by KB Alan
What next? This was as far as she’d managed to plan. It felt…good, right, but not quite finished. Her look lingered on his cock, half erect as it had been through the whole process, and she knew. Though this hadn’t been about sex, her Master’s pleasure was an integral part of taking care of Harrison as she had so longed to do. She wasn’t actually sure if the rules of the auction prohibited a blow job or not. Since she hadn’t been thinking in that direction, she hadn’t bothered to pay much attention, too busy staring at Eric on stage. Well, she’d have to ask permission even if it was allowed, since this was beyond the scope she’d promised him. If it was against the rules, he’d have to tell her so. And if he wasn’t comfortable with it, she’d figure some other closure to the scene.
She made short work of drying herself, then bent over and towel dried her hair briskly. Finished, she tossed their used towels into the hamper and looked at Eric.
She met his eyes briefly, then dropped her gaze to his chin. “May I pleasure you with my hands or mouth?” If she’d tried to talk it out, tried to explain how giving this stranger the care that she hadn’t been able to give her lover was bringing her the relief of closure, she was sure she’d talk herself out of the feeling. Eric was nothing like Harrison in looks, and she hadn’t given him a chance to act like the Dom he was, so she had no idea if he was like her Master in that way. But already she felt better, like she could now imagine moving on, something that had seemed impossible only hours before. It made no more sense than the oppressive guilt she’d been feeling at not being there for Harrison, when he was the one who’d made that decision. Ordered her to let go and stay away.
When Eric didn’t answer right away, she tried to think of what else she could do to end the scene and still fulfill the need she had to take care of him. She hadn’t gotten very far when he interrupted her thoughts.
“You may.”
Excellent. He hadn’t specified one or the other. She could make this work. Finish this and be done. Move on with her life. A life without her Master, but without the ridiculous guilt that ate at her every day, even though she knew Harrison would be angry with her for feeling it. Well, she was doing what she could to assuage it, to stop feeling it, so he would have to get over himself. She nearly laughed at the idea of Harrison looking down on this scene and judging the success of her mission.
A tanned, vibrantly healthy hand started to reach for her, but she gave a sharp shake of her head and took a step back before she could stop herself. He hesitated, then dropped his arm back to his side. No, this needed to go her way. Sure, there was a part of her, a huge part of her, that wanted to place herself into his care, let him take over. But not only wasn’t it what she needed, it would be unfair to him. To expect him to do it right, when she couldn’t tell him what it was that she needed from him. From this.
Taking his wrist again, knowing full well he would prefer that she take his hand, she led him back to the bedroom and the elegant, high-backed wing chair next to the window. She had him sit down and hook his feet behind the chair legs. She lifted his hands over his head so that they lay along the back of the chair. Comfortable, she hoped, but out of her way, and a subtle reminder to him to let her control the action.
He actually gave a little grunt, but then seemed to settle back into the seat. It was cowardly, but she refused to look up at his face. Instead she pulled out the small pillow that was tucked under the side table and placed it between his feet. She checked the drawer, found an assortment of condoms and decided on cherry. Taking a breath, she dropped her knees to the pillow and focused on his cock. It had lengthened, hardened, since she’d asked for his permission to attend to it.
Leaning forward, she smelled the fresh, clean sent of male skin. The tingle of tears began deep behind her eyes, but she figured she had a little time before they came to the surface and escaped. She didn’t want to traumatize the poor guy by crying on his erection, but it was so good to see a healthy man, reacting naturally, and know she was there to take care of it, of him. Making quick work of the condom, she tossed the wrapper on the table and let herself enjoy the treat.
She darted her tongue out teasingly, a lick here, a taste there, until she felt his thighs tighten around her as if he was going to make a move. Then she simply licked him from bottom to top, bringing one hand up to hold him steady and using the other to cup his balls. Another small grunt was the only reaction from him, but he didn’t move. She repeated the action, her pointed tongue as stiff as she could make it until she reached the head, then she flattened her tongue, swirled it around, before dropping her mouth over him as far as she could reach. And she could reach far. She’d taken a deep breath and simply rested at the base of him, smiling as he twitched and lengthened further inside her unmoving mouth.
Finally, she hollowed her cheeks and slowly moved back up his shaft, her tongue gliding along until it teased the underside of his head. Playing there for a few minutes, she massaged his balls carefully at the same time. The tears were staying back, so she rolled her eyes up and risked a look at Eric. He was watching her attentively, his expression serious and not at all lost in the pleasure she was trying to give him. She couldn’t quite decide if that was a good thing or not, so she moved her gaze down his perfect body.
With his arms up and back, his chest was thrust out, his abs pulled in, his body a display of muscles that she couldn’t deny were achingly attractive. She’d never thought herself particularly superficial, had never dated a guy that she considered gorgeous, but wow. She clenched her thighs against the ache that was developing in her core just from looking at this amazing specimen of man. The truth was, she never in a million years would have had the nerve to approach a guy like this for a real scene, let alone a date.
Bringing her attention more fully back to her task, she figured she might as well get as much enjoyment out of it as she could. After today, she wasn’t sure how long it would be before she’d be willing to risk a relationship with anyone, let alone a Dom. She promised herself a generous session with her credit card and her favorite online toy store when she got home.
She started moving on him rhythmically, her free hand coming to his thigh to brace herself and give her leverage to really move. The hand she used on his balls maintained its slow, steady motion, in contrast to the fast fucking she gave him with her mouth. Then she stopped, lodging him as deeply as she could, resting for just a second before rising slowly and allowing her teeth to graze him just slightly. When she reached the top she suckled hard, then resumed her previous pace. He only lasted another minute before his large hand came down to cup her head and hold her still while he released into the condom.
She was breathing hard, those damn tears sliding along her nose and onto his thigh, but she didn’t mind his hold. It felt right. She’d given him what she could, served him as best she knew how, and it was almost over. She managed to stop the flow of tears and hoped he’d think the wetness was from her hair, strands of which draped across his thighs. She remained still, content to let him choose when to let her up.
It took a few minutes, but finally the hand holding her head slid off and she slowly released him from her mouth. She leaned back onto her heels and licked her lips before looking up at him. His face wasn’t quite so serious now, she was pleased to see. Before that could change, she jumped up, slid the condom free and went into the bathroom. When she returned, he’d folded both arms across his chest and his feet were flat on the floor, the little pillow kicked to the side. But he was still sitting. She used a warm, wet wash cloth to clean him, then a hand towel to pat him dry.
She glanced at the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes left of their two hours. Close enough. Since he didn’t have any clothes other than the sub harness, as far as she knew, she didn’t figure she needed to redress him. Keeping her head lowered, she quickly worked her dress over her head and adjusted it until it lay correctly. She picked up her shoes and gave him a deferential nod.
“Thank you, Sir.”
S
he turned and crossed to the door, letting the tears free.
* * *
Eric waited until she had the door all the way open before he called out to her.
“Stop.”
She did, one hand on the door, the other holding her shoes against the door jamb. She didn’t turn around, but she didn’t step forward either.
He moved up behind her, close enough for her to feel, but not quite touching her.
“We still have thirteen minutes.”
Her head jerked to the side, an almost, but not quite, negative.
He closed the tiny distance between them, his arm going around her waist, pulling her back against him. He tried to see her face around the wet strands of her hair. Her eyes were closed but tears slid freely down her cheek. Fuck this. He picked her up, ignoring the little squeak she made, and returned to the chair. He much preferred a big lounge chair to this fancy one, but he’d make do. It took a little effort to tuck her up against him so that they were both comfortable within the leather embrace, but she didn’t fight him. She rested her head against his chest, and let loose. No longer silent tears, she sobbed against him wetly. He stroked her hair away from her face and leaned his head back to wait her out.
It didn’t take long for her breathing to slow down and her sobs to ratchet down to sniffles. He snagged the hand towel she’d left on the side table and brought it to her face, growling at her when she moved to take the towel herself. She acquiesced and he blotted the tears from her face before putting the cloth to her nose.
“Blow.”
She glared at him for all of half a second before giving in.
He debated his options, made his decision. Rising with her in his arms, he strode back to the bathroom and set her in front of the divan. “Dress off.” This time she tried a scowl, but he turned away before seeing how long she’d last, worried he wouldn’t be able to hold back his smile.
The jetted tub was easy to work and filled fast. By the time he’d selected an almond scented bubble bath and poured a liberal amount in, the tub was half filled. When he turned, the dress was off, her scowl had morphed to an uncertain frown, and her arms were crossed over her stomach. He knew modesty wasn’t her issue, and actually would have been easier to deal with than whatever it was that she was still holding in.
He wasn’t entirely sure she’d let him pick her back up and put her in the tub, so he held his hand out to her instead. She stared at it for a good minute before sighing and taking it. He helped her step in, then got in behind her and nudged her down between his legs until they were lying with her back resting against his front.
“Can you tell me what this was all about?” he asked gently.
“You agreed to let me be in charge,” she reminded him.
“Your two hours are up now.” His lips quirked, but he was pretty sure he managed to keep the amusement from his voice.
“We haven’t negotiated a scene. I haven’t agreed to obey you.” She almost sounded belligerent, but it edged more towards tired and his smile faded away.
“True.” The water was high enough, so he stretched for the controls, turned the taps off and the jets on. Then he ran his hands through the hot water and up her uncovered arms. “Can you tell me what this was all about?” he repeated.
She sighed, let her head rest back against his shoulder. “I needed to say goodbye to someone. In a way I wasn’t able to before he…died. I…I’m sorry if you feel used. That wasn’t my intention.”
“Not in a negative way,” he assured her. He continued to move the hot water up her arms, pushed a small wave to where her breasts rose above the water.
“We’re going to be very clean tonight,” she observed.
He laughed. “I guess we are. There are worse things to be.”
Her eyes had closed and her hands had floated to the top of the water, tangling slightly with his.
“Eric.”
He waited patiently and was rewarded after three full minutes when she continued. “I was in love with my Master for a long time. Years. He died last month.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She nodded her head. “It was…difficult. He was sick for a while.”
Something in the way she said it let him know there was more. He stayed quiet, continued to move the water around them, let his arms tangle with hers, then separate.
Finally she sighed. “I was in love with him, for sure, about six months after he became my Master.” Her voice was a little shaky and her arms moved back to wrap around her stomach. “At some point, I guess I wanted…needed more than he could give. But I loved him, so I didn’t leave. And then, slowly, I stopped loving him. I’m not sure he ever loved me. No, that’s not right. He loved me, in his way, but I don’t think he was ever in love with me. It took me a while to decide it wasn’t enough, and start to think about looking for more.”
“Was it a club only relationship?”
“Basically, without the club, though. We played at his house or play parties. He didn’t want a partner, a girlfriend. Only a sub.”
“And you needed more.”
“Yes. I came to. It wasn’t his fault, I knew from the beginning what he was looking for. And it worked for me, for a long time. I didn’t want a 24/7 Ds thing. He’d been in one and it had gone badly, so he was very wary of any kind of relationship outside of a scene.”
“There’s a lot of ground between scene-only and 24/7 slave.”
She was quiet for a while before responding, “Yeah, there is.”
“And that’s what you started to want?”
“Yes, but I wasn’t sure how I wanted to go about it. Everyone I knew in the scene, I knew through him. I didn’t really want to start dating anyone else, or doing scenes with anyone else, but I realized I had to leave him so that I could get to the place where I’d be willing to look at someone else.” She rolled her head against his shoulder. “I’m not sure any of that makes sense. I hadn’t really sat down and figured it all out yet. Clarified it in my own head, you know? Because he got sick before I could decide what I wanted to do.”
“And it was too late.”
“Not just that, but he was sick, and his family came, and I…I wasn’t needed. He didn’t want me to help. Wouldn’t let me take care of him. Which made sense for the relationship we had.”
Ahh. “But not for the one you’d come to want.” He crossed his arms over her torso and finally let his hands come to rest, one on each of her shoulders. Her breasts were squished underneath his arms, her arms trapped under his elbows.
The sniffles started again and she turned her head so she was facing away from him. “He was a good man, a good Dom. We had amazing scenes. He never shirked the after care, never pushed me too far, but never let me rest on my limits. He always took care of me. He…he was a good Dom.”
“He didn’t want a service sub.”
“I didn’t want to be a service sub.” A hint of anger. “I just wanted to take care of him sometimes. See to his needs beyond a blow job. I know it’s silly. I know I made him happy, gave him what he needed. That should have been enough for me.”
“We all have different needs. It’s unfair to expect one side’s needs to be met and not the other.”
“I loved him.”
He squeezed her tight. “I know you did.”
They sat there until the jets ran through their cycle and shut off. He helped her stand, and she stood quietly while he dried her off, then he returned the favor. This time, when she moved the cloth over him, his dick refused to listen to the message that now was not the time to get excited. When she was done, she looked at it, then up at him. The heat in her eyes was as unmistakable as the sorrow he’d seen earlier.
He led her into the bedroom, thinking.
“When did he get sick?” he asked, with a dawning realization.
“Almost a year ago.”
When she’d said her lover had died a month ago he’d assumed…well, he shouldn’t have assumed anything, but now he wo
ndered if she was closer to letting go than he’d thought. Though she’d loved her Dom, she hadn’t been in love with him for years and hadn’t been sexually active with him for nearly a year.
“I’m honestly not sure what’s best for you right now,” he admitted.
Her eyes widened in astonishment and he laughed.
“You should probably go home. But I’d like to see you again. When you’re ready. Both inside the club, and outside.” He wanted to see where this might go.
She blushed, then nodded. “Okay.” She looked down until he was pretty sure she was staring at his cock. Then she brought her right hand to her mound and slid a finger through her slit.
“Shit,” he muttered. Then he cleared his throat. “Stop that.”
A smile teased her lips. “We aren’t doing a scene. We haven’t negotiated anything, I haven’t promised to obey you.” Her finger moved up to tease her clit, then slid back into her wetness.
“You’re staring at my naked dick.”
“Well, you could put it away if you didn’t want me to do that.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and worked hard to glare at her. Which she didn’t notice, since she wasn’t looking anywhere near his face. “Bondage?” he asked.
Her finger stopped moving and she closed her eyes. “Yes, please.” He had to strain to hear the whisper .
“Do you need pain play?” Somehow his hand had made its way to his cock and he was stroking it.
“No, Sir. I don’t mind some, but I don’t need it.”
He swallowed, tried to keep focused. “Anal?”
She shivered. “That’s fine.”
“Anything you need from a scene?”
“No, sir. Just you. Just your orders. And your touch.” Her hand stopped, then dropped to her side. She looked up at him, hesitated. Then gave in.
He could see it, though she didn’t drop to her knees or offer her wrists or anything like that. But her body relaxed as she gave her submission to him. He was pretty sure she’d been near subspace a few times during their scene together as she’d sunk into the rhythm and routine of taking care of him. It was why he’d let her continue when he’d had to fight his other instincts, the ones that said take charge of the scene, demand information from her until he could give her what she’d needed. The fact that she’d clearly been getting something from the experience, something she’d seemed to need very badly, had stayed him. And made him intensely curious about what it would be like to play with her the way he normally would.