“Let’s go to this little club I know after this. They play live music most nights. We can do some more dancing.”
“That’s wooing?”
“Yes, Clarisse,” he sighed. “Wooing is showing someone all the good sides of yourself you want them to admire and respect, hoping they’ll be attracted to you.”
“You’re trying to tell me you’re not attracted to me now?” I asked, knowing full well he was.
“Clarisse, if we’re going to have any kind of relationship, it has to be about more than kinky sex and your professional services. Shouldn’t we at least find out if we’re really compatible on every level or at least most of them?”
“Huh. When you put it that way, this all does seem a little weird now.” I hadn’t been thinking of this as an actual relationship between two people. Why would I? We’d just met. I was trying to negotiate a Dom/sub thing without thinking about all the facets of it. “Well, hell. Here’s your first lesson about me then. Sometimes, I tend to leap before I look. Another very good reason for me to have a Dominant who can keep me on a tether and out of trouble.”
“I understand. Now let’s settle the bill and go relax. We can get to the other fun stuff after we’ve enjoyed some good music and a few drinks.”
Muttering to myself about wasting time, I waited for the server to bring us our check so we could get on with the evening.
If I had to admit it, I was stalling. Although I wanted to think it was my newfound sense of self-preservation kicking in and preventing me from rushing headlong into something with the potential for a lasting impact, that wasn’t it. I’d been dying to sleep with Clarisse almost since the moment I met her. The issue now was I didn’t only want to sleep with her. I liked her and wanted her to like me for more than just some guy she thought could fulfill her fantasy of having a Dom. I didn’t even know if I could be a Dom to her, she was so opinionated and decisive, but the last thing I wanted to do was disappoint her. I somehow needed to buy time to figure out how I was going to make this whole endeavor work. It was easy enough to make up the bossy, arrogant men who made women of all ages devour my books. My female characters had no choice but to like them since I was the one bringing them to life. Putting it into practice in the real world, well, I wasn’t so convinced that was what women really wanted. Other than Nicole and Annie, no one had ever asked me to do such a thing, and even then, it was still nothing more than fantasyland.
I took Clarisse to a club that was little better than a dive bar. While Santa Fe wasn’t exactly the hub of new music, there were several bands who played there that were pretty good. From country music to good ol’ rock-and-roll, there was something to keep your toes tapping. Clarisse and I had turned up the heat so high the last time we danced, I thought it was the perfect kind of foreplay I needed to direct our energy where I needed it to go. I didn’t want to jump right into the kink. I wanted time to get to know her mind and her body, but I’d learn more of her mind over the coming weeks and months. She’d made it pretty clear that tonight I had limited time, so I wanted to just take the evening to explore her, to find the things that made her gasp, the things that made her moan, and most especially made her scream in ecstasy. I thought it was a perfectly logical idea. How could I make any magic happen with a riding crop if I didn’t know just the right place to strike? Cold trial and error didn’t sound like a good time to me.
The club wasn’t very crowded when we arrived, so we easily snagged a booth and ordered our drinks. Once we’d had a few sips, I thought I’d better spill the beans on my thoughts before the music started and got too loud for us to hear each other.
“So,” I began quietly after taking a gulp of my beer. “I want to talk to you about this whole voyage we’re about to undertake. Specifically, tonight.”
Her face brightened significantly, and she leaned in, ready to hear whatever I had to say. I wasn’t sure how long that was going to last after I burst her BDSM bubble.
“I’m all ears. What do you have in mind?”
“As you know, I don’t think we should jump into anything too grand or complicated. We’re both complete newbies. We really don’t know what we’re doing. Besides, I’m not sure what you’re more interested in, having a Dominant to serve or kinky sex. What little I do know they don’t necessarily go hand-in-hand.”
“I want it all, Wyatt. I told you, the whole shebang.”
“In that case, I think we need to start from a point we’re both familiar with. Nights out like
this, getting to know each other and building intimacy between us is essential.”
“Wait a minute,” she said, holding up her hand.
“No, you wait a minute. You want me to be your Dominant? Well, let’s start right here and now. We’re doing this my way. I’m not ready to jump into anything with you until we both have a clear understanding of each other, in addition to our physical wants and needs. Now drink your drink and try to have a good time. We’ll get out on the dance floor and just enjoy the evening. Do you think you can manage that?”
Her eyes grew wide as I took charge of the situation. I could see it was on the tip of her tongue to object, to fight with me, but she finally nodded slowly and took another sip of her Manhattan. Maybe she was cut out for having someone run the show for her after all. The question was whether I was up to the task. I had to admit it was kind of nice to lay down the law in the moment, daring her to argue with me. Her silent acquiescence was both reassuring and disappointing. I liked mouthy Clarisse.
After the band set up and began to play, I suggested we dance. Her face went blank, and she gave me a pleading look like she wanted to do anything but. I was baffled since we’d had such a time of it at the New Year’s Eve party.
“What’s wrong, Clarisse?” I asked, taking her hand in mine across the table.
“Wyatt, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m a really shitty dancer.’
“What do you mean? We burned it up in Las Vegas,” I replied, completely stunned she
felt she wasn’t good.
“You did all the work. All I did was hold on to you. I was like your little puppet for the time we were on the dance floor.”
A slow smile spread across my face as her words sank in. This was exactly the kind of knowledge I needed to learn her boundaries and how to push them. She was going to dance in spite of her fears.
“I like the sound of you being my puppet. Here’s our first exercise in dominance and submission. I’m going to make you dance, just like I did at the party. If that means you just go along for the ride, then that’s what you do.” I stood and held out my hand. “Come on, little one. Lesson One awaits.”
To my surprise, she shyly put her hand in mind, lowering her chin. It wasn’t feigned submission like she’d tried to pull at the pub in front of Patrick, she was obviously putting her well-being in my hands—she had a real fear of humiliating herself in public—but was willing to trust me to take care of her. That gave me a rush I wasn’t expecting. I pulled her under my arm and led her to the small dance floor in front of the stage.
Thankfully, the tune playing was well arranged for the sexy grind I did with her before. I didn’t hitch her up on my leg this time as she’d expected, so she stiffened in my arms.
“Trust me,” I breathed into her ear before wrapping my arms around her, encouraging
her to sway with me. I kissed her neck softly, trailing my lips along the vein pulsing wildly in her neck. “It’s going to be fine, just relax and let me do everything.”
I felt her melt against my chest, and slowly began to swivel her around, slightly out of time with the music for a minute before picking up speed and rocking her back and forth. Once she felt good and relaxed in my arms, I attempted a few more complicated maneuvers. I wrapped an arm around her back, taking hold of her hand, and spun her out before pulling her right back into the safety of my arms. She’d moved without hesitation, without worry I was putting her on the spot. I’d just taken control of her body,
and she followed faithfully. I was so proud of her, I rained little kisses all over her face.
“See,” I whispered into her ear. “All you have to do is relax and trust me. I’m not going to let you fall, Clarisse, literally or figuratively.”
She nodded softly, a faint smile playing on her lips while her eyes were wide and shimmering. She looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen, and that was saying something. There was a vulnerability there, one I was sure she rarely showed anyone if she ever did at all. It was attractive, yet fascinating at the same time.
We danced for hours, both of us getting drunk on the newfound aspect of our already heady chemistry. She became virtual putty in my hands, letting me take control of her body while I experimented with new ways to make her move. I started to feel a growing sense of confidence that maybe I could be what she wanted, at least in some way.
We stopped to have another drink, her joining me on the same side, rather than sitting across from each other as we had before. She showered me with kisses and affectionate caressing of my arm and thigh. Finally, I was beginning to feel that stirring of interest, that connection we’d lacked when we’d spoken of sex in the abstract. She was hitting the buttons I needed pushed. I’d only had two beers, so I couldn’t blame the alcohol for the drunkenness I was feeling. My intoxication was one hundred percent Clarisse Flores at work.
As I sat lost in my contemplation, she finally whispered in my ear, her hand snaking around the back of my neck to pull me close.
“Let’s go home, Wyatt. I think we’ve done enough warming up, don’t you?”
“I couldn’t agree more,” I said as I pulled her hand free and kissed the back of it.
* * *
As soon as we’d gotten into my car, Clarisse was purring like a kitten, her hand wandering over my mine as I shifted gears, leaning in to nip and suck on my earlobe. She had me shivering with excitement and anticipation all the way home. Any awkwardness I’d felt gave way to the wanton little woman at my side.
When we crossed the threshold of my front door, she jumped up on me and wrapped her legs around my waist, devastating me with a kiss even more seductive than the one I’d given her on New Year’s Eve. I carried her back to my bedroom, brushed the bag of goodies we’d left sitting on my mattress to the floor and tossed her down. She landed with a little bounce, giggling as she instantly struggled out of her shirt. For my part, I was already pulling my own shirt off as soon as she’d left my arms.
I launched myself at her, the roughness of the lace cups of her bra scratching slightly against my chest. I quickly pulled a strap down and gazed at the full, perfect globe that was her breast. I reverently dropped a kiss onto the blushing pink nipple before flicking it with my tongue. She moaned softly, tangling her fingers into my short, dark hair. I plumped it higher with one hand, squeezing gently as I drew her further into my mouth. The flavor of her skin was like the sweetest honey I’d ever tasted. It made me hungry for more, so I wasted no time, reaching around and deftly unhooking her bra with one hand.
Casting off the offending lingerie, she laid back, her arms posed delightfully over her head, completely open, welcoming me to avail myself of her fantastic curves. I wasn’t one to pass up the opportunity to feast indulgently in her beauty, so I quickly flicked the button on her jeans, opening them and slipping my hand inside. The silk of her panties was already soaked, making me impatient to set my eyes on the rest of her.
Standing, I slipped off her boots, then slowly dragged the tight material down and off her legs. Her underwear was a scrap of scarlet, begging to be torn from her body. Though I often wrote about men ripping women’s underwear off in a fit of passion, I thought that was probably harder to do than it seemed. Not wanting to cause her any discomfort, I hooked my thumbs under the thin straps on her hips and pulled them down, too. My breath caught in my throat as I looked at her neatly groomed landing strip. I was pleased to see it—I’d never been a fan of the bald look. I wanted a woman to look like a woman, not a twelve-year-old girl who hadn’t reached puberty. I knew I was in the minority, but this kind of grooming was terrifically sensual and seductive to me.
I must have taken too long admiring Clarisse’s body for her taste because before I knew it, she was off the bed and on her knees in front of me. She tore at the front of my pants, popping the button and sliding the zipper at a dizzying rate. While completely enthusiastic about what she seemed to have in mind, it faintly occurred to me that she was wresting control of the situation which was the exact opposite of what she claimed to want. That said, I wasn’t about to dial down her enthusiasm or the momentum carrying us away. What harm would it be to indulge her, especially if it was in the name of my pleasure?
Her eyes grew large as she reached into my briefs and took me in her hand, then wider still when she pulled my cock out. She licked her lips unconsciously as her eyes traveled over the thick, hard length of my shaft, her hand leisurely stroking and caressing me. I wasn’t one to brag, but I never had anything to be self-conscious about in the size department. Judging by Clarisse’s expression, this occasion was no different.
Attempting to make at least a minimal effort to seem like I was still in control, I stroked my hand over her hair, then gently guided her forward, letting her know she was perfectly welcome, encouraged even, to put her mouth on me. She smiled up at me mischievously, opening her mouth wide and swirling her tongue over the dark, pulsing head. I groaned loudly, the sensation of her hot, wet tongue sending a current of white fire zipping through my entire lower half. Eager for more, I pressed harder on her head, desperate to feel her mouth engulfing the entirety of my length. She shook her head, that impish look still present in her eyes, resisting the push of my hand. Instead, she took several long licks along the underside of my dick, making me shiver. She gave me no choice but to stand back and let her do things her way. I shouldn’t have been surprised.
Finally, she slowly wrapped her lips around me and slid halfway down before gliding back up again. She used her hand to work the rest of my cock—gripping, squeezing, and pumping it in time with her mouth. It was glorious. So much so, I staggered before she guided me to sit on the foot of the bed.
I rested back on my hands and let her do her thing. Again, I told myself it was cock worship, all good subs worshiped their master’s goods, right? Who was I to stop her? It wasn’t until she had me ready to erupt that I smoothly guided her mouth from my crotch and pulled her to standing. I was going to return the favor, considering it a reward for her serving me well, but she pushed me to my back and climbed onto my thighs.
“Are you ready?” she whispered huskily, a teasing smile on her lips. “I’m going to give you an experience like never before, I promise you.”
Before I could even answer, she’d guided me straight toward her center, then dropped down swiftly. It was a shock, like being doused with cold water, but entirely opposite. I was engulfed with her velvety heat, surrounded snugly by the slippery walls gripping me tightly. I jolted at the overwhelming sensation but was overjoyed by it. I lightly took hold of her hips with my hands, which she instantly moved to her breasts. I kneaded and massaged them as she rode me slowly at first, picking up the pace until she was roughly bouncing on me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. Even in my teen years, I had never been so close to coming so quickly. I panted, trying my best to hold off, stilling my hips which had been working up and down against her when she abruptly jumped off me.
“Not so fast, baby. We’ve got a long night ahead of us,” she purred, moving further up the bed, then patting the spot next to her so I’d join her. I scurried to follow, laying on my side. Finally, I’d get my chance to taste a little bit of her heaven… or so I thought. I slid my hand along her curves, pausing just above the cleft of her pouty, swollen lips, then dipped a finger into her slit. I rubbed back and forth over her clit, once, twice, ready to go deeper, but she pulled my hand away again and slid my fingers into her mouth, sucking and licking them greedily. I abandoned any
intent I had to take command, instead turning myself over to her to do as she wished.
She sat up and loomed over me, her eyes glittering with hunger before running her tongue all over my chest. She worked her way lower, her tongue doing delightful things that made my nerves go even more haywire. Then she finally took me in her mouth again, simply sucking on the tumescent, rigid length. It was then I realized she intended to edge me. By that point, I no longer had any conscious awareness that things were not going the way they were supposed to, at least not for the purposes of the relationship we’d intended to try. All I was interested in was enjoying the moment, living for the next flick of her tongue or twist of her wrist.
I don’t think I’d ever been hungrier for a man than I was for Wyatt. I loved sex, always had, but he turned me into a ravenous beast intent on devouring him. It was so hard to know where to begin, so I just let myself go and did whatever came naturally to me. I was determined to touch, feel, taste every inch of him.
He’d looked surprised but happy when I pushed him down and just climbed astride him. It fueled my desire and determination to leave an indelible imprint in his mind. I didn’t realize I’d abandoned any semblance of being submissive to him. I was past rational thought. I meant to keep him dancing on that sharp edge between agony and ecstasy, drawing out every sensation from him that I could.
Again, I felt him grow and swell in my mouth, a sure signal that he was fighting his climax. I wasn’t ready for it to be over, to let him take that final leap into the ultimate pleasure, so I quickly released him from my lips. I crawled up next to him, remaining on all fours at his side.
“Now, Wyatt. Take me from behind. I want to feel you hit the deepest parts of me.”
He didn’t miss a beat. He was on his knees, taking his place as he reached around my hip and stroked my clit. I shivered with the first real intimate touch I’d allowed him to give me. He stroked my bottom as he guided his thick cock to my waiting entrance, then smoothly slid right in. I was so, so ready to take him, to grab that brass ring I knew was waiting for me.
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