His Pleasures and Pain (Book II) (Allen Trilogy 2)

by Chevelle Allen

  One of the things he loved most about her was she could be full of surprises. Together for just under a year, he went to her apartment to spend the weekend. When he arrived, she had the frumpiest flannel pajamas he’d ever seen with a ridiculous bonnet on her head. He couldn’t help but laugh because the entire image was so absurd. Rejecting his offers to help with dinner dishes, he sat on the couch while she cleaned the kitchen She turned on her music and began dancing in the kitchen, at times being down right goofy.

  His laughter grew more boisterous but she ignored him continuing to dance, apparently lost to the music. As he watched her, his heart swelled thinking about how much he loved her. He watched as her movements became more alluring and erotic. She began unbuttoning the pajama top revealing a black, lace push-up bra. She held the fridge door handle and lowered herself seductively to the floor and up again. She slowly removed the bottoms displaying a matching thong and garters wrapping around her thighs even though she wore no stockings. He was enchanted as she made her way to him. She stepped up onto the coffee table and proceeded to dance for him with the last item removed being her ridiculous bonnet.

  As she continued her private dance, she stood over him rhythmically pulsing her pelvis towards his face. It took every bit of restraint he had when she turned her back to him gyrating her hips in front of him. Her last act as the songs came to an end was straddling him with a powerfully erotic lap dance. When he tried to touch her, she swatted his hands away wagging her finger at him teasingly. As the blood coursed into his penis, it felt as if it was fighting for release from its confines to reach its place of comfort between her warm thighs and deep within her.

  When the music stopped, he reached for her and kissed her hungrily. He lifted her up and gently placed her on the coffee table spreading her legs over his shoulders. Pulling the thong to the side, he licked and nibbled at her clit as she raised her hips to meet his mouth. Dancing for him had aroused her as well, as her juices mixed with his saliva with each lick he made. Her body pulsed as her pleasure mounted. He loved to see her this way—eager, ready and hungry for him.

  He took hold of her thighs and moved her down closer to the edge of the coffee table where he kneeled. He moved his hands to her breasts, squeezing them as he continued to lick and move his tongue in and out of her. Her body began convulsing while her moans increased with her rising pleasure. He unzipped his pants, finally freeing himself and carefully repositioned himself on top of her hoping the coffee table could support them both.

  He moved her arms above her head and slid his penis inside her, savoring the moist warmth of her inner walls pulsing around him. Her entranced eyes were focused on him and she smiled as he slowly moved in and out of her. She whispered, “I belong to you.” Her unexpected words aroused him beyond compare. In that moment, he knew she was ready to go further and the thought of it all made him erupt inside her.

  November 12:

  Can’t believe we’ve been together for a year. I don’t think she realizes it because she hasn’t said anything about it. That’s one of the things I love about her—she’s sentimental, but not about things like anniversaries. It’s the everyday little things she appreciates and I try to do what I can for her. How can you love someone so completely and yet still want her more each day—is that even possible? I’m thinking it’s time for a trip to Lucille’s. Can’t wait to see what she looks like in leather, heels and a collar. Counting on her playful streak so it doesn’t freak her out.

  Lucille’s was a fetish shop in Old Town Alexandria known as a discreet hideaway for suburbanites eager to find the tools for all kinds of play. It catered to BDSM practitioners, swingers, the LBGT community or anyone else wishing to add a little spice to their relationships. It was a shop full of paddles, floggers, cats and other striking devices. It also had traditional dildos and other marital and sexual aids as well as books, videos and clothing for men and women. Michael never got into costume play, but certain outfits definitely had an appeal. When it came to his play, he loved to see women in leather or corseted gear with heels—the higher, the better.

  Under the guise of shopping for his mother’s birthday, he took her on a shopping adventure that included purchasing a number of items for her. Even though she was a little embarrassed when she realized what Lucille’s was, he could tell she was curious and intrigued by it all. Her eyes widened as she moved down the aisles taking in the variety of products and devices around her.

  She leaned in close to him and asked playfully, “So you want to see me in a little leather, huh?”

  “You have no idea,” he said coyly.

  It would take another week or so of talking candidly about what this type of exploration meant. He was patient with her questions even when she was a bit prickly about the subject or he wasn’t sure how best to respond. The truth was he had been engaging in BDSM for a few years, but there were still things he hadn’t resolved about it. Occasionally he still wrestled with feelings that what he enjoyed was too deviant. However, he also understood everything he did was consensual. With his increasing understanding came a degree of acceptance that he wasn’t morally corrupt because his sexual tastes were unconventional.

  As they lie in bed together, Janine stroked his chest before tracing her delicate fingers to his groin and back up again.

  “Is that why you’re shaved? I mean at first I thought you were just one of those men who didn’t have chest hair. And then we…you know. That first night we were together, I was a little surprised to see you didn’t have pubic hair.”

  He smiled at her bashful description and said, “I like being smooth. Keeps you from having to spit hairs out of your mouth.”

  “See? Sometimes you just say shit to see how I’m going to respond don’t you?” she said with her usual playfulness.

  “I love when you blush!” he said, as he rolled on top of her adding, “and I love watching you cum.”

  He stroked the side of her face before softly kissing her. He drew her bent leg forward before moving himself inside her with rhythmic shallow insertions. As good as it felt to be inside her, he steadied himself trying desperately to pace his own rising orgasm until she neared hers. “Say it,” he said to her, “tell me what you want.”

  Opening her eyes, he watched the intensity of her expression shift from titillation to something else. He could tell she was conflicted. There was a battle waging between her head, heart and body making forming her words difficult. He wanted her to say the words. He needed to hear them flow freely from her lips.

  Barely audible, she whispered, “I want you to make me cum.”

  He withdrew from her, his penis hovering close enough for her to feel him between her legs but denying her and said, “No…and no whispering. You know exactly what I mean. Let me hear you say it.”

  He could tell she was struggling with his request. She was having a much harder time saying these words to him than the time he asked her to show him how she masturbated the first time they had sex.

  “Ask me, Baby,” he said.

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

  “Yes you do. Do you want me to teach you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then say it.”

  “I want you to teach me Michael,” she said with unflinching resolve defying her earlier hesitancy. “Teach me how to be your Submissive.”

  As the words flowed from her, their power was unnerving. She had crossed a threshold with him requiring far more than any sexual act. Theirs was an emotional journey rooted in the most dangerous aspect of true intimacy—unwavering trust. Janine was giving herself to him and he was doing the same. He had not crossed that boundary with anyone. His heart and his play had always been separate worlds. But there was something about her—about them together—that made this all possible and desirable. His face softened considerably as he moved to enter her again and embrace her in all his love.

  CHAPTER 7

  January 11:

  Janine continues to surpri
se me. We’ve been playing for a couple of weeks and she is far more adventurous than I imagined. I feel like I have to stay on my game with her sometimes. She even initiates. She’s amazing. She’s everything.

  “Why do I need to keep my eyes down? Why can’t I look at you? It seems silly.”

  “Because it’s a submissive posture. It demonstrates your willingness to trust me,” he explained.

  “And to serve and obey you,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, but what if I want to make a move?” she asked as she got on all fours. She crawled across the floor towards him as he sat on the edge of the bed. “What if I want to do…oh I don’t know…do something like this?”

  Coming in close, she began nuzzling and licking his penis before making her way slowly up to his nipples and finally his ears. He loved the softness of her lips when she kissed him—regardless of the location.

  He inhaled before letting his breath escape gradually and letting out a low moan. “Then you have to ask permission before you touch me.”

  “And if I don’t ask permission?” she seductively asked continuing to kiss and nibble his ears and neck while rising to her feet.

  He closed his eyes relishing all her touches. Jesus! This Woman! He thought. She was equally skilled at arousing him with her touches and playfulness as he was with her.

  Leaning into her kisses, he moved his hands to her back slowly running his fingers down her spine towards her behind. He whispered, “Then you’ll have to be punished.“ Opening his eyes he swatted her hard on her butt.

  “Oww! That hurt!”

  “It was supposed to hurt,” he grinned mischievously. “You’re out of position, Janine.”

  She returned to her knees resting on her lower legs and just looked at him. He could tell she was processing all he’d said to her in this latest round of instruction. She cast her eyes down as she drifted into deep thought and her mood began to shift.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  “Is this how it’s going to be between us? This game? Is this our sex life now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean do I have to ask permission just to kiss you? Or when I want to make love with you?” There was a hint of distress he detected in her tone and it concerned him.

  He slipped off the bed and sat down on the floor next to her. He took her face in his hands and kissed her gently on the lips before saying, “No, of course not.”

  “Then how will I know when it’s okay to just be…normal?”

  There was that word— “normal.” As far as he was concerned, nothing they did was normal—it was exceptional. How they interacted with one another had become almost instinctual. He felt they had established a far more spiritual and meaningful connection than most of the couples he knew. It went beyond the trite completion of each other’s sentences other people boasted about. He and Janine certainly could anticipate each other’s likely responses, but they respected the individuality of their singular voices. They knew the other was capable of expanding their thoughts on any number of subjects so there was always the potential for a surprise.

  They supported the evolution of each other’s intellectual and emotional growth. And they appreciated the little things and idiosyncrasies about the other. He knew the little scar on her lower ankle was the result of a dog bite she sustained as a little girl. It was part of the reason she didn’t like dogs. He knew the purple birthmark on her hip was something she once considered hiding behind a tattoo. She never got it because she was fearful of the purported pain. For him, the addition of play was another example of all they had become and were becoming.

  “Normal?” he solemnly asked.

  “Maybe I picked the wrong word. I just want to make sure I understand what you expect from me now.”

  “I don’t expect anything from you. What you choose to share with me has always been your choice. My feelings about you won’t change if you decide you don’t want to go further.”

  “But if I did decide I don’t want to do this anymore, would you find someone else?”

  “I don’t want anyone else.”

  “Don’t you lawyer me, Michael Josey,” she said emphatically “That’s not what I asked you and you know it.”

  “Yes, it is. You’re basically asking me if I’d end our relationship if you don’t want to be a submissive. And the answer is I don’t want anyone else. I want you. So no…we don’t end, if this ends.”

  “But it’s a part of you,” she said softening considerably, “I know you’d resent me.”

  “That’s crazy, Janine. You’re a part of me—a far more important part,” he sighed heavily and asked, “Do you want to stop?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? Please be honest with me.”

  “Absolutely.” She scooted closer to him and wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms hung over his shoulders stroking the back of his head. Looking into his eyes she said softly, “I love the look of your face when we play. I love that I can make you feel like that.”

  “And how does it make you feel?”

  “Powerful…loved...and I know you belong to me.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  He did belong to her in every sense of the word. As he thought about it, it all seemed so contrary to reasoned thinking given their roles. Janine was the Sub, but he knew she was beginning to understand she was in fact the one with the power. Even if he wanted to initiate, she’d always be able to say no. She could resume their play anytime she wanted simply by her actions—whether flirty or overt. Perhaps more important, she’d be able to define her own limits even if his responsibility as her Dom was to help her expand them.

  As they sat entwined on the floor, he hugged her tightly before standing and helping her up to the bed. As she stood, her stomach grumbled a bit and she flushed with embarrassment.

  “Well that was a mood breaker, huh?” she giggled. “I guess we built up an appetite this afternoon.”

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “Yeah, actually I am. But I didn’t take anything out for dinner. Let’s get dressed and head over to U Street to get something to eat,” she said.

  “Let’s order in instead. I want you to stay just the way you are,” he said leering at her nakedness.

  “And why is that, freaky man?”

  “Because your lesson isn’t finished.”

  “Mmmm, is that so,” she said as she resumed licking and kissing his neck and ears. “And here I thought I was a fast learner.”

  “Oh you are…that’s why I want to see what else you’re capable of,” he said as his hunger for her began to build again. With each stroke of her tongue, he felt the subtle surge of blood making its way to his penis. “But first, you need to pick your safe word.”

  “My what?”

  “Safe word. I want you to pick something you can easily remember that’ll let me know to stop if we’ve gone past your physical or emotional comfort.”

  “Why can’t I just say, stop?”

  “You could, but this is something you’d say only for play.”

  “Well…what kind of things do people say?”

  “Red, but I want you to pick your own. Something that’s just between us.”

  “Hmmm. I don’t see the point.”

  “Really,” he said playfully before picking her up, dropping her on the bed and flipping her onto her stomach. It happened so unexpectedly she didn’t have time to respond. He straddled her hips holding her down and pinning her wrists to the bed. She struggled slightly, but he knew she couldn’t overpower him. He leaned into her and said, “I really didn’t like that tone. Your ass is mine. You know that, right?”

  “I suppose,” she replied flippantly.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she giggled.

  “Then give it to me.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She turned to look at him over her shoulder with a wanting glance before raising
her hips slowly and positioning herself onto her knees.

  Releasing her wrists, he ensured her upper body stayed low by putting his hand on her back. He began rubbing his penis against her ass letting it linger between her cheeks before lifting onto his knees. Using his free hand, he smacked her hard on the ass with his fingertips. She flinched slightly, adjusted and let out a low grunt. Without a word between them, he struck her again shaping his palm and fingers to land in such a way it increased the intensity. He wasn’t sure how many times he struck her, but her smooth ass began to generate considerable heat and take on a purplish hue. With the increasing power of his strikes, she finally gasped but never cried out.

  He watched her carefully as she took hold of the sheets each time he struck her harder. It was clearly her attempt to disperse the pain she was experiencing. He could tell she was nearing her limit so he drew back his hand and struck her with significant force.

  She cried out, “I yield to you, Sir!”

  The phrasing was far different than he expected and unlike any other he had heard before. It was an organic yet thoughtful response and he knew she’d remember it. Releasing her, he ran his fingers along her spine down to her ass. Using both hands, he gently massaged it, squeezing lightly. Then slowly moving his fingers towards her vagina he explored her outer folds before penetrating her inner walls. In and out his slid his fingers as she writhed to his finger fucking.

  Covered in her juices, he withdrew his fingers and carefully slid his middle finger into her ass. Instead of clenching, she began to relax until he knew she was ready. Shifting from his knees, he planted one foot beside her leg before guiding his penis into her ass. They both let out deep moans of pleasure. He loved fucking her—it didn’t matter whether it was vaginally or anally—both had appeals of their own. Both had muscles that expanded and contracted around his dick with each stroke he made. But her ass was not nearly as warm or wet as her pussy. Still, the friction and coolness of each insertion brought its own level of pleasure for them both.