For a while, they tried introducing me to nice boys whose families they were friends with. About a year ago, I finally told them I wasnât interested in men or the traditional life they had envisioned for me. I couldnât marry one of those dudes - imagine being married to someone who wasnât attracted to you sexually - and I knew it was wrong to give them all false hope. My parents didnât say much, but I could hear the reproach and slight sadness when they told me about so-and-so upcoming wedding, or that some friends or family were new grandparents. I talked to them less and less over the last several months, and it made me feel resentful and unrooted. Our relationship hadnât recovered after I told them, and I had the feeling it would never be the same again. Iâm very much my dadâs daughter. Both of us are quietly determined, unyielding in our morality, and neither of us is likely to soften.Â
Like many people, I turned to dating apps when I felt alone. Through one of them, I met a woman who changed my life. Rachel had a boyfriend, but she also wanted to date a woman. Her boyfriend, Ezra, was cool with this. Iâm not normally into the poly thing, but hey, I needed to break my dry spell and she was cute. It sizzled, then fizzled. Oh, those weeks with her were so much fun. It was almost as if she was new to sex, and her giddy exuberance and eagerness were infectious. I had been falling for her a little, until the night we ended up at her place. She cuffed me to her bed, and, oh, she did some really fun things to me. At the end of the night, it struck me that her boyfriend was outside, and she would go back to him while I went home alone. When I left that night, I didnât make eye contact with either of them, and ducked out as quietly and quickly as I could. I realized her unavailability and my aloneness would make it too easy for me to catch feelings. I was definitely not cut out for free love or its modern cousin, polyamory. So the next day, I broke it off, and that worked out for the best because we became close friends.Â
One night, we grabbed Thai food and she leaned in excitedly to say âLayla, thereâs someone Ezra wants to introduce you to. Sheâs a little older, like forty. Is that okay?â
Anyway. That means sheâs a bit over ten years older than me. Hm. âHm, I think so. Why does he want us to meet?âÂ
âSheâs into women too. Sheâs sexuallyâŚI think sheâd be a good match. And sheâs pretty, smart, and just a good person. Youâre both sort of the deep, thoughtful type. The age gap would be my only worry in introducing you.âÂ
âDoes she have a name?â
âOh,â Rachel laughed. âRight. Itâs Sarahâ
âHow do you know about the sexually part?â My first thought was that I didnât want my ex-loverâs leavings. I know thatâs not a great way to view things, but something about the thought of having sex with someone an ex lover of mine had sex was uncomfortable for me. It was already weird enough that my ex-lover wanted to introduce me to someone. In my mind, I sighed. I didnât have that sort of easiness about sex, because sex wasnât light or play. Itâs one of the most vulnerable things for most of us, really, so intimate, with so many emotions, dredging up childhood shit, and with all those concerns about psychological, physical, and sexual safety.Â
âOh, um, you know, I guess thatâs something she and Ezra have in common. Though I donât think sheâs as, um, you know, into the exact same things. She mentioned to him that she wanted a lady who was into it and it was hard to find. Ezra mentioned it to me, and I thought of you.âÂ
I sighed out loud this time. Her boyfriend knows something about what Iâm into sexually. I should have known. Something about them made me think of a closed circle, they were that close. Was he one of those straight dudes who liked fantasizing about his girlfriend having sex with another woman? Which would be fine if I wasnât that other woman. Ugh, why did it really matter to me what he thought or if he got off on the thought of his girlfriend and me having sex? It wasnât about me. So again, I thought I shouldnât care, but I did care and it bothered me. Donât fuck cute woman with a boyfriend again. I was a serious relationship only type of woman. I was too anxious for casual hookups. And right now, I was making myself anxious over something that wasnât in my control. âAlright, sure, you can give her my number.âÂ
Two days later, Sarah texted me. After making small talk for a bit, she said she wasnât entirely comfortable that I was eleven years younger than her. She said Ezra and Rachel had been so enthusiastic about us meeting that she decided to give it a shot. Sarah said still wanted to recognize that there was an age gap. She didnât want to take advantage of my youth or inexperience, and so she promised me sheâd be cautious and keep that in mind during our interactions. She also hadnât been in a relationship for four years. That made me frown, because, as you may have noticed, Iâm pretty sensitive. I felt wary that maybe she was being critical - maybe she thought I was immature or incapable - because I was younger than her. But I gave her the benefit of the doubtâŚmaybe this was a good thing, since it showed she had morals and was thoughtful andâŚand as usual, I was overthinking.
So heart thumping, I deliberately relaxed. She seemed thoughtful. I thought Iâd be a little flirtatious. Is that the only reason? Isnât the thought of taking control of a younger woman hot?Â
And here I thought you were a sweet thing and I was feeling bad for having thoughts of besmirching your innocence. Yes, itâs pretty hot, little girl.Â
Whoa. I liked her response so much that I could feel the heat creep through my body. I may be quiet, but Iâm not at all shy about getting what I want. If youâre really lucky, maybe youâll get to find out if I have any innocence left for you toâŚcorrupt.Â
That makes me think you donât have much. Maybe I could have fun with you.Â
I really liked it when you called me little girl. But Iâm not the kind of girl who just wants to have fun. But I know how to have funâŚand I always make sure my ladies have fun too ;)Â
Well then, naughty girl, you should put the brakes on your flirting and not tempt me into too much too soon.Â
What will happen to me if I donât đ
Letâs just say I have a few ways of making bad girls behave. If youâre really lucky, maybe youâll find out.Â
Oh, I liked that. I liked that so much that I could feel the heat bloom between my legs. Slow down, I told myself, you havenât even met and you donât know if there will be any chemistry in real life. You donât know a damn thing about her. But the wetness between my legs screamed at me to keep going.Â
I feel like being a bad girl right now.Â
Do you? What do you do when youâre bad?Â
Sometimes, when Iâm very bad, I play with my toys.Â
What type of toy? Are you touching yourself between your legs? Are youâŚslippery? Â
Itâs a big, buzzy magical wand. Do you want to know if itâs slippery?Â
Yes, I want to know if Iâm making you wet. Take off your clothes, but keep your panties on.Â
I took off my warm pajamas. Okay, theyâre off. I feel cold. Â
What do your panties look like?Â
Theyâre black, lace.Â
Are they wet?Â
Yes. Theyâre soaked.Â
Youâre a very naughty little girl for getting your panties wet. And a very bold girl for flirting and teasing me. No, I donât want you to touch yourself, and bad girls donât get to play with their special toys.
Okay. Good night. See you in two days?
Yes. Are you going to be a good girl and do as I told you?
Of course. Should I sleep undressed like this?Â
Yes. Sexy dreams, little girl.Â
Hm, that little exchange was so hot. Cold and horny as fuck, I snuggled into my bed, hand between my knees, and fell asleep. I donât know exactly when I woke up, but it was still dark. I felt so fucking aroused, was wet and aching with it, and I longed to ask her if I could touch myself. I whined and whimpered, tossing and turning until I fell back into light sleep. I woke up too early the next morning. I wanted her to tell me it was okay to touch myself. I hadnât even met her yet and I wanted to give her my orgasms. That soundedâŚfun.Â
Please, could I touch myself?Â
You donât have to ask.Â
I want to ask.Â
Youâve got some fight in you. I like that. ;)Â
Should I use my fingers or my toy?
Youâre aching to give up control, arenât you?Â
Yes.Â
Do you need to get off so you can focus on work? Are you a needy little girl?Â
Yes, please. Yes, I am.Â
Go rub your clit with your fingers.
I laid down and opened my legs. I didnât even know who she was yet, but I knew some things. I have this theory that you can sort of sense kinkiness, or kinky compatibility through small things. The way she responded to my flirtatious text, with a straight up sexual one through which she took charge of the interaction and I followed her lead showed me that. I knew she was thoughtful and had a moral compass, and those things made me feel safe to continue flirting. There was something about her concerns that felt really authentic. But I could feel her loneliness, and it somehow felt like mine.Â
So my horniness, it wasnât just a bodily sexual rush. No, the rush of sensuality coupled with the feeling of safetyâŚthe way that aroused me started somewhere deep in my mind and tingled through what felt like every nerve in my body. She had so many qualities that I craved. Her clever, quick banter got me wet. The speed, ease, and confidence with which she took control was so fucking hot. I wanted to hear her voice when she called me little girl.Â
I imagined her telling me to open my legs wider, watching me getting wetter for her, my clit swelling with arousal. Are you a filthy, needy little girl? Yes, Mistress. Please, Mistress, may I come? I imagined her laughing at me, gently pinching my nipples while I gasped and soaked my fingers. Open yourself wider for me, show me how badly you need it. Such a greedy little pussy. Cum for me, little girl. And I moaned and gasped, and penetrated myself with two fingers. I could feel the pulsing pleasure tingling through my bodyâŚso close. Mistress, could I please taste you? Please, I want it so bad. PleaseâŚAnd I gasped again, hand clamped over my mouth to muffle the frantic cries of pleasure at the thought of begging her to please, please, please let me lick her pussy. I laid back, fingers still soaked, and god, I wanted her pussy so bad. You havenât even met her, all you did was exchange a couple of texts, slow the fuck down, I told myself, stop obsessing.Â
Fuck it. I didnât want to slow down. The next day, I kept up the recklessness when choosing an outfit. I wore the only short skirt I owned, high stockings, bootsâŚhmm, a high necked shirt, and my favorite beat up leather jacket. The skirt thoughâŚI couldnât even bend over in the thing. I fluffed my thick wavy black hair, broke out some eyeliner to accent my green eyes. They were definitely my best feature, especially because my hair was so dark and my skin was sort of light brown.Â
I thought Iâd be clever and get to the coffee shop earlyâŚbut she was already there. Thick chin length hair, hazel-brown eyes, shoulders broader than mine, and several inches taller than me. None of that mattered. What mattered was the way she looked at me, calm, clear-eyed, a slight smileâŚsomehow as if she saw right through my attempt to get there so I could have watched her walk in and scope her out. I could feel her strength in her level gaze, and I wanted to kneel at her feet in respect and humility.
But we were in a coffee shop and Iâd just met her. I sat down next to her as if I was still sane.Â
âDecaf? Itâs too late in the day for anything else, and if weâre going to be sitting here, I want to give them some business. And if youâre okay with it, Iâd like to buy that coffee for you.â Yeah, like I said, thoughtful.
âYes, that sounds good.â Damnit, why couldnât I say something clever?Â
âYour order?âÂ
âUm, a decaf cappuccino. Thank you so much.âÂ
âOf course, Layla. Now, go grab that little table so no one takes it.â
I didnât even think twice as I moved to obey. We started chatting. First, as is common with queer ladies, our coming out stories. Iâd always known, ever since Iâd felt the first flush of sexuality. She grew up lower middle class and was the first person in her family to go to college. That explained something about why she had control and self-discipline. Then, Sarah had almost gotten engaged in her mid-twenties, but couldnât go through with it as it dawned on her why she didnât really want to sleep with her then-boyfriend. We talked about childhood and families. Her family responded as coolly as mine. Both were accepting, but not quite supportive. She was more masc than I wasâŚIâd say she was androgynous. Maybe she was non-binary. She said she didnât feel particularly feminine or masculine, just sort of in the middle. She also felt like she was a woman, and she said she was old enough to be comfortable the way she was. I was straight up femme, even if I worked in a male-dominated industry and even though I didnât wear short skirts normally.Â
âOh, and you decided to wear one today?â
I nodded.
âAlright, Layla. Would you be comfortable uncrossing your legs? Only if youâre comfortable.âÂ
I suddenly felt like air had left the room. âYes,â pushing my knees slightly apart. I felt her foot against mine, then the other one, kicking my feet apart a little wider. I helplessly, thoughtlessly parted my lips, my breath coming a little faster, watching her watching me. Anyone could see us, anyone could see up my skirt if they really triedâŚ
My skin tingled as she leaned in closer. âHow does that feel?â
âIt, I, ohâŚ.â
âYouâre enjoying it, I think? But are you comfortable with that?â
âYes, I am, M-Sarah.â
âSome part of me wishes I had a fork to drop right now, but I -âÂ
I leaned in even closer. Her eyes were beautiful. Clear, almost hazel. âIf you did, Iâd open my legs a little more and maybe youâd see how wet youâre making my panties.âÂ
She was absent-mindedly rubbing her lower lip âLayla, would you like to go for a walk? Theyâre closing soon anyway.â
âYesâ
âLayla,â she said when we were outside. âRachel and Ezra told me about - you and Rachel. So I know. Iâm sorry.â
âWhy? I ended it.â
âIâm sorry I know. Iâm glad they told me when they told me about you, but I also want to respect your privacy. I donât know anything sexual, just that Rachel said you had some submissive tendencies. They go beyond tendencies in our interactions. Rachel said you broke it off because you didnât want to get hurt. And Iâm attracted to you - god, youâre gorgeous, with that hair and those eyes - but youâre young. I donât want to rush and hurt you.âÂ
âIâm glad you know. Yeah, I broke it off after three weeks because I didnât want to get attached and feel hurt. Iâm new to the circle. Iâm a sub. I guess, you know Iâm a sub. Iâm a lesbian. Iâm nerdy and over eighty percent of the people in my field are men. I paint in my spare time. And I think Iâm a bit isolated because of all of that, and I donât know, I donât open up that often to people. So with Rachel, I never fully submitted. It was like, sure, there was some light D/s play. Itâs weird, because we had sex, but I feel like Iâve submitted to you. It feels like Iâve done more with you.âÂ
âI get the feeling that you want to submit to me very badly. My read on you is that, like a lot of subs, you tend toward anxiety and overthinking. Being controlled soothes some of that anxiety. Some anxious folks get wrapped up in their heads with anxiety. You though, youâre the type that became more thoughtful and kinder to others because you think so much.â I stared up at her, wondering how she knew. She paused. âWould you like a hug?âÂ
I didnât answer in words, instead moving into her warm embrace. I pushed up against her, feeling my chest flatten into herâŚ
âYouâre a very naughty little girl.â Oh my god, I could have melted there and then.Â
âI feel like being a very bad girl.â
âYeah? Would you like it if I found us a dark place and put my hand up that slutty little skirt?âÂ
âYes, please.â I moved back toward her, not caring if anyone saw me.Â
âSoon, but not now, and not tonight. I want to get to know you better, and I donât want to until I know this isnât going to end with hurt feelings. â
âWe can never know that,â I scoffed.Â
âAh, youth. Youâre not afraid of a broken heart. Iâd rather we get to a point where we both know weâre serious about one another before I make you submit. Though,â she looked amused, âseems like I donât have to make you do anything.âÂ
I scowled. âI hope I never get to the point where Iâm afraid to fall in love. Youâre saying to take it slow, but youâre speeding along just as fast as I am. Youâre controlling me in making me wait. It makes me want to kneel at your feet and beg to please you.â
She laughed. âAnd youâd like that, wouldnât you?â
âHow did you know about my overthinking?â
âI picked up on it when you were telling me about your parents, and how you didnât want to give them false hope and how you didnât want the families of the men they were talking to have false hope either. I think itâs wonderful that you think so much about others, and it makes me feel protective toward you. A lot of people care about others, but you think deeply about them, which means you care more. Which makes you vulnerable.âÂ
 âYouâre thoughtful too. And you have a moral compass of your own.â
âYes.â She spoke with so much self-awareness and confidence, not even bothering to ask me how I knew. âI donât want to hurt others. Nor do I want to take advantage of them for my personal benefit, even when theyâre practically throwing themselves at me and you keep escalating because you want them too. Especially not when theyâre as sweet and lovely as you.âÂ
âI - Iâm sorry,âÂ
âDonât be. Itâs very flattering. Iâm glad that you know what you want. Seems like you always have. Itâs very sexy, especially when itâs coming from someone younger, like you.â When she said that, I lost what little doubt I had that she liked me. The thought made me smile. âKeep smiling like that and you might wear down my resolve even faster, green-eyed little minx.âÂ
I grinned at her, nearly laughing. What resolve? âOh, no. Iâm enjoying this.âÂ
For our second date, the slow tease and deep conversation continued over Korean food across the street from the coffee shop we first met at. I loved the neighborhood: it was slow, almost sleepy for San Francisco, surrounded by the ocean and green space, and it reminded me of the bay area of my childhood. I felt so comfortable here, because I loved this city and it deeply felt like home. And with herâŚeverything felt like magic. We were sitting over a too-big table full of too many small dishes and I longed to be closer to her in the way you do when you meet someone new that youâre terribly excited about and terrifically attracted to. I thought her face to be so interesting, and couldnât imagine Iâd ever tire of watching her.Â
âDo you want to see my apartment?â I asked shyly as dinner finished up.Â
âWill you be a good girl?â
I swallowed hard. âYes. I promise, Mistress.âÂ
She shook her head. âYouâŚyouâre an incorrigible little minx.âÂ
âYou bring that out in me,â I laughed. âIt means I must be comfortable with you.â
âItâs only our second date. Being pursued by my sub is an interesting experience.âÂ
âOh, really? Your sub?â I gave her my most wicked smile.Â
When we walked out, I told her excitedly about what I loved about the city. And she told me how sheâd fallen in love with it after breaking up with her last boyfriend and moving here. It was a safe refuge for her then, when she was young and still figuring herself out.Â
"Would you like for me to ask for your consent each step of the way? Or would you rather I make you submit, little minx?â
âI - I want you to take it from me. Surprise me, within our limits of course.âÂ
When we arrived, I showed her around. Kitchen with a large dining area, living room, and my painting room. It was an odd room, long and narrow, the size of a large closet but with a window at the end. I painted small, sensual pieces, influenced by Persian miniatures but very modern. Strange how that part of me came out in my art in a way that it didnât in my day-to-day life.
âLayla, these are gorgeous. Theyâre absolutely stunning.â I mean, of course she would say that, but that she was studying them excitedly suggested she actually meant it. âTheyâre so sexyâŚso detailedâŚsuch colorâŚâ I could feel myself beamingâŚfloating on a cloud of happiness and light because the person I wanted as my lover loved something that was important to me. You know the feeling, Iâm sure. âÂ
And lastly, still feeling quiet, I showed her my little bedroom. She closed the door behind her when we walked in. I knew what that meant, and I wasnât sure how to react or feel. Scared? Happy? Excited? Shy? Nervous? Yes, but above all, horny as fuck.Â
âTake your clothes off.â
I hesitated. âI - Mistress, please, um, okay.â
She grabbed me, bending me over her arm with a hand very loosely curled around my throat before she pushed me onto my bed. âI donât really like pauses, little girl. When I tell you to do something, you do it. Now, take off your fucking clothes and let me see how wet this makes your pussy.âÂ
I stood up, and pulled off my sweater, jeans, and socks. I hesitated, nervously, when I got to my bra. And she came over, and pulled me onto her lap. One arm held me down, and with the other, she captured my right wrist, then my left, using my surprise and speed to her advantage. I squirmed under her as she held me down, face down with my ass in her lap. It was as if I was held by the coldest, immovable vice grip in existence. My struggling didnât affect her at all.Â
Could I have fought her off? Maybe. But she was the Mistress I wanted, and I didnât dare disobey her. Her level-headed controlâŚI could feel my heart thumping. I had no idea what she had planned for me. I had been very flirty and acting very cute and a little bratty sometimes, but I knew almost nothing about what she expected as a dominant. Had I been a bad girl? Had I earned her anger? Was she going to punish me? And if so, what would that punishment be? I quivered, squirming, fearful of the unknown. A helpless little girl, overtaken by someone with so much more power in my own home.Â
âPlease Mistress, Iâm sorry.â I squirmed. Her still power was so terrifying in that moment. It was almost as if she crackled with it, and she was so goddamn unaffected by me. Thereâs something about that type of power, the kind that comes from supreme mastery of oneâs own selfâŚit was so much more frightening, so much more powerful than the loud kind.Â
âAre you? Youâve been such a bad girl, such a seductive little minx.â Her voice was low, betraying no hint of how she felt or what she was going to do to me.Â
âYes, Mistress, Iâm sorry. Iâm still learning to please you. Please. Please donât punish me.âÂ
âThereâs nothing to be afraid of, little minx. Iâm not interested in heavy pain, and I donât punish. I do like seeing how much degradation youâll take to please me, and Iâll use that with little rewards to train you to be a good girl. Next time we do this, youâll be in ropes and cuffs.â Her face was near my pussy, and I shivered in humiliation. âI can smell how horny you are.â
I wasnât afraid. Well, not exactly, I wasnât afraid for myself. It was more that I was afraid of displeasing her, when I was going crazy with how much I wanted her. âP-pul-please Mistress. I didnât mean to be a bad girl. Itâs justâŚyou justâŚI just feel so horny with you.â
âFlattery will only make me harder.â That made me feel so small and helpless. She quickly unsnapped and pulled off my bra, reaching down and pinching a nipple until I yelped. Then she pulled down my panties, so that they stopped near the tops of my thighs. âYouâve been such a good girl all your life, havenât you? So smart, so used to getting what you need. But today, Iâd like to teach you how to exist only for me in these moments. Now, close your fucking legs, stop arching to show off your sexy little ass, and stop trying to rub your needy pussy against me.âÂ
I nearly cried in embarrassment, because I hadnât even noticed how I was trying to find some friction against my needy clit and hole, or how my desperate writhing meant I was pushing up my ass while she watched. What got to me, took me even deeper into infatuation, was her absolutely calm, her control, the way she gave away nothing as she easily outsmarted even someone as smart as me.Â
âIâm going to give you a spanking, naughty little minx, because you keep pushing your ass up and enticing me with this round softness.â She caressed it, rubbing her hand in a circular motion. Truly, I felt so small then, with my panties pulled down to my thighs. I felt so much that it was almost overwhelming: humiliation, fear, lust, infatuation, connection, belongingâŚand the mad, crazy desire to please her, to kneel at her feet and beg her to tell me what I should do if I wanted to stay there. I felt like I was half-crazed with longing for her to touch me.Â
The anticipation of her spanking was like the slow climb up a roller coasterâŚand those seconds before when youâre still at the top, then the drop, when I felt the flat of her hand landing perfectly dead-center in the middle of my ass, breaking the silence with a loud clap of impact. The heady rush of everything hit me, and I sniffled and stopped holding back tears of frustration and humiliation.Â
I arched up again, crying in embarrassment and scared but craving more. If she wanted this, I wanted it too. She slapped my ass again, and I whined and moaned. The thought of being trained to exist for her pleasure then made me weak and wet. And again, landing on the same spot perfectly, so that I cried out. And harder while I shrieked. Then she smacked my right side, then the left, and my face crumpled into my sheets, as I cried and writhed for her. And again, center, right, left, harder, softer, alternating in a beautiful pattern that completely did me in because I could tell how careful and thoughtful she was in this. I let go, shrieking and crying with that sinful pleasure, going almost giddy with it.Â
When she finally finished, releasing my aching wrists, I slid to the floor, between her legs. I put my face there, then looked up. She nodded, and I pushed my thumb between her legs, wishing her pants werenât in my way, rubbing her before I kissed her there. I moved my face, smelling her arousal, and kissed it again. I felt heady with how near she was, that this was turning her on tooâŚ
âItâs so easy to turn you on. And you react so well. You may stop now, sweet little pussy worshiper.â
âThank you, Mistress.âÂ
âTake your panties off.â I sat there, in a kneeling position, naked while she was still clothed. âNow I want you to open your legs, with your knees up.â My face burned as I pulled them off while staying in a sitting position, and hung my head down as I opened my legs. âGood girl. Now, push your labia apart with your fingers. And spread your legs wider, let me see everything.â That made me even more wet, and I could feel my horniness dripping down my ass, between my legs, maybe on the floor. âNow, push up the hood covering your little clitâ It felt so embarrassing and so fucking good to show off my clit to her. âYou have a beautiful pussy. Give me your wet fingers.â I was on my knees, holding my fingers up obediently for her. She took two from my right hand and two from my left into her mouth, and sucked hard, using her tongue to lick them as she sucked and I moaned. I donât know why, but that felt so amazing, as if there was a line connecting my fingertips to my clit, which sizzled with wet arousal. I whimpered as she withdrew.Â
Then we sat there, quietly, with my head leaning on her inner thigh. She nuzzled my head, fluffing my already-wild dark waves. âYou look happy, minx-girl.âÂ
I sighed. I was happy, and even though we hadnât kissed or had sex, I somehow was weirdly satisfied. It was an emotional, almost spiritual satiation, because what we had just done seemed more intimate than just sex. âYes. I fantasized about this, kneeling at your feet.âÂ
âIs that a fetish of yours?â She wound a hand in my hair, tugging it so that I rose.Â
âI - Iâve never done it before. It somehow got into my head, and then I couldnât get back out.âÂ
âIs this the first time youâve played with submission that doesnât lead to sex?â
I nodded. I wanted to do it more, I wondered how more would feel.Â
âDonât fall for me because youâre enjoying this.â
âIâm enjoying this and I want to do this because I fell for you. I know itâs too soon, but itâŚjustâŚhappened. I couldnât help it. Iâm not in love with you, not yet, but I could be one day.â I looked up at her. She was so lovely, in an old-fashioned way, with a strong-featured, clear-eye face that reminded me of Katharine Hepburn or Lauren Bacall. Hers was the type of face that didnât need youth to be attractive. She was full of life, wise, and that combination made her seem ageless. Â
âThat makes sense. I feel the same way.â
âIf - if it didnât work out, I think Iâve learned something about what I want, and you will leave me better off than I was before you.â
âThatâs the best we can hope for, isnât it? But Iâm hoping and thinking it will work out.â
I settled back on my knees again, sighing contentedly. âCome on, little girl. Letâs rehydrate and Iâll leave you for the night. If I donât go now, I might stay over, and itâs too soon.âÂ
I fell asleep, naked, almost as soon as she left. When I woke up in the middle of the night, my half-asleep brain wondered why I was naked. I shifted, and slowly became aware that my ass was a little warmer than usual. It was a reminder of being naked and showing off my soaked pussy for her pleasure. I hadnât minded that I hadnât orgasmed. Could I? I decided not to risk it, instead loving the feeling of being wet and horny, and left aching for more. I rolled over, thinking of how wet and messy I was making my sheets, and deliciously sinful it was to sleep in that messiness.Â
For our next weekend date, we left for an oceanside hike early. It was super-romantic, I thought while yawning and waiting for her to pick me up. When she arrived, she handed me a cappuccino and a pastry. âSo a pretty girl could get an extra 15 minutes of sleep,â she said, smiling. We talked a lot while she drove, about everything and anything. We even talked about Ezra and Rachel.Â
Alright, it was a bit gossip, but it was also us learning about each other and our limits through it. âRachel seems to think itâs fun, like a really scary movie or a roller coaster. She likes that emotional amplification, the way he gets that close to - doing something terrible and sheâs scared and horny and how the fear and arousal feed each other. I guess she must feel safe with him, and trust him, that heâll never do anything to really harm her, maybe?âÂ
âYeah, with CNC, the more real it is, the less consensual, and the less real, the more contrived. So I get going for real, but the sub could feel bad one day, no matter what the intent. Iâm not doing that with you, no matter how much of a bratty minx you feel like being. No matter how much you trust me. It isnât my cup of tea.â
âOh, well, then, what are you going to do to me?â Yesss, I thought, weâre going to have sex. Sheâs planning on fucking me.Â
âAt the moment, driving you to climb some hills and see the ocean. Followed by a late lunch or an early dinner.â I could hear the triumph in her voice in not giving me the answer I was fishing for. I slumped in my seat. âOh, you need it that bad, huh?âÂ
âYes, I do. Iâm going to, like, burst, or something.âÂ
âOh, and what do you propose I do? Take you off trail, tie you up to a tree, and eat you out until you scream? Where anyone could see you naked and hear your moans and screams?â A mental picture of her doing just that, followed by me doing the same for her made me momentarily speechless.Â
âYou donât know if Iâm a screamer. Maybe youâd find out,â I said, sardonically.Â
She laughed. âYou are a very seductive little minx.âÂ
âClearly Iâm not, when Iâm dying here of not getting to eat you out. My seduction isnât working.âÂ
She laughed then opened the windows. âI can smell how horny youâre getting. You must be imagining it, little girl. Imagine being naked and tied up in my bed, begging to eat me out.âÂ
I sighed. She won that round of banter. But you know, I secretly hoped she would. It made me want to give myself over to her all that much more.Â
The breeze fluffed my hair and she glanced over at it, then the rest of me. âAlright. How about, next weekend - we can spend the entire weekend together. Nights too.âÂ
âReally? Yes! What are we going to do?â
âOutside of fuck? Is there anything else you want to do? I mean, weâll eat, sleep, shower, maybe take a walk or something. But I think fucking you silly is what you want, right?âÂ
A flush of hot, wet arousal went through me. âI want to actually suck and lick you out the most.â
âI know. Beg to please me, you said. But youâll have to earn that. Why do you think I need a whole weekend?â She was grinning, pleased at her cleverness.
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