And then he really moves, pulling out and slamming back into me, making my body quake at the intensity of his actions. How desperate I am for him to fuck me and do it hard. More… Please.
He pounds into me for several more thrusts before my body’s climbing again. He’s hitting me hard and in just the right spot. I’ve never been taken before—not in this primal way. His body tenses with mine. I want to tense my legs but I can’t and it only adds to the pleasure. As he thrusts harder and harder, the friction builds and my body heats. Fire burns in my veins as I’m forced into another shattering orgasm. My pussy clenches around his cock, pulsing over him, and I feel him go rigid as he comes deep inside me.
He relaxes his body, his head coming to rest on mine, and we’re quiet for a moment, surrounded by the sound of our breathing as we both struggle to regain our senses. My insides have turned to liquid and I may be physically unable to move. The quiet stretches out and I’m overcome. My raw emotions bubble under the surface, a reaction to the intensity of the time we’ve shared this evening. I feel totally vulnerable to this man. Content and satisfied. But above all, I feel connected. The dream I’d given up on. I have to try to not break down. I need to break the spell—the magical spell that exists between us now, binding me to him. He’s not mine.
“Thank you, Sebastian,” I murmur breathlessly. Seb gently pulls himself out of me and I slump deep into the bed beneath me, completely spent from the experience that is Sebastian. I can’t hear what he’s doing, but I don’t really care. I cling to the afterglow of truly satisfying sex, careful to keep my emotions in check.
He unties my wrists and ankles and places a brief kiss on my lips but leaves the blindfold on. I can easily untie it when I’m ready.
“Take your time. I’ll be in the lounge with a drink for you when you’re ready.” He doesn’t say anything else. He just leaves.
I do take my time. My body is limp and sated. I slowly rise and pull the blindfold from my eyes. Light swamps me, and I take a moment for my sight to adjust to the room. I’m sitting in the middle of the bed amidst crumpled sheets, feeling thoroughly fucked. My skin is warm and my soul feels light. I head to the bathroom to wash up before dressing in my clothes. When I’m ready, I walk out to find him in a large chair with a glass of wine in his hand. There is a tall glass of sparkling clear liquid on the table in front of him. As I walk over to him, he motions for me to drink. I bend and kneel on the floor at his side. My drink, happily not wine, is cool and quenching, and I drink down half straightaway. Seb’s hand runs through my hair and it sets me at ease. We sit in silence until I can no longer ignore that I need to leave.
“What time is it?” I whisper, not really wanting to break the perfect contentment that surrounds us.
“A little after midnight.” My heart pounds. I need to leave now. I need to be home before Phil gets in. But I don’t want to leave.
“How are you feeling, Izzy?” His gentle tone is soothing.
“I’m good. I just… don’t want to leave.” I sigh. “But I suppose I must. It’s after midnight.”
“Come on then, Cinderella.” He stands and gently helps me to my feet.
I realise all of my things are still in my room and that I’ll need to take off my anklet, so I head to the bedroom. “I won’t be a minute.” Gathering my bags quickly, I replace the anklet in its black box and return. As I walk towards the door, I glance up to see the black-and-white photographs of beautiful women, and a wave of unease washes over me. Do I measure up? In Seb’s eyes, do I measure up to what he likes?
I try to knock that thought straight out of my mind. I was feeling perfectly calm and happy before it invaded. My mood is calmer than the previous visit with Seb, and I want it to continue.
“Don’t forget the homework, Isabel.” Seb’s comment shakes me from my thoughts, and I suddenly remember the beginning of our evening.
“No, I won’t.”
“Are you free next Friday?”
Friday? That’s a whole week. Can’t I see you before that?
“Um, yes. Yes, Friday is fine.” I can’t keep the edge of disappointment from my voice, and he clearly reads it.
“I’ve a busy week and I want to be able to give you my undivided attention when I see you, Isabel.”
“Okay. Friday is fine.”
“Besides, I want you to keep me posted with your progress. Every day, remember, and that includes Friday.” He smiles warmly down at me, and I can’t help but answer with my own.
“Thank you for tonight. It was… definitely more.” I feel shy as I say the words, but he leans to kiss me, so softly and gently that I know he feels the connection we shared tonight.
“You are more than welcome. You pleased me immensely tonight. This week I want you to think about what limits and conditions you wish to place on what we do during your evenings with me. By having intercourse with you I broke a self-imposed restriction. It won’t happen again until you ask me to.”
“I more or less begged you. I wouldn’t change anything we did.”
A wry smile tugs at his mouth. “Yes, you did, and I’m glad you have no regrets, but I should not have lost my self-control. I consider myself a good Dom. A good Dom is a controlled Dom. I wasn’t tonight.”
The soft lilt in his voice envelops me in yet more satisfaction. He is as reluctant to let me go as I am to leave. I open the door slowly before I turn to smile. We head to the lobby in silence, the signal to the end of the evening. The taxi is waiting and it feels as if I’m in a dream state, weak limbed and light-headed. My body’s on autopilot as I get in, sit back and relax. My mind returns to Seb’s bed.
Much like the first evening when I watched her leave, I’m left feeling empty. Tonight surpassed all my expectations and destroyed my carefully made plans. I underestimated my attraction to her. I sit down to finish my wine, but my mind lingers on the evening, recalling all of her reactions, all of her beauty.
Fuck, those heels… and the anklet. She tested my control on many different levels and I bet she didn’t even realise. Her natural submission fuelled my dominance. Watching her as she followed my instructions on how to get herself off—her finger running over her bare pussy lips—I thought I was going to come in my trousers like a teenager.
She might want to experience her own version of sexual submission and hand her body over to my command, but where are her boundaries? How much can I ask of her before she backs off in fear or disgust? I suppose the only way to find out is to continue on this path and explore her limits with her. She has a quick, intelligent and inquisitive mind. She wants to taste that freedom where obedience, desire, and submission mix. I’d like to take her to that place—if I don’t send her fleeing in fear first.
She took it all so naturally. Her body’s reactions were fucking beautiful, arching up into my mouth and hands as I played with her sweet pink nipples. I can still smell her musky scent on my fingers and taste her in my mouth. Fuck, she was so wet I could barely stop myself from eating her and seeing how quickly she could come.
I stop my mental tape recording, as I’m getting hard and I’ve got to wait all week before I can see her again.
I never meant to fuck her. That was a line I drew for myself, but I couldn’t say no when she begged so delightfully. It was her choice.
Keeping this arrangement balanced was always going to be tricky. God, Izzy is keeping me on my toes. Finding new ways to test her boundaries stirs feelings in me that have been dormant a long time. My original plan to show her only a power exchange lasted as long as it took for her to tell me she wanted a more sexual experience. It was a relief. I wanted her as much as she wanted me. Worse, my feelings are engaged. I take the glasses to the kitchen, but I can’t escape her presence.
I’m confident that I can show her more of my true nature, be harder with her. I won’t sugar-coat it like I have done with others. In the future, I want to see her like she was earlier—a beautifully sexy woman spread out and willingly restrained. That’s what I’
ve been looking for. A woman who isn’t afraid to submit to me. Who trusts my actions as a Dom, who craves the control I want to possess over her.
Maybe she’ll turn out to be a tourist like all the others—simply playing along, pretending, then scurrying back after the novelty of a bit of kinky sex wears off. When they realised that what I needed from them was their total submission, not just role-play, they ran. I’m fed up with tempering my nature in the hopes that I’ll find the right woman. Sure, Natasha could set me up with a submissive to play with, but I’m well beyond wanting a temporary relationship that lasts as long as a scene.
Izzy is the temptation of everything I want. There is no way I will be able to sleep in my bed tonight, not with her smell and the results of two orgasms all over the covers. I make myself a coffee and walk down to my study. I’ll sleep in the other guest room. I have to stop thinking about her, but all I can see is her kneeling before me, waiting for me, submitting to me. God, I want her submission and hope that it runs as deeply as I need in a woman. I crave the power exchange, and I’ve already built a good trust with her. With Izzy, it could be fucking amazing.
Jesus! I get up from my desk and grab a proper drink from the kitchen, knocking back the whisky and letting the burn settle me. I’ve offered to show Isabel what true submission feels like. How deep does her submissive nature truly run? Could she be my perfect complement? Is my search over?
There remains a huge hurdle. She’s a married woman. What is she going to do about her marriage? Will her husband let her go? I must remember she’s not mine, even if all my instincts are crying out to pursue her and make her mine.
The desire to discover if Izzy is the elusive ‘one’ teases my heart with tantalizing possibilities. The question that plagues me is can I keep from becoming too emotionally invested? I must. I’m the one with the control. I shudder, envisioning the damage she could do if I lose that control—if she becomes too important to me.
Saturday
I can barely peel my eyelids open when my alarm rings. It’s Saturday, so I simply hit it and roll back over in bed, determined to stay in my satisfied doze, rested and content to do nothing else. Phil is at work—I presume. He has the morning shift. All the wonderful visions from last night dance through my brain, reminding me of how good Seb made me feel.
“You need to understand your body and its needs. You must make yourself come every day this week.” Even remembering his words makes me squirm in my bed, tensing all my muscles and then stretching, feeling my body relax. Can I really play with myself and make myself come for Seb?
Even as I doubt I can do it, my hand slowly crawls down my stomach and passes under the waistband of my pyjama shorts. The loose cotton provides easy access for my now wandering hand, and my fingers glide on either side of my labia. My hesitant fingers only need a moment to build confidence before they slide between my lips to find my clit. I gently tease myself in tiny circles before I run my finger down and push inside a little.
My eyes close and I imagine Seb watches me—watches me as I push my finger in deeper. “Mmm.” My pulse quickens as my appreciation grows. It’s not as though I’ve never done this before, but this is the first time I picture another man’s face in the process.
Thoughts of Seb send a wave of heat directly to my pussy, and I move my finger to focus on my clit. My naughty little clit. I’m going to come quickly, so I squeeze my eyes shut and propel myself over the edge. “Mmm” I release and my finger stills, my pussy still pulsing over my hand. My body slowly comes back down as I lie still for a few minutes, peacefully listening for my heart to quieten. It didn’t compare to what Seb did to me. It was neither as intense nor as satisfying.
I ponder what to do with my day now that I’m actually awake. Surely there is something to keep my mind away from Seb, but that is impossible after what I’ve just done. Before I pull myself out of bed for the day, I reach for my phone.
I’ve completed the homework you set for me for today. Izzy
Good girl. Did you enjoy it? S
Yes, although I preferred it when you watched, or when you touched me.
Can I say that to him? It’s only a text.
We’ll get to that, Isabel. Don’t worry. But I want you to continue with your homework. Remember, every day and bonus points for texting when your fingers are still wet. S
Then I just earned some bonus points.
And I earned a difficult day thinking about those naughty fingers. S
I blush as I read his text. It’s easier to think about following this instruction knowing the effect it will have on Seb. I want to hear his praise more often.
After I throw some clothes on and brush my teeth, I head downstairs for coffee and reflect on what I’ve done with Seb. My mind is full of erotic visions of what has been and hopefully what I’ve still yet to experience. I want him to challenge me gently. I think I’ve known that ever since I first put on the anklet. The problem I have now is that I don’t really know what else to expect. Giving up control of my sexual needs is natural with Seb. Something that I long ago gave up on with Phil. How far will Seb take me? Do I even know where my limits are? I have plenty of ideas of things he might try, all courtesy of my Tumblr and BDSM private profile pages. Seb called himself a controlled Dom. I witnessed the slight traits of a Dom—the subtle changes that made my nerves stand on end and my sex ache with anticipation. Will I get to see more of that side to him?
The rest of the day is uneventful and I’m left, once again, to my own devices at home. I do very little, aside from keeping up to date with the latest posts from Tumblr and exploring a little deeper into the BDSM sites I’ve always browsed but never interacted with.
It’s late by the time Phil shows his face, too late to have just finished work. He heads straight to bed. We’re talking even less than before, if that’s even possible. The guilt that I’m feeling is hard to live with, even though our relationship was failing before I met Seb. I’m not making an effort, though. I don’t want to make the effort, and what does that say about me?
Sunday
Saturday helped to ease my nerves concerning playing with myself without Seb’s instruction. It’s early morning and a Sunday. The perfect opportunity for a leisurely shower where I can experiment. Phil is downstairs and won’t disturb me. I take off my dressing gown and step into the shower. I luxuriate in the water soaking me and turn the heat up to relax my muscles. Working my fingers into my scalp eases some of my latent worries, and the stress washes away with the bubbles. I pick up the shower gel and squirt a generous amount into my palm and lather it up. Instead of rushing with the wash and rinse, I take time to let my hands run over my arms and my chest, exploring my skin. I’ve never done this. Before long, the bathroom has filled with steam. I move my hand to the apex of my thighs and gently graze my middle finger between my labia. I try to remember all of Seb’s instructions to tease myself and build myself up. However, I’m impatient and tease my clit almost straightaway.
My reaction is instant, and I can’t understand why I’ve never tried this before. I can touch and tease and rub where I need to, bring myself right to the edge quickly. Seb can’t instruct me to go slow here. I want to feel that wave of heat rush throughout my body.
I run my finger once or twice down my slit and push inside. I’m slick, not wet from the water, but from how my body reacts to my own touch. As I press my finger inside, my stomach tenses with desire and an ache or longing to have something thrust deep into me. I swirl my finger and return to my clit. The hot water streaming down my body heats me further and I want to reach that high. I rub quickly on the tip of my fleshy clit until my legs go weak. With my arm out to steady myself, I let go and succumb to the rush of bliss throughout my body.
I take a few breaths and try not to swallow too much water before I finish my regular shower routine. Two days down, five to go!
After the longest shower I’ve ever had, I finally step out and grab my towel to dry off. I pull on my dressing gown and w
alk into the bedroom. A text from Seb awaits me.
As you seemed so eager to please yourself yesterday, I thought I’d see how you were feeling today? S
I grin at the thought I pleased him. The high from coming has loosened me up. I have no problem telling him exactly what I want to.
Well, my body is still wet from the shower, and if I wasn’t in the shower, my fingers would still be slick. Izzy
Good girl. Remember to listen to your body. I’m looking forward to the rest of the week. S
Monday
After how good the shower was yesterday morning, I decide that I’m going to spend a little extra time in the shower every morning this week. It feels so good to get that release, that warm feeling throughout my body. Today, getting myself off was easier than yesterday, and I even have a slight glow to my cheeks as I rush to finish getting ready for work.
I’ve completed my homework for today… and I think I found how I like to do my homework the best. Izzy
Really? You’ve only been fingering yourself for a couple of days and you already think you know how you like it best? Isabel, you need to experiment a lot more. S
No, I mean I know that I like it in the shower, where I’m not going to be disturbed. Izzy
The shower. That sounds… Well, let’s just say I’m going to have an interesting day thinking about it. S
His text puts another great smile on my face. I happily go to work, content in how my body feels and eagerly looking forward to my morning shower tomorrow.
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