Night of the Senses

by Victoria Blisse

  “No, not really, no. I can’t come this afternoon.” I had planned to end it—to explain then end it—but his low rumbling moan of disappointment threw me. “I’m really not very well, at all.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, poor thing. Well, you take care of yourself, and let me know tomorrow how you’re doing.”

  “Okay.” I bit my lip, angry with myself for being such a coward.

  “Bye, sweetheart. I’ll miss you.”

  “Yeah, you too. Bye.” I slammed down the phone and sighed. I wasn’t good enough for him. I had issues and a past, and I wanted to end it for his good, but when I heard his voice like melted chocolate over crystallised ginger, I wanted him.

  Chapter Three

  I avoided the shop for three more days. On the third day, I could not bear the feeling of my dirty hair any more, and I had to shower. As I washed off his scent that had dissipated to little more than a memory, I realised something. I realised I needed a new start.

  I had been living in the past, living by the rules of my now-dead boyfriend, the rules I had wanted to challenge back then but had never had the heart to do. Why should I live by those rules now? They didn’t work for me, and I should have been more honest with John.

  Well, I was going to be honest with Jack. I had to go and tell him everything. I wanted him. I wanted to be his slave, his sweet slut, maybe even his girlfriend. I wanted him, and I wasn’t going to deny it any more.

  The old had passed away. The new Emma strode confidently out of the shower and into her sexiest boots. She threw on tight jeans with a breast-enhancing top, and she marched out of that door to see Jack. She needed him.

  The confidence of third person thinking wore off as I walked along his street. Suddenly, I was no longer the sexy, confident new Emma. I was the old, hesitant Emma who was scared to death that she’d be rejected. I had to do it though. I had to go to Jack. I could no longer hide from my true emotions. I’d spent years doing that, and the last twelve months or so had really fucked me up. I had to tell the truth.

  The familiar scent of vanilla, sugar and spice hit me as I neared Jacques. I stood for a moment outside, savouring that smell. I looked through the window, smiling and expecting to see Jack, but behind the counter, there was a tall, slim woman serving an elderly lady and smiling.

  My mind was full of questions, and when Jack came into the shop, some answers proposed themselves to my mind. He talked to the old lady and laid a hand on the slim woman’s arm. He looked at her and smiled then said something to the customer and leaned in to plant a kiss on the slim lady’s cheek.

  Fuck, I’d been replaced. She was beautiful, dark hair, and bright green eyed with a lovely figure. No wonder he’d moved on from me. She was beautiful. Tears rolled down my cheeks, and as the bell on the door tinkled, I sobbed. I couldn’t go in. I couldn’t tell him the truth. I had to go.

  I didn’t look up. My eyes were blurred with tears anyway so I couldn’t see much, and as I walked away, my head lowered, all I saw was the tarmac below me, swimming and shimmering and seemingly moving beneath my feet.

  “Sorry,” I exclaimed as I bumped into someone. My body hurt from the impact, physically and emotionally. I did not want to touch anyone at that moment. Then, suddenly, I detected a familiar, masculine scent.

  “Emma, what’s the matter?”

  “Jack?” I looked up through the tears and saw his handsome face wrinkled with concern. His hands clasped my arms on either side of my body, and his touch screamed over all the emotions flying through my body. “Oh, Jack.”

  I threw myself forward into his arms. He didn’t hesitate to wrap himself around me. He held me close as I sobbed into his shoulder. I drank in his scent, sweet, spicy and uniquely him.

  “Emma,” he murmured into my hair, smoothing his hands down my back. “Sweetheart, what is the matter?”

  Then I remembered, and I yanked myself from him embrace.

  “I saw you,” I sobbed. “I saw you, and I was just going to come in and tell you the truth. I was just going to come in and tell you I wanted you. I was going to come in and tell you I’d been so scared, that you were so good, so perfect, and you made me feel, so, so, right. I was going to tell you…I was going to, then I saw you. I saw you, Jack, with her.”

  “With who?” He seemed genuinely confused.

  “Back in the shop. The beautiful woman.” I was babbling, incapable of real sentences. “You touched her and kissed her. I saw it.”

  He laughed, and I wondered how he could be so cruel. “Oh, you sweet, sweet woman. That’s my sister, Janet. She’s at university, so I’ve given her a part-time job to help me out and help her pay the bills.”

  “Your sister?”

  “Yes, you sweet, silly thing. My little sister. Didn’t you notice the family resemblance?”

  “No,” I sniffed. “It appears I was too busy jumping to conclusions.”

  His arms were around me again, and my cheeks burned red against the soft, cool cotton of his top.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered in my ear, and his lips brushed against my cheek. I looked up, and his lips sought out mine. Words were forgotten. I just tried to communicate all I felt through my kiss. The anguish, the tears, the bitterness and the sweet conclusion.

  “Come in,” he moaned into my mouth, “or dear God, I’ll have to have you right here on the street.”

  He tucked my hand in his and led me up the side passage and through the open back door to his kitchen. He took my coat. “Sit here a minute. Let me just talk to Jan. I think she can go home a little early today.” He winked, and I blushed. I welcomed the moment alone to pull myself together. When they walked back into the kitchen together, I realised why Jack had been so surprised I hadn’t realised they were related. They really did look very similar, and their eyes were perfectly matched.

  “This is Emma.”

  “Hey, Emma,” Janet said. She reached out, and I shook her hand.

  “This is my sister, Janet. She’s just going home.”

  “See, you, Emma.” She smiled. “Are there any leftovers I can have, Jack?”

  “My cakes aren’t leftovers, you brat, but yes, take the fresh cream ones. There are two or three, I think.”

  “Thanks, brother dearest.” She punched his arm then pulled on the coat he offered her. “I’ll lock up on my way out. See you in the morning.”

  “She seems nice,” I said, as she walked out into the shop.

  “I am,” she yelled. “It’s my brother you have to watch.”

  Jack shook his head and walked over to me. He bent to kiss me, and I clung to the front of his shirt, dizzy with desire. I vaguely heard the tinkle of bells somewhere in the background. Everything was background, even me. Jack was the only thing that mattered, and his kiss was taking me over. He enveloped me in his embrace, and I clung on to him for dear life. I wanted to set adrift in his kiss, but I needed the moment to end because I had things to say, hard things, and I was determined to say them.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” he whispered, and I nodded.

  “I have to tell you some things, Jack. It’s important.”

  “All right, sweet thing,” he replied and gently rubbed my back as he let me walk up the stairs before him.

  We walked into his living room. It was pretty bare, with just a sofa and a TV and a radiator on the wall. I wondered where he kept all his stuff. It was eerie, the emptiness of the room.

  “I don’t spend much time in here,” he said, as if he’d read my mind. Maybe he realised how weird it looked, how empty of emotion. “When I’m not in the kitchen, I’m sleeping, mostly. I don’t get much time to watch the TV.”

  He sat beside me on the sofa.

  “What do you want to talk to me about?” he asked.

  “I’ve done a lot of thinking these past few days, Jack, and I need to come clean with you. I’ve not been ill. I was just kinda freaked out.”

  “I thought so,” he nodded. “You needed space, yes?”

&n
bsp; “Yes, what happened the other day with me and you, it was…it was intense, and I needed to think about a lot of things.” I took a long deep breath. He didn’t talk. He just rested his hand on my knee and looked at me.

  “I guess, I better start from the beginning.” I took a deep breath and continued. “I’ve always known I’m submissive. I’m not one to cause a fuss, I’m not a leader, I like to have someone else organising my life. Anyway, I found out that I’m submissive sexually, too.” I blushed, but as I talked, it became easier to continue. “I’ve only experienced the odd moment of it though. The few men I have had those kind of relationships with have been very vanilla, and the occasional spank was seen as a bit of fun. I could never ask them to spank me properly or tie me up because they’d freak out.

  “When I met John, my last boyfriend, I thought he’d be different. He seemed so in charge, in control, but it turned out when I revealed my deep desire to be dominated, he saw it as a psychological deficiency. He told me it was my lack of confidence talking, that a real man would never raise his hand to a woman, that a real man wouldn’t ever be so uncouth. I was disappointed, but I let him convince me he was right.”

  Jack squeezed my thigh but continued just to listen.

  “I thought he was the one I’d marry. He was the one who’d teach me to enjoy ‘normal’ sex. I did enjoy it, but I always felt something was missing. Anyway, the point is that John is no longer in my life. Over a year ago, he was killed in a hit and run accident. He was killed. I survived.”

  “Oh, Emma,” Jack exclaimed. He shook his head and ran his hand soothingly up and down my leg.

  “I was messed up, physically, mentally and emotionally. Still am, really. It’s why I don’t work. It’s why I didn’t step out of my flat for six months. It was the smell of this shop that helped me out of my home. One day, I decided I had to go out. I couldn’t stand being inside any longer. I hadn’t gotten far when my legs began to quake, and my heart began to race. I felt so scared just walking a few feet away from my flat. I caught the scent of this place, and it pulled me on. I wanted to find out where the delicious smell was coming from, and I ended up outside your window. I repeated that walk every day, enjoying the scent then feasting visually on the cakes in your window.”

  “I always wondered,” he muttered then smiled encouragingly.

  “So then I met you. That day, I’d heard something that took me back to the accident. I was freaking out. You were so good to me, and I was, well, Jack…” I stumbled. It was difficult to express my emotions for him. It was so much more personal than telling him about my life before Jacques and Jack. “I was attracted to you. I felt all kinds of guilt with that, but then when you, when we, when we were together on your table and up here and you dominated me…you bound me, spanked me and made me call you Master. When you did that the guilt just built up. It was wrong. It had to be wrong. John always said it was wrong. And what had I done? I’d betrayed his memory by shagging some man who sent me back to my pre-enlightened days. I liked being submissive.” I sighed and licked my lips. “I freaked out again and tried to break away, but finally, I worked out that I don’t want to break out. This is my life, now. I cannot live in the past. I don’t care if what I want makes me a damn pervert. I want to be dominated and I want to be dominated. By you.” I added the last line quietly, still scared to admit it out loud.

  He pulled me into his warm embrace and kissed me. His reaction took me by surprise, but I enjoyed it, and I could feel intense emotion in his kiss.

  “Sweetheart,” he said. “Oh sweetheart, I wish I had known. I would have tried to have done things differently, slower. I love your submissiveness. I love dominating you. I’ve missed you so much the last few days. It freaked me out, too. We barely know each other, but I clicked with you. I felt so right with you, and I want that to continue.”

  “So do I,” I agreed, “but I’d understand if you wanted to leave me well alone. I’ve got a whole load of baggage.”

  “No, I want you, Emma, baggage or no. You set my body on fire, and you’re in my thoughts all the time. I want you, Emma, so much.”

  “Even though, I’m not experienced? I don’t know if I can be a very good submissive.”

  “Meh, I don’t care about that.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Anyway, you’ve done really well so far. I’ll never take it further than you’re comfortable with. I promise.”

  We kissed again. This time our whole bodies joined in, pursing and pressing as if our bodies were lips locked together in lust.

  I was dizzy with excitement and relief. He had not rejected me. He wanted me. It was amazing and so was the touch of his hands as they roamed up and down my body. They slipped beneath my top, and his slightly chilled fingers made me gasp, but they soon warmed up as they rubbed my skin. I wanted to feel him, too, so I dragged up his T-shirt to run my fingers up his back and pulled him closer.

  “Strip for me,” he gasped.

  “What?” I looked at him askance.

  “Strip for me, baby. I want to watch you take of your clothes. I want you naked.”

  “But, I—”

  “Don’t make excuses. Please baby, for me.”

  I melted. The pleading tone of his voice combined with the desperation in his eyes would have broken even the most determined of person.

  I stood up, my heart thumping, and pulled my T-shirt up and over my head. I thought I’d feel uncomfortable, that I’d be stiff and scared, but his gaze warmed me, and his obvious lust boosted my confidence. As I slipped out of my boots, I shimmied, and to take off my socks, I leant on his shoulder, dangling my bra-encased breasts in his face. He moaned, and I felt the cool air over my skin, but that was the only contact. I craved his touch, and I knew I’d need to be naked before I felt it.

  I unfastened my jeans and slid them down my thighs. He was seeing all of my most hated bits, my wobbly tummy and my chubby thighs, and I didn’t mind because I could hear the gasp of excitement that caught in his throat. His excitement made me bold. I kicked the jeans from my legs and wondered which item to take off next.

  I rubbed a hand over my chest, and as the other tickled over my knickers and crotch, my nipples decided it in the end. They were painfully erect, and the lace of my bra was too stimulating for them. I reached behind myself and located the clip. I wish I could say it pulled apart first time, but no, I struggled with it a moment, twisting and contorting until one hook gave and I managed to tease the other hooks into submission.

  His smile showed his amusement, but as I peeled the material from my breasts, the smile became a leer, and I revelled in it. I stroked my hands over the burning hot skin, teased the thick, hardened nipples and rolled my fingers down over my stomach.

  I wanted to tease him even more, but I was too turned on to play further. I slipped the knickers off my hips and let them pool at my feet.

  “Okay, I’m naked. What next?” I asked with a cheeky wink.

  “Get on your knees, baby. Here by my feet.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I whispered it, the words sticking in my throat which was now dry with excitement. It was just what I wanted, to be commanded and to obey, to be lusted after and cared for. I dropped to my knees and shuffled the few inches over to him, my breasts swaying with each move.

  “Now.” He pulled open his trouser zip and popped open the button. His cock eagerly rose from between the brass teeth and the moisture returned to my mouth as I held back from drooling with sheer lust. “Suck my cock, my sweet slut.”

  “Yes, Master,” I purred and pressed my lips to his tip, tasting his saltiness. My tongue whipped out and circled him. I wanted him so much. I needed to feel him in my mouth. I wanted to pleasure him and, in doing so, pleasure myself.

  His hand sat possessively on the back of my head, but he didn’t push or guide my actions. He just stroked and pulled my hair in response to my lips and my tongue as they explored him. When I took him in my mouth, his breath hissed from between his teeth, and as I slipped my lips lower, the exha
lation turned into a groan. My senses were overwhelmed, his musk surrounded me, his taste filled my mouth and the sound of his breathing filled my mind. His touch kept me tingling, and the thought of what I was doing was almost as thrilling as the rest of the actions all pulled together.

  “Oh, you’re so good,” he groaned. “You’re such a sweet slut. You drive me wild. You drive me insane with lust.”

  I smiled around his cock, pleased by his praise. I continued to slip up and down his hardness, my lips squeezing him, my tongue moving over his sensitive skin. With each bob of my head, I tried to take him a little deeper. I went from the tip, to half of his cock fitting in my mouth, to being just a scant inch away from taking it all.

  His moans got more frenzied the deeper his cock sunk into my throat. I loved the feeling of him there. It felt so nasty, so dirty, so good. He obviously agreed.

  “Oh Emma, darling, I’m going to come.”

  I tried extra hard to take all of him as my lips plunged down his cock again, and I was rewarded with his pubic hairs tickling over my lip and his hot, salty juices spurting down the back of my throat. I sucked him lovingly as I pulled off him after drinking his juices. I licked my lips and smiled up at him.

  “Fuck, you’re good.” He grinned, and I flushed with pleasure. “Hop up onto the sofa now, please.”

  “Yes, Master.” I winked, and he smiled.

  “Cheeky thing.” He kissed me. His hands roamed over my naked body, and my pleasure rumbled from the back of my throat. His caresses set my body alight. I felt as if I was burning up. My skin felt tight, and my insides bubbled like boiling water.

  “My turn,” he whispered in my ear then slipped off the sofa and onto the floor at my feet. He hauled my legs apart and settled on his knees between them. Forcefully, he dragged me by the hips until I perched on the very edge of the sofa. He then pulled my thighs until they were stretched wide, my pussy completely exposed to his sight. I fell back, my shoulders resting on the sofa back, a gaping hole between my arched back and the sofa itself.