As Ethan leaned down to pour her some more wine she noticed the fuzz on his head again, and decided to ask about it this time. “You were bald when I first saw you, now you’ve got some fuzz coming in. Did you shave your head for the fight?”
He nodded but didn’t elaborate so she kept talking. “Why? Men don’t normally do the hair pulling thing in fights.”
“From my conversations with Tom since the fight, it sounds like you figured out a big part of my strategy is mental – psyching out my opponent.” He grinned and ran his hand over his head, “Apparently I look more intimidating without hair. I’ve seen pictures of you after your title fight and your hair was shorter than it is now. I think we all tend to pair things back when we’re training for a big fight. Mean and lean and all that.”
“Where did you see pictures?”
“Tom has one of you on the wall of his office, taken during the fight, but I also found some old news and magazine articles online that featured you as the winner.”
“You looked me up online? Why?”
He smiled, not at all embarrassed. “I’ve been intrigued by you from day one. The more I’ve learned about you, the more fascinated I’ve become.”
Uncomfortable with where the conversation was going, she steered it off into another direction. “Is that a tan, or are you naturally dark? It looked pretty even when you took your shirt off.” She grinned. “Not that I was noticing, or anything.”
“Of course not,” he drawled, a twinkle in his eye as he let a bit of his Georgia accent through. He took a sip of his wine and continued. “My great-grandfather was from China. One of my grandmothers is from Jamaica and the other grandmother is from Puerto Rico. Everyone else in the family tree seems to be German or Irish, with a few Italians thrown in for good measure. It’s like I’m one big melting pot all by myself.”
“I’ve never seen a melting pot as beautiful as you before,” she said, blushing as she realized how she sounded. She needed to recover from being embarrassed, so she quickly followed up with, “Do you speak any languages besides English?”
He shook his head. “I took the required two years of Spanish in college, but I can’t really speak it. What about you?”
“I’ve done a lot of travelling around the world, and apparently I pick up languages easier than most. I’m not really fluent in any of them, but I can order food and shop and ask for directions in about a half a dozen languages.”
They talked until three in the morning, and when she fell asleep mid-conversation, Ethan picked her up and took her to bed, rousing her enough to get her pants off, but leaving everything else in place. Sam woke up around six in the morning, used the bathroom and changed into her oversized shirt and shorts before getting back into bed and quickly falling asleep again. Ethan had made arrangements the night before so he wouldn't have to go into work, and Sam's plans for the day had involved grocery shopping and working out – both of which seemed pretty optional under the circumstances.
The next time Sam awakened the clock read 8:47 and she smelled bacon. She stumbled to the bathroom to empty her bladder again and brush her teeth, decided to run a brush through her hair while she was at it, then headed to the kitchen. The cabin was a great room with kitchen, dining area, and living room combined; one bedroom; one large well-appointed bathroom; and the huge porch with a hot tub. It truly seemed to be a vacation rental cabin, and she wondered what it was costing him to rent it long term. She made the bed and went into the kitchen.
“You're up. Welcome to Saturday morning, sleeping beauty. I guess we'll forgo breakfast in bed since you aren't in bed anymore.” He pointed to a cabinet. “Dishes are in there if you want to go ahead and set the table. We'll be ready to eat in about five minutes – how did you sleep?”
“Like a log.”
He turned and looked at her a second and then went back to turning the bacon. “You got up at some point to change clothes. I'm usually a light sleeper; my subconscious must really trust you to have not awakened me when you got up.”
Sam started to comment, but changed her mind. Most people were distrustful of attorneys on principle, and it was nice to have someone say she was trustworthy right off the bat, but bringing it up made it sound as if maybe he shouldn’t be trusting her. A change of subject, then. “What made you decide to start a moving company?”
“I worked at one starting in high school; paid my way through college doing it on the weekends and summers. I got a business degree and figured I should start a business I already knew about. I had years of watching what other companies did right and observing what they were doing wrong. Seemed like a no-brainer. What made you decide to be a divorce lawyer?”
“Originally I was going to be a civil rights attorney, be a champion for the constitution, but somewhere along the way I guess I took a right turn. I'm happy with the way it turned out. I love my job most days, and am only annoyed with it on the days I don't love it. I'm good enough I can turn clients down if I don't want to represent them, and I'm not shy about it if I think they’re being unreasonable. I'm known for being an advocate for joint custody when both parents are mature enough to handle it, and for sole custody when one parent can't be an adult – with custody going to the parent who is being the grown up. I'm not picky about whether it’s the mom or the dad, so I have a lot of men come to me when they’re trying for joint custody of their kids. Sometimes I get to show people how it can work, two people who thought there had to be a winner and a loser, and I get to show them another possibility.”
He was quiet, appearing to be mulling her words over as he pulled the bacon from the pan and put it onto a plate lined with paper towels. They worked together in companionable silence, and Sam was just about finished setting the table when Ethan spoke again. “I have a two person Sea-Doo; wanna take it out for a while this morning? I may even let you drive it some.”
“You mean like a jet-bike thing? Sure, sounds fun, but I didn't bring a bathing suit.”
He shrugged. “We can stop at the bottom of the mountain and buy you one, or we can run by your house and grab one. Be quicker to buy one, but I'm okay either way.”
“Sure I can buy one. There’s a Wal-Mart at the bottom of the mountain, right? I can get some sunscreen while I'm at it, too. Do you have a lot of expensive toys?”
“Says the woman with the Mercedes SLK?”
She grinned. “Point taken. I needed something that screamed successful attorney, worth what I charge. And I wanted something fun to drive. Two birds, one stone.”
* * * *
She bought a boring one piece bathing suit, wondering if he was challenging her, testing her to see if she would be too good for a Wal-Mart bathing suit. She chose a one-piece suit because two-piece suits just aren't practical when you're going that fast. She'd learned while waterskiing years ago how high impact crashes could rip a bathing suit top right off, never to be seen again.
They rode for hours – him driving a while, then her driving a while, swapping out a dozen or so times, kissing when they stopped. The person in back holding onto the driver, but the touch being an undercurrent, a part of the fun. When they finally headed back to Ethan's place, Sam was exhausted and hoped he was okay with the idea of a nap. She was wondering whether to suggest a nap or say it was time for her to go home when he spoke.
“How about we stop at the bottom of the mountain and get Chinese takeout and then go to my place and shower before eating?”
“Yeah, I don't want to eat with this dried river water on me. If you throw a nap in after we eat, it sounds perfect.”
* * * *
Sam was awakened by kisses on the side of her neck, and as she came out of her sleep-fog she realized she was spooned up against the front of Ethan. His chest to her back, his cock hard against her left ass cheek.
“Tell me you want me.” His voice was deeper than normal, the vibrations sliding over her skin just ahead of the heat of his breath.
She closed her eyes a few seconds, thinking about
it, realizing she was ready. “I want you.”
“My way?”
“As long as I can talk, I think so.”
“Are you on the pill?”
She shook her head. “No, the hormones screw with me. I've got an IUD, but you'll need to use a condom for now.”
He kissed her neck. “Okay. Since you'll be talking, everything you say must have a Sir in it somewhere, no punishment threat at this time, you'll do it to show who we are to each other. Our first time will start out, and possibly end, as something close to vanilla. I need to learn your body before I'm too rough with it. Our second time will not be vanilla in any shape or form, and it will happen shortly after the first time.”
His hand went to her breast, caressing it through the oversized shirt she was wearing, the sensations shooting straight through her.
“We have too many clothes on. Would you like to stand and strip, or should I rip your clothes off?”
“Um, I can stand and strip, Sir.”
“Then you should do so.”
She unwound herself from his arms and gracefully rolled out of bed, landing on her feet. He was watching her, his eyes like a tiger's, following his prey. She crossed her arms and grabbed the bottom of her shirt with both hands before raising her arms and pulling the shirt off over her head, casually letting it drop to the floor. She hadn't slept in a bra, so this left her standing there in only her shorts with panties on under them. Reaching for the waistband of the shorts, she made sure she had the waistband of the panties as well before quickly stripping them off and standing back up, naked.
She moved to get back into bed but he said, “No. Stay where you are.”
He stood on his side of the bed and pulled his shorts off. She didn't know if there had been underwear or not. If so, he’d done as she had and pulled everything off all at once. He had the biggest cock she'd ever seen. Like the rest of him, it was bigger than life.
Sam felt her eyes getting big as she stuttered out, “You're... that’s not... I don't think you're going to fit, Ethan.”
His eyes softened, no hint of the sadist in them at all. “It's why I said the first time would resemble vanilla. Trust me, okay? We'll make it fit. The width just takes time to work up to, but not all women can take all of my length, and that's okay. Let me learn what you can take. Do you trust me to make it good for you?”
His cock was bigger around than her fist at its widest point. She had no idea how he was going to fuck her without hurting her but... hey, wasn't that kind of the point? Wow, a sadist with the perfect tool.
“It’d be a bitch for someone who wasn't a sadist to have a cock like yours, wouldn't it? Sir?”
He didn't smile. “I can fuck you without being a sadist; it's possible to make it about pleasure and not pain. There will be pleasure and pain our first time, and our second time will be soon after the first, when you're still ready for it. The second time will be rough. Please trust me, Samantha.”
She took a deep breath. “Of course I trust you. You've shown me you’re interested in knowing how I'm dealing with the pain you've given me, the way you reacted to the yellow and red hand signals – thank you. And deciding to cut short the tawse because you weren't sure it was a good idea, it was a good call. You've taken care of my bruises several times, and the cream you've used seems to really be helping. Even without Kirsten telling me you'd learned from the best and are a stand-up guy, I’d trust you. Sir.”
He smiled. “Good. No restraints this time. Strip the bed of the blankets and the top sheet and get into it. I want to see you offer yourself to me.”
She did as instructed, positioning herself in the center of the bed on her back in the shape of an X. Hoping it was what he was looking for.
“Knees by your shoulders. Offer your pussy to me, Samantha. I've seen you stretch out in the dojo, I know you're flexible – show me.
She bent her knees and lifted her feet off the bed, aiming them up past her head, reaching up with her hands to grab her feet and straightening her legs out. She knew he could see everything she had like this, knew she was spread open, and had never felt so vulnerable. She looked up into his eyes, saw he was looking at her face and not her pussy.
“Thank you. You're beautiful. That's the offer I was looking for. I won't ask you to hold this too much longer, but keep holding for me.” He got onto the bed and kneeled below her, touching both of her ankles and running his hands along the backs of her legs and down to her pussy.
Sam almost came unglued at the sensations. It was all she could do to hold position and not squirm away. “It's too much, Ethan, Sir. It's too much!”
“You took the cane like a pro, but you can't handle my hand running down the back of your leg?”
She shook her head no, using her eyes to plead with him. He smiled at her and gave her a more firm touch with his hands, running them from ankle to crotch.
“Better?”
“Yes, thank you, Sir. That's nice.”
He reached up and grabbed her ankles. “Bend your knees. Now put your arms in front of your legs, hook your knees over them… yes, perfect. Keep them out to the side for me. Can you hold this position a while?”
The position was surprisingly comfortable, so she nodded in the affirmative. He kept looking at her, expectantly. Ah. He wanted it verbally. “Yes, Sir.”
The expectant look went away, but he was still all business. “You'll tell me when you’re getting close to an orgasm, and I'll either give you permission to come, or I won't. Since you say you've had minimal training in orgasm control there will be no punishment for orgasming without permission today, but I expect you to tell me when you are close. I will either give permission or help you not come. Tell me you understand.”
“I understand, Sir.”
He spent the next fifteen or twenty minutes alternating fingers and mouth, giving both her pussy and clit a lot of attention. He spread her out with his fingers, gently manipulating her, stretching and moving and molding her the way he wanted her. She felt her pussy widening, stretching open more and more and more. She wanted to come a few times, but when she told him she was getting close he backed off until the urge went away. Each time it was harder and it took longer for it to go away.
When at last he removed his fingers, rolled on a condom, and got into position, she was ready to explode, but she still looked at his cock doubtfully, not at all sure he was going to fit himself into her. He put extra lube on the condom and leaned over her. “Put your feet on my shoulders, Samantha. Push with them if you want me to slow down. No kicking or I'll take charge of them,” he said, placing them so they were right on his pecs, “but you can give me feedback by pushing me away when you think it's too much.”
He lined up and began to slowly and steadily push himself in, looking into her eyes as he sank into her, the head enormous as it went in, but spongier, so she could tell when the head was past and the hard length of his cock began to enter. She was thankful he'd added extra lube as he slid into her, looking into her eyes until she felt as if her very soul were naked before him, but in the process, making himself vulnerable, too. She could see into his soul, she could see the restraint he was using, could see he wanted to thrust, wanted to take her all at once. She'd had her feet placed firmly on his chest, but she relaxed them, showing him she could take it. He didn't increase his speed, he kept himself in control, continued to go slowly, using what appeared to be an iron control to regulate his speed.
And then he hit bottom, hit her cervix, and her feet did what he'd obviously intended them to do, began pushing, trying to make him stop. He quickly pulled back a few inches before dropping his hips lower, closer to the bed without going deeper, and began to go in again at a different angle, aiming up more, towards her belly button instead of going straight in. A bit faster this time, but not much, and he slowed down again when he must have been at the same depth he'd hit her cervix the last time. But this time, he could keep going. When he reached the end and began pushing past it, he wasn't hi
tting her cervix and she could deal with it.
She looked at him and smiled, but he didn't smile back. Just kept pushing until once again he was suddenly too deep and she was pushing with her feet and gasping in pain. He pulled back a bit and reached for her legs, dropping her right leg down to the bed, and lining her left leg up so it crossed his chest and went over the opposite shoulder. Her body was twisted, with him inside of her, and once again he began the inexorable push in, going slowly. Amazingly, this time he kept going until she felt his body bumping up against the outside of her pussy. When he was all the way in he looked at her and said, “This good for you?”
She nodded. She'd never been in this position before, it was... odd. But it worked, and he was all the way in. He began to pull out and go back in. Slowly at first, an inch out and an inch in. He gradually picked up speed and momentum. It hurt and burned and she didn't want it to end as they looked into each other’s eyes and he claimed her, fucking her with his massive cock, taking her like no one had ever managed to take her before. She heard thunder rumbling in the distance and suddenly knew she was close to coming.
“Sir, Ethan, please… I'm close!” She'd almost messed up; he wanted her to tell him when she was close, but not to ask to come. She hadn't understood the distinction at first, but it was a huge difference. He was so precise about vocal stuff, it was a new kind of D/s experience for her, and she wasn't sure yet if she liked it. In some ways, the control was more pervasive than she thought she was comfortable with, but in other ways she loved how he was doing these things to her, altering the thinking part of her mind as well as the non-thinking parts.
“I don't think I can stop it, Sir, I'm very close!”
“Then come for me, Samantha, come on my cock.”
He went in and held and she did as instructed, her muscles clamping down on him for all they were worth. He was so big. She thought she had adjusted to accommodate his size, but realized that wasn't the case when she was orgasming around him, her muscles wanting to contract around his cock, but his cock not allowing them any room to move. She screamed at the sensations, trying to breathe, and they locked eyes once again, her orgasm draining out of her into his cock, her soul locked onto his through their eyes. He pulled out a few inches and said, “Roll on over with your upper body, the goal is to end up on knees and elbows.”
Safeword: Matte Page 5
