She laid down stretching her arms out above her head as she leaned back into the feather bed. She loved her lovely four poster bed it was both beautiful and soft. She closed her eyes and thought deeply about the man she wanted as her lover, he had captured her imagination and now she could not forget him especially as she lay in her bed alone. Soon she was asleep and as she turned onto her back, she heard a sound it was his voice. He whispered "I am here my sweet and now no questions (touching her lips with his finger,) just relax and let me do what I want with your beautiful body." It was him he was there.
The excitement she felt rushed over her as her passion grew and with each gentle touch. She knew she would never be the same again... She watched his eyes, as his face gave no hint about what would come next. She wanted him and knew that he would not hurt her. Though they had not discussed being intimate there was a passion felt by both as they interacted. He was the man she watched weilding power in the office and she was excited by the thoughts of him being in control of her.
He came next to her and told her, "before you see everything you have to know what it is to see to see nothing" and with that he put a blindfold over her eyes. He told her "before I give you any freedom to do as you please, you need to know what it is to be bound and to be bound to me." Her heart began to race with her anticipation growing. He began to tie her to her bed with silk scarves he found in her drawer and told her don't struggle, be a good girl....With that command she held still and waited for him.
He leaned over and kissed her passionately and she knew this was the moment she'd been waiting for. She had been flirting with him for a long time but he never asked her to go out or be with him in any way before. All this time she had dreamed of being his in her bed and here he was standing so close. She couldn't see him or feel him but his cologne lingered in the air and the scent of it was intoxicating to her. Her senses seemed alive as they never had been before. She knew there would never be another first time with him, that she needed to remember everything about this moment of her life. She knew she would never feel the same way about being in contol again.
She wondered where he was in the room and as he moved around tying the scarves to the bed she would feel him caress her face, hands, and then her feet. He spread her feet and hands tied them to the bed. He slowly ran his hands along her inner thighs and then slowly removed them from her body as he got close to her passion zone. She had no fear because she trusted him. She knew he was the one she wanted to have this experience with. He was confident and almost arrogant about his ability to please her and though he had that aire about him somehow she felt he cared about her and her safety.
Then she felt his hands on her arms running his fingertips on her as he moved his hands down her body stopping to kiss her lips and whispering "now I am making you mine." She smiled and then her face was blank. What was about to happen she wondered? His hands moved on down to her rounded breasts and as if he knew her mind. He began to suck on her breasts and pinch, and bite her nipples as she squirmed on the bed. In his deepest voice he said, "I told you not to move." She laid still and his hands continued down her body where he found the nectar, knowing it was his, he certainly started the flow. Lifting her ass up a little and pulling her toward him he began tasting her. He started by licking the outer creases encircling her clit. He watched her face as he had from the minute he started. She began to moan and squirm again but this time the bindings tightened slightly. She was excited and wanting him more than ever before.
She waited to know what would be next would it be a toy? Would he lick her to an orgasm? Would he insert his hardness and allow her to know how it felt to be fucked by the man who owned her mind and body? A free woman but entangled in a thoughts of being his sex slave and giving herself to him. Was she submissive? In this moment all she wanted was to be HIS! He climbed between her legs and teased her clit with his cock and her moans filled the silence. He said tonight is not the night you'll have this inside your beautiful pussy, instead you will service my needs using those sexy full lips. With that he moved closer to her and put the dick into her lips. Fucking her mouth deeply as he held her head. He began to realize how much it turned her on and that she was moaning along with him. Exploding all over her lips and face...She smiled and he began to untie her... He whispered, "This is the beginning of your training." She thanked him as she watched him get dressed... Her submission had begun...
The End.
The Velvet Glove
I'd been seeing Carla for almost three years. It was a fading romance, with the emphasis on fading, rather than romance. A year of separate colleges hadn't done anything to pull us back together after the fading started in our last year of high school. I'd looked forward to the Memorial Day holiday as we'd both be home and maybe things would be better. In hindsight, looking forward to spending time with Carla and rejuvenating our relationship was optimistic of me.
We'd gone out for a reunion dinner on the Friday night and while it was pleasant, the spark still wasn't there and I didn't even try to prolong the evening by inviting her to visit to my bedroom. We'd made a tentative arrangement to meet up Sunday and planned to spend Saturday with our families. it was hard to figure what had gone wrong as we still liked each other and cared about each other, but the excitement that keeps a young relationship fired up was absent with no recent sightings. It seemed like all we needed for one of us to be brave enough to stop the agony.
I didn't rush over to Carla's house early Sunday. There seemed little point and I didn't know what we were going to do anyway. Her car was there when I pulled into the driveway just after lunch, so I expected her to be at home but I think that if no one had answered the door I would have been relieved. There was movement inside though and Kristi, Carla's older sister, opened the door, held back their golden retriever and let me in.
"She's not here." Kristi hugged me. It had been a few months since I'd seen her. "They all went out to look at a house dad is thinking of buying up by the lake. She didn't say you were coming around."
I screwed up my nose and tried not to show either relief or disappointment. "It's okay, we didn't have a firm plan."
Kristi walked through to the kitchen, obviously expecting me to follow. "Well, come in. Least you can do is have some coffee."
She had long flowing brown hair that ran down her back and a muscular body that made her clothes bulge without looking like any of it was fat. Kristi was on a softball scholarship, had played at state level in high school and while she'd always looked great, she was the family jock. Her jeans always seemed to be tighter than medically recommended and it took all of her sports bra's strength to keep her figure under control. I liked Kristi, despite the high school rumors, as she'd always been fun to be with and seemed to be a genuine person.
I sat at the counter while she bustled around fixing coffee for us. I laughed at her jokes about no longer knowing where things were in her own house and enjoyed the bright smile she always seemed to have on her face.
"So,' she finally started pouring, "what's new with you? Will I be getting a wedding invite soon? Carla's been very coy lately."
I gave a half-laugh and answered, "I don't think you need to worry about buying a new dress right now." Again, I tried not to give a facial expression that could be misinterpreted but Kristi didn't need the visual cue.
She looked at me for a few seconds and simply said. "I wondered." Kristi sighed knowingly and pushed my cup over to me. "Well, stuff happens."
She left the topic of Carla and me at that point and asked me all about my first year at college. I enjoyed sharing the ups and downs of a freshman with her. She'd become more academic that year, matter-of-factly noting that she'd finally acknowledged that a degree would be more help to her after college than winning a few more softball games. It seemed that she'd grown up without me noticing until then.
The phone rang and she excused herself, taking the call in the lounge rather than in front of me. When she came back she announced that the
call was from her mother and that the real estate agent had let them down and couldn't show the house until five that afternoon, so they would be staying up there for dinner. "Apparently there's some leftover pasta in the refrigerator that I can have." She mimicked her mother's voice, rolling her eyes to show a mixture of mirth and contempt.
"You want to get a pizza?" I made the offer. I'd planned on having dinner with Carla and wouldn't be expected home.
"Sure." Kristi didn't pause to consider the offer and grabbed her car keys. "I'll pick up the pieces for my sister... who's obviously stood you up." She playfully punched the top of my arm.
"I don't need charity," I joked.
Kristi stopped and looked back at me, letting her eyes appraise me from head to toe. "Yes you do," she said, then turned and led the way out.
On the drive into town we decided on Chinese instead of pizza and when we were settled in the restaurant and had ordered Kristi offered, "You don't have to talk to me about you and Carla, but you can if you want."
I thought about the offer and declined. I'd got to the point that it seemed pointless and more pain to continue than end. We veered off into small-town small-talk through appetizers and by the time our entrees arrived Kristi was reminiscing about her high school days.
As she started to tall me anecdotes about old boyfriends I felt a tightening knot in my belly. I'd known about the rumors for years, been intrigued and excited by them and wondered now if I could ask her how true they were. I might never get a better chance and, as I watched her face as she told me about a disastrous date that ended up with her walking ten miles to get home and figured, I had nothing to loose.
"People still talked about you at high school, long after you'd left," I ventured.
Kristi's face took a slightly puzzled look and she assumed I was talking about her athletic abilities. "You mean how I lost the state finals because I dropped that catch?"
"No." I spoke solemnly, knowing I'd committed to the question now.
"What then?" she appealed, completely open and not obviously hiding any skeletons.
I took a deep breath and felt the tingle of anticipation as I steeled myself. After another look into Kristi's eyes, just to be sure I wanted to open the box, I told her, "Something about gloves? Silk Gloves?"
Her face ran through four emotions in about two seconds—shock, fun, confusion and trepidation. She settled on an uncomfortable smile. "I should've figured they'd talk about that." The giggle she made was all nerves.
I hadn't meant to put her so ill at ease, and tried to retreat. "It's okay, you don't need to say anything if you don't want to."
"It's okay," she shrugged. "It's not like it's a huge deal. Well, not for me anyway."
I waited, not knowing what else I could say. Kristi took along drink of her soda before she came clean.
"Firstly, it wasn't gloves, it was glove." She smiled and took another deep breath. "Secondly it was velvet, not silk."
So, there it was. The rumor was technically incorrect, but substantiated. My heart was pounding. Kristi was reputed to have given many boys at school handjobs while wearing her velvet glove. I'd heard various estimates of between thirty and a hundred boys. Because of my association with Carla I'd been asked many times if the stories were true and while I'd dismissed the enquiries, I'd also been interested to know the truth, and why.
Now I was silenced by her admission.
"What did they say I did with it?" It was a forlorn request, almost like she held some hope that her use of the glove hadn't carried with the fact that it existed.
"That you..." I stumbled over the words, "masturbated them."
Her face took on a resigned look and Kristi asked about the extent of the rumor. I assured her it had almost died by the time I'd left school. I felt bad having brought the topic up and now I wanted to quash it... but I also wanted know more.
"So..." I ventured, "can I ask why? What was the whole glove thing about?"
Kristi shook her head and sighed. "It was just me being rebellious, kind of, I think. I'd always been fascinated by... penises. It was a little girl thing really. I wanted to hold them and play with them, but I didn't want to have sex with a load of boys. No, it doesn't make any sense to me now, but back then I had this idea that if I wore a glove and avoided skin contact, it somehow removed me from the sexual act that I performed for them so that they'd let me hold their... dicks."
I tried to make sense of the logic and failed. Kristi saw that and added. "After that it just became kind of a quest, to jack off boys, all with the same glove. It wasn't the smartest thing I ever did, but the glove kind of normalized it for me and I have to say... it was fun and exciting at the time. I didn't have many complaints from the... subjects."
"And you just... did them? When they asked you?"
"Some did," she considered. "I asked others. Some we just kind of arrived at the situation mutually. I discovered that boys were pretty easy to get out of their pants."
I was feeling braver now that she'd been so open. "I heard that you... did one boy in class."
Kristi laughed. "That's definitely not true. I had a few trips into the boys' washrooms, but never in a class. Mostly I'd go to their bedrooms, or in their cars. There wasn't a lot of planning involved. I stopped when it started to get out of..." she laughed, "hand. It seemed like the secret just got out and everyone knew. It was hard to live down for a year, but that was my own stupid fault."
"I'm sure there are girls who've dome worse." I tried to sympathize.
"Oh yes," she agreed. "But I seem to still be living it down... if people are still asking me about it."
I still felt a little guilty for having brought the subject up, but at the same time I'd enjoyed the discussion and was feeling aroused at the images Kristi relayed. "I'm sorry," I grimaced, "I didn't mean to..."
"It's okay," she assured me. "Like I said, it's my own stupid fault."
"I still have the glove somewhere." She spoke with vague expression now. "Don't know why I never threw it away. I guess it just kind of held... a lot of memories."
We dropped the subject at that, probably both a little relieved. I admired Kristi for being so honest about the glove. It would have been easy enough to deny, but she was open enough to quell my curiosity on the rumors. The exchange was exciting for sure, thinking about those guys getting off for her, but I decided that enough was enough and we headed back to her parents' house talking about TV shows.
When we pulled into the driveway I began to thank Kristi for her company but before I'd got a chance to say anything she motioned that I should follow her inside. She said nothing as I walked into the kitchen and she disappeared upstairs. "Get a couple of beers out will you?" she called.
I'd found the beer and was pulling the bottles open when she came back. Her face wore the biggest smirk I'd ever seen. "Here," she handed me a small black object, "I thought you might like to see the legendary glove."
I pulled open the velvet material to reveal a plain glove that looked barely big enough to cover Kristi's hand. I turned it over a few times, as though examining an ancient artifact. It was in remarkably good shape considering the action it had seen. I said as much to Kristi, accompanied by nervous laughter.
"I washed it... between assignments." She laughed and took the glove back from me. "Yes, I guess it occasionally did get pretty messed up. Ah... the stories this glove could tell." She pulled the glove on, made a few quick stroking movements with her clenched fist and giggled. "I'm surprised it doesn't have holes all over, from the wear and tear. I kept a list somewhere, of all their names, but that's long gone now. Probably just as well, protect the guilty."
Kristi pulled off the glove and stuffed it in her pocket. She reached out for the beer I'd opened for her and took a relieved mouthful straight from the neck.
"At least it didn't leave any lasting psychological damage," I observed, trying to lighten the air.
"No. But I got to hold a whole lot of cocks. That sure was fun."
<
br /> "I think it's hot." I tried to sound casual but heard the strain in my voice.
Kristi puzzled. "Hot that I did that, or the thought of having that done is hot?"
"Both I guess." The atmosphere had changed suddenly. We were no longer making light of things. This felt more like testing the temperature of the water between us.
"You mean that..." Kristi considered her words, her eyes not leaving mine now, "you would've liked to have been one of my..."
"Victims?" I tried to laugh.
"...boys?" She stared at me, waiting for her answer.
I took a deep breath and pondered the merits of the truth. This was my girlfriend's sister after all and we were talking about her not-so-secret recreational masturbation of multiple boys. In the end I had no option and said, "Of course I would. Why do you think I've been so interested in the rumor all this time, it's hot... a fantasy."
"A no-strings-attached handjob?"
"From a sexy girl wearing a velvet glove."
Kristi took another drink and pulled the glove from her pocket. "It's been a couple of years," she said wistfully, "but if you want to give it a try... I guess that would settle most of your curiosity."
When she looked up at me I expected a smirk, or a cocky smile, but all I got was a neutral look. Kristi was leaving the final word up to me.
"Can we stay friends afterwards?" I asked innocently. "You are Carla's sister after all."
Kristi nodded. "She doesn't have to know. Like I said, and have done many times, we're talking about a no-strings-attached handjob."
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