“So…?” Jeni waited.
“Viciously.”
The word cut through every other word he’d spoken, going straight to the heart of his hurt. It wasn’t bitterness or anger Jeni saw now. Just another moment of sadness and, perhaps, regret.
“There was a lot of other crap. She was screwing some Dom on her business trips to New York. I wasn’t surprised, though. It explained a lot. By then I couldn’t care less what she did. Even when she came back on her knees, begging…” He stopped for a moment as if he were unsure what to say next. “I just wanted out,” he finally continued. “You can see why I haven’t wanted a woman. I was done. I gotta be honest with you. Just being here with you is more than I ever expected of myself. The whole idea of another relationship makes me nervous.”
“Well, I thank you for being honest. But you are here now…” she said gently. Her heart swelled with compassion realizing how deeply he’d been hurt. She’d never felt like this with a man she’d just met, or with any man for that matter, except for the man she still mourned.
He smiled now, eyes glistening. He reached out for her this time, taking her hands in his and holding them with an almost unbearable urgency. She remembered their warmth as that fierce ‘Jack energy’ moved through her again.
“Yes, I’m here, and I’m glad I am.” When he said this her heart seemed to lift, and so did his. For just a moment, the magic of their meeting had taken such a dark turn that she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d excused himself and left. But that magic only seemed to expand with this last confession.
Jeni had tried hard during the previous few days not to imagine the meeting in advance, not wanting to spoil it with expectations. Good thing that she hadn’t. She could have never imagined what unfolded that day or where their conversation would lead. As open as he was about his past and his marriage, she spoke candidly about hers, and the grief she still carried with her. There were no tears on her part, which was almost surprising given how easily she could cry at the drop of a hat. Their hands didn’t part again until they finally moved away from the hurt and into the present.
From that point on, the conversation breezed back and forth from subject to subject, from her life to his life, from vanilla to kink, from botany to teaching to advertising to blogs, all with a great deal of ease, and with no particular objective in mind. She could feel her physical desire for him rise and fall in beautiful waves, and not even the tiniest trace of mystery was lost during that brief rendezvous. Rendezvous, she liked the sound of that – as if it were something forbidden – which this was not. But at such a public meeting so much was left unsaid about the subjects they exchanged in their emails, about Master/slave, crawling before him on her knees, and serving him like a slavish female. Not that those subjects weren’t on their minds; not that there wasn’t a fresh burst of desire infusing the fantasies they craved. Neither one would forget the reason they were there – or the kinky sexual imperative that had driven the two most of their lives. Keeping their kink under wraps in a public setting was necessary, but it did nothing to diminish the fire that burned in them both.
She liked being in Jack’s company. He conveyed in the flesh the same sort of blunt, steady resolve that leapt out at her from his emails, and during that one remarkable phone conversation the day before she left for France. He’d ordered up the nipple ties that day. She watched his eyes now, noting when they glanced at her tits. She purposely wore black ties underneath her white bra and tank top so he could glimpse the shadow of the yarn and know that the ties were there. He couldn’t help but notice. Regarding her failure to obey his first command while on her trip, and the items on her list of atonement, she wondered if he’d mention them.
The sexual tension between them became so thick they could feel it on the skin, taste it in the dust. The air reeked with the heady fragrance of their desire. And then, much to Jeni’s great delight, all the pent-up sexual passion, artful fantasy and dangerous mystery that had sparked their affair seemed to coalesce in one illicit moment, when Jack couldn’t help himself and reached across the table to slyly stroke a nipple poking through her tank top. He just barely grazed the surface with the back of his finger, making the little slip of skin beneath her clothes more erect than it had been. Jeni’s pussy instantly spasmed. She tried to keep her response in check, but there was no doubt now that he’d seen the black nipple tie wrapped around that erect flesh, and that made her smile.
“The nipple tie, right?” he said with a calculated smirk of approval. His eyes glittered darkly. She shuddered, suddenly wanting so much more from him.
She coyly pursed her lips before they broke out into a girlish grin.
“Yes, sir. I do what I’m told; I was hoping you would notice.”
“Oh, I noticed.” He was definitely beyond his sadness and into the heated moment. She loved the devious look in his eye – and what that look might come to mean.
He stroked her nipple a bit longer. “I’m going to need to see these,” he said.
“But not here,” she came back, gazing around nervously.
“Of course, not here,” he said evenly. “Don’t panic. But there’ll be an unveiling soon enough.”
“I like the sound of that.” She could hardly contain her delight. How was it possible that this relationship could be so easy and feel so utterly natural?
“You just keep obeying orders,” he advised. The authoritative warning was enough to make her squirm against the table bench.
“I have no intention of disobeying you,” she assured him with a flirtatious grin. “I’m very clear about that.” She wanted to say that there was something genuinely unique about him that inspired this kind of slavish behavior, which was very true, but she stopped herself. She didn’t want to say too much, jump ahead of things, lay herself so wide open that she risked being hurt if the happy fantasy suddenly vanished.
He was likely clueless about the powerful effect he had on her. But he helped to keep her calm. Rather than feeling besieged by her desires, Jeni found within the physical energy he generated something unwavering and substantial that continued to keep her settled. He was the kind of man she needed. Everything he did seemed to douse her libido with lust. But he was prudent, reasoned and calm. Just being with him had a soothing effect on her nerves.
He’d surprised her. Openness and vulnerability were not qualities she attributed to most Dominant men. And yet, Jack exhibited both that day.
From the moment they sat down at the picnic table, Jeni imagined the first kiss. She watched his lips as he spoke. She licked her own involuntarily. Was it even prudent to kiss on the first date? Weren’t there rules for that?
There’s something adolescent and vulnerable about a first kiss and all the passion that lies behind it. She wasn’t a horny teenager any more. But by the time they rose to leave, she was so horny that she wished she could tackle him to the ground and rut in the grass right there in the park.
What she wanted was a kiss.
Even one chaste kiss would be better than leaving without that first intimate contact. (No, holding hands didn’t count, even as special as that had been)
When they naturally gravitated toward each other, his arm went around her waist and hers around him.
She gazed up into his eyes, speaking softly, “You suppose we could…could kiss?” she asked.
They were filled with the same dormant obsession. It had been far too long since either had faced a first kiss, and yet it happened naturally. Nothing awkward about it. The kiss was small and simple, but for Jeni it was the perfect first kiss. When he leaned down and their lips met, that tender touching generated a shiver through her body that raced like wildfire down her spine. He backed off and studied her face for one brief second, then kissed her several more times, each one delicate and subdued. The passion welled up through her body. Could he hear the rapid beating of her heart? Could he taste her longing, hear the blood rising though her veins? Each kiss fed her hungry need for tenderness and
physical connection, and each carried with it the knowledge that neither of them had had enough to satisfy their longing.
She quivered in his arms as the kisses lingered. Then at last, he gave her a warm hug, and finally pulled back.
“I’d better be going,” he said with a regretful smile.
They walked hand in hand to the parking lot, and stopped beside her car. Staring into each other’s eyes, they kissed again. Then she climbed in her car and looked at him through the window.
He smiled. “I’ll call soon.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
She watched him head for his green Jeep Wrangler, then waited until he’d pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the Interstate before she started her car and drove into the street toward home. She already missed him and he hadn’t been gone but seconds.
By the time Jeni arrived home, not fifteen minutes later, she could hardly remember what they talked about – perhaps it would come back to her later. But she would always remember the kisses, and the way they held each other’s hands, and the way his finger grazed her covered nipple as he felt the little black ties underneath her tank top.
They agreed to meet again, for a very different kind of meeting. In private. Behind closed doors. She couldn’t wait for him to call.
Chapter Six
“Just read your latest blog post, that sexy scene in the bar. I am beginning to think that the difference between fantasy and reality are only those things we haven’t done, not because we’re unwilling to. Many of the things you write about in your stories are not all that far-fetched. Just a thought.
My fantasy, placing a ring with a tiny ID tag in my sub’s snatch. The reality…it’s a lot closer than you might think. Quite frankly, I’m glad your nipple rings are gone. I like to suck the little things and rings only get in the way. I can remove the ties when I like, so the ties stay. You wear them for me, not because they’re pretty, they aren’t, but because when I think of you during my day, and imagine you with them on, it pleases me. That picture takes my mind away from my harried life with all its crazy complications.
BTW, I found my leather cuffs and master locks. But not the collars. That’s fine. You should have your own, new relationship new collar. After what happened before…well, they could be lost forever and I wouldn’t mind. So, what does the ideal collar look like to you? Tell me first, then I’ll tell you what I imagine.
I know about your kinky scenes in private. How about in public, were you were shown off? And did it ever go further than being shown off?”
Thinking about that blog post is making me hard again. Jack”
Obviously, those nipple ties held a meaning for Jack that went beyond the small slavish observance she agreed to – and for the most part thought sweetly silly. Given the importance he placed on the tiny bows, she should take them more seriously. At the mention of a collar, she gulped back the immediate anxiety, and realized that Jack, bringing fantasy into reality, was just about the most thrilling thing she could think of at that moment.
“Good morning, Sir. Yes, I think that ID tag is definitely in sight, and that excites me. And we’re in total agreement on the nipple rings. Mine weren’t rings, but curved barbells and the beads did show through my clothes…I was never comfortable with that, though I lived with it for quite a few years.
As far as being shown off in public. There was the auction and some other occasions when we played with our kink friends. I think of those as public even though they were actually in private clubs or homes. But there were also times when we went out in the evening. I’d dress in garter belt, nylons and a lacy bra, short skirt, sheer blouse and high heels. That was the look he loved. He liked it when other men looked at me and could get a little glimpse of a tit or see my skirt riding high up on my thigh. Any further than that? Not really. We certainly weren’t out for me to pick up men, if that’s what you’re thinking.
It’s a beautiful morning here, the sunlight steaming through my porch window, (facing east). The light is beautiful. I’m so looking forward to Saturday!
With a warm sexy hug… Jeni”
PS: You asked for my input on the collar. The links below are ones I like. I think the black leather is my favorite.”
“Hi there, before I forget, I will need directions to your house.
My thoughts on collars. It will be comfortable to wear, since you’ll wear it in my presence, at all times when we’re alone. I’d like for you to sleep in it, too, although we may need a sleeping collar for that purpose, one with less hardware. I have an old leather dog collar I’ll bring with me tomorrow that can serve as a training collar until you’re ready for the official one. It might be perfect for sleeping in as well. I’ll make that decision when I see you again.”
Jack’s mention of the collar had her wiggling her ass against her seat. He certainly knew how to take control of a situation.
“In public, I expect you to be a classy slut. I’d like to see your nipples standing at attention, but only with me. I’m not much into displaying my sub in public. I don’t advertise what I do. If we went out in public with your nipples tied, a butterfly strapped to your clit, remote control and a plug in your back side, you’d be dressed in a classy black dress with no outward signs of what’s going on underneath. I am a private guy and want to keep it that way.
Speaking of tomorrow, I’d like you in nipple ties, of course, and I want you shaved. Your crotch stripped of every hair. Until then, Jack”
When he called around noon that day, the conversation was brief. He seemed more about action than talk, about seeing that she conform to the picture he had of her. Nipple Ties. Shaved. He didn’t ask for much, so she had little problem following his orders. There was no way she could mess this up. She wanted to show him how genuinely obedient she could be – especially after he’d been so forthcoming about the problems with his ex-wife. But Jeni did have her worries. There’d been a few times in the past when she’d run headlong into a command from her Dom that made her balk. The feeling had been instantaneous and there would be little way she could hide her feelings if that occasion arose now. However, this was a different time and very different dominant man. She wasn’t the same woman she’d been when her attempts at Master/slave had failed so miserably. There’d been nothing so far to suggest that their desires would clash, but she could be rather feisty and resistant when faced with a tough challenge. She prayed that wouldn’t happen – at least not their first time.
With Jack, Jeni saw her submissive desire in a new light. In so much of her kink life, she played a sub role, which could be a fun. But there was something very different in substance about surrendering to this man – what made the thought and the feel of him so explosive. Submission would be at a far deeper level than she’d known. She wanted to act on his orders, bow at his feet, surrender her body – all the familiar themes that had reverberated through her life, her stories, and her fantasies. Pleasing the man who owned the right to use her had become more important than her own pleasure – a far departure from the Jeni she used to be.
Jack’s final remark before he hung up. “You’ll be shaving tonight…”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Very good. Don’t touch yourself afterwards. No playing. No getting off. Not until I’m with you.”
She bristled instantly, then sat back in her chair stunned, trying to come to grips with this unexpected order. How in the hell was she supposed to keep her hands off her cunt for an entire night? The thought of exercising such restraint was its own kind of sexy, but she hadn’t yet shaved, and already she could feel her horny pussy begging to be played with.
After a long moment of quiet, she finally blurted out, “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t have said so if I didn’t.” Of course. He wasn’t a tease.
“Oh my,” she gasped. “You have no idea…”
“Oh, I think I do. But I want all that pent-up energy focused on me.”
Her entire body qui
ckened. “Yes, Sir.” Did he really know what this would mean for her the rest of the night? Probably not. Or, he might suspect the truth and was playing the Master card, which he had every right to do in the D/s game they played.
Jack’s command lingered in her thoughts all afternoon, which meant that she was nearly orgasmic by the time she climbed into the bathtub to soak and shave her legs, her underarms, and her horny snatch from backdoor to front. Each swipe of the razor produced another inner spasm, feeding a lust that had grown huge and voracious. She hadn’t had sex with a man in well over two years, why the hell wouldn’t she be horny? But this horny? This needy? This voracious?
Yes. She was all that.
Once she finished the delicate business, all she could think about was that he’d forbidden her to touch herself until he arrived. Certainly, she could keep her hands off her crotch for one night, one measly night and a long morning until he finally arrived. She tried a number of things to distract her – TV, reading, lots of deep cleansing breaths. Nothing worked. Her mind was besieged with thoughts of Jack’s visit; and her freshly shaved pussy just kept calling to her like a nagging bitch. One meager touch of a finger along her throbbing cunt would be all it would take for her to dismiss Jack’s explicit order and masturbate until she came.
She tried more deep breathing to settle herself, and when that failed to do the trick, she realized that there was nothing that would take her mind off her obsession. Rather than suffer in bed all night, she took her angst to the computer and began to write. A sudden flurry of words flew into her head then onto the screen until she’d exhausted herself and there was nothing left for her to say.
She remembered the last time she felt the thrill of her inner fire pouring out in the same furious way, days before she left for France. She opened an email to knighthawk925 – no blog post this time – this was too personal to share with the world. Her focus was on him alone, the cause of her current state of sexual madness.
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