by R. Greco
“You’re deep in the shit now,” Jon said his voice returning to normal.
I just knew he had come. The mystery for me was what exact moment of what I was saying or doing or reacting to had gotten him off? That idea alone would fuel masturbatory fantasies for me for months, I knew. I’d play the script of what we had done over and over in my daydreams as I had been everything we had said and done to one another up to this point.
The difference now was I wouldn’t orgasm over anything now.
“My pussy is really starving.”
“Wait ‘til next time when I make you use the dildo and not let you come.”
I began to actually shiver then.
“Jon,” was all I could manage.
“Kay.”
“This is too good, really,” I panted, looking down at my white self in the wan light from a bright full moon outside and streetlights at this end of my cul-de sac.
“Wonder when we’re just gonna have a normal conversation about the weather,” he quipped.
I realized we were long overdue, but in a way even this suggestion was sexual. If Jon and I did talk about such mundane things, and we had and did, the question of when he might let me would be hanging in the air now more so then it ever had. I knew that there would come a time when we tempered all this sexual stuff with ‘normal’ conversation or there would come a time when we realized we didn’t want to, but as of yet we were reveling perfectly in the sexual. Did I want more from a man who lived three-thousand plus miles from me? Truth be told, I wasn’t so sure I did. Jon was certainly in my head and I cared a great deal for him, but the simple truth was we seemed to be riding high on the ups and downs of what we were learning about each other sexually, to the exclusion of anything else presently.
As with all things I would simply let the progression, if there was one, take us where it would. It wasn’t as much a Zen philosophy with me as much as a humbleness knowing I could not more affect how Jon wanted to be with me as I could snap my fingers and get him here, even if that was what I really wanted.
“How is the weather?” I chuckled.
“Fuckin’ New Jersey humidity,” Jon answered, shuffling and fumbling a bit. I sat down on my couch, legs spread cooling my pussy as best I could.
6.
Terri.
My best group of girlfriends were a pack of five including me, not exactly a Cougar club, but all only a few years from the big four-oh. Two divorced (one with a kid), two never married and one married but looking for trouble, among us Terri was the youngest at thirty seven, one of the never-married, but a wild little filly-of-a-thing with a long face, piercing blue eyes and an ass you could chip your tooth on. Really, she was a sexy little petite rose and had made intimations, on more than one occasion, how she wanted to get closer to me, even though I knew she was, is and would always be resolutely hetero.
My bisexuality is not something I discussed with ‘the girls’ all that often, if ever at all, but they all knew about it. I got the sense pretty quickly that none of them cared really…which is as it should be with friends; you kinda take each other off-the-rack, and don’t delve unless someone lets you to. We were close in ways only women in their thirties really can become (I had known some of these girls near a decade) we simply let most of the drama go. If we hadn’t, and acted like a lot of women I came in contact with, at work, the market, all over town really, we wouldn’t have stayed as close as we were. At the least I would have bagged long ago, last fucking thing I needed was those kind of women in my life.
But Terri sweet here, she presented drama with a capital ‘AMA’.
Through-out my marriage there had been only a handful of times that Paul and I had even entertained the idea of another person in our bed, man or woman, and though we had made polite inquiries of possible partners-without them ever knowing exactly what we were inquiring about-we never got the nerve up to engage Paul’s somewhat passing interest in being cuckolded or mine to relive some of my illustrious lesbianism. But I had dabbled enough before my marriage, and though a lot less since, to know when a woman found me attractive, setting the ground work for a come-on, or throwing a hard line down-the-middle-baseline, pass.
Terri had thrown passes enough in the two years I had known her that I knew enough never to be alone with the girl unless I wanted to find myself in the middle of either having to refuse her advances or take her in a ‘game on’ moment. She always complimented me in how I dressed (dark blouses, medium length skirts and boots to her pale prints, low heels and summer dresses) and always made it a point to ride with or next to me to and from our hang-out destinations. I felt her stares, I was tickled by how she often brushed by me or how she wiggled in her low cut blouses to shimmy and shake what seemed like perfectly round B’s in my face. I presided over more than one of her late-night ruminations about a new boyfriend and watched as she digested my opinions more than she did anyone else’s. But I also knew Terri had never been with another woman and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be her first.
First and foremost, I hadn’t been considering any other pussy lately other then my own, thank you very much. I hadn’t engaged in any gay sex for at least six months and even then it hadn’t been any of the knock-out drag out stuff I had had before my marriage. It wasn’t that I still didn’t have those tendencies, I still considered myself a bi-woman for want of a better label, and God knew Terri was a honey, but really I wasn’t in that world anymore.
Secondly, I wasn’t so sure about Terri. She was a merciless flirt, a girl who needed attention 24/7 and never seemed satisfied with the men who passed in and out of her life certainly giving her plenty of time and attention and considerable bubbles and beads as far as I was concerned. I couldn’t exactly reason her reasons for wanting me, beyond letting my conceit rise, so I was leery to say the least where a fling might bring us, her not really being bi and me not relishing the jealousy I often spied in her when anyone’s attention did not light upon her pretty brunette head. Third, there was Jon, though not a question of faithfulness (I had seen the wonderful result of sleeping with Jack) but simply Jon was playing with a part of me I liked very much, a part where I explored my pussy and no one else’s, because of the power, albeit subsequently, of his cock.
I knew I’d end up being really dominant if I took Terri to my bed. This would be a different role-play then the one I adopted with Joel and Fred, a pose, patter and head trip of being their queen that we has established well before any real thoughts (at least action) of my own submissiveness had come into play. No, I knew if I was with Terri I’d fall back to the hard-hitting, strap-on wielding, bitch-ass top I had been when I had been fucking girls way back when. To be sure, I had been quite the aggressor with most of the women and men I had been with post Paul (my celebrated P.P. period as I called it) but I wasn’t so specifically sure that was an attitude that served me now to even think of, let alone execute. I knew the other side of the coin, it was one of the reasons I could be such a willing sub to Jon now, but if I took Terri to my bed I could only engage my bisexual side if I topped her.
She was a virgin to sex with girls; I’d be turning her out. If nothing else, that dynamic gave me the upper hand. Secondly, by just sheer physicality, Terri was a little girl; I was considerably hip-ier, bustier and more aggressive in my persona, even with my BFFGF’s here it was I who corralled them, made the plans, etc. Third, I wasn’t so sure it would be a good time overall. I could use a night to stretch my wings (pink ones) and I’d like to see her naked for sure, but it would all fall on my shoulders to seduce the girl and I wasn’t so sure I was up for it. Sure, I could keep to the no come rule, as I knew I never would with Terri since she would never eat my pussy, let alone touch it, unless I forced her to. But in the end me taking her, whether it was me eating her pussy, spanking her ass or plowing her with a dildo, would be more an exercise in Terri finally seeing what it was like to be with a girl and me getting some satisfaction from dusting off some old techniques.
But she
was coming on strong and I was more than a bit buzzed.
“So Jersey is coming out when?” she asked after finishing off her second beer of the hour.
To most my BFFGF’s here, Jon was ‘Jersey’. To be sure I had related more to Jack, even Joel and Fred, then I had to yet to this group, even Lisa, my best friend of the five, our married lady out looking for trouble. I guess it was just easier relating to a man about my submission then these four, even Lisa. I didn’t mind even all that much, but somehow the guys in my life asked the right questions, the girls tended to pry in ways I simply wasn’t up for. We were close, like I said, but girls were girls.
“Hopefully soon,” I sang and took a long pull.
The five of us could get dressed in heels, boots and all kind of finery for a night out as much as just put on jeans, sandals and sneaks and do a local tavern crawl. We had all decided on the ladder for this Friday night, that very same sports bar Jack and I had had our last Monday night in. It was a nice mellow evening, or had been until Terri sauntered up to me, out of ear shot of the other three.
“Oh he will baby, he will,” she said, and tickled my forearm with her cold hand.
I was both repelled and excited by Terri’s good natured faux caring, not a good combination when I was trying to quell thoughts of bitch-top dominance. She did care, I knew that, but a lot of what came out of her pretty mouth was well-worn placating, as if she said exactly what she thought should be said and not what she felt. It’s not like she could help it, she was built, wired and rolled selfish, we all knew it and accepted for it. This is exactly what made me want to push her face down on my bed, spread her ass and give it to her good while she pleaded with me not to.
“To tell you the truth, three thousand miles separating is perfect for Jon and I.”
“Really?” she said leaning in closer.
Whether my admission was fodder for her to inquire further or an opening, I knew I hadn’t meant either. But Terri was certainly making a more than obvious play for me this evening. If she could get any closer, she’d have been behind me!
“Ter, where we going with this, baby?” I asked and managed to lift my beer bottle between us for another pull. I threw my head back, finished it off then plunked the bottle to the top of the end of the service bar where she had me cornered.
“Wha…” she tried and I lean in a breath away, checked around us and planted a kiss on Terri’s sweet little mouth.
“Kay!” she squealed.
“This is my one time offer,” I said whispering close to Terri’s wide-eyed, gapped-mouth pose, “take it or leave it. Tonight you come home with me and let me have my way with you.”
I hadn’t yet decided exactly what having my way with this girl would entail, but I wanted to put an end to all this flirting and flittering in and around what she was really thinking and feeling. Maybe I was hornier than usual, seeing as it had been two days since I last spoke with Jon and I was now well into the week of my first denial period. Maybe I was just bored, or maybe the little sundress Terri was wearing made her nipples pop just enough to really excite me. Whatever the reason, I was ready to take Terri tonight, relieve some steam and traipse back to the garden of Earthly women delights if this girl could get the guts up.
I don’t know how we managed it, but Terri and I left the bar with nary an eyebrow raised from my friends. Lisa had driven us all tonight in her SUV, so leaving her, Angie and Marcie was no big deal, in fact the trio well into a game of darts they’d not soon leave. My house was within walking distance-which was served Terri and I well since we were both a little buzzed-and it wasn’t so unusual for any two or three of us to light out for my place when we were at this particular watering hole to either get some air or to have a pee in private. Many a time I had walked home a good half hour before the girls and started omelets for a late night snack and further drinking to commence at my place.
Terri and I walked in silence.
We made my place in under ten minutes and once again I didn’t turn on the lights when I opened the door. The thin girl had been here plenty of times so it was no big deal her circling in the wan moonlight through my front room but I am sure Terri was plenty surprised when I lay another kiss on her, this time getting her in a tight embrace and thrusting my tongue down here throat. I didn’t want to appear indelicate but the night was a awaistin’ as far as I was concerned and UI didn’t know how long I had until Terri pulled the plug on the whole scene.
“Just kissing, ok?” she said as I finally came off her, “just kissing this time?”
Like there’d be another time, I thought.
“Come ‘ere honey,” I said, leading Terri to my couch.
Sitting down the girl more or less folded herself around me. I got my legs up over Terri’s hips and lay side by side with her rubbing chests as we really began to kiss in earnest.
I don’t know if it was me being rusty, cautious that I was French-kissing Terri, or that I was trying to abide by her wishes, but we didn’t get off the couch. We simply made-out for twenty minutes, then rolled and shifted until we were both standing. I was all but ready to let Terri go, get our now pretty-much-sober selves back down to the bar, but a thought did come to me suddenly in the haze that was my dissipating buzz and my hot crotch.
As usual I couldn’t get my eyes of off Terri’s firm little ass.
“Um, ya wanna do me a favor?”
“Sure,” Terri said, adjusting her dress for the third time.
“Step over there to my window sill, will ya?”
Terri did as I asked, coming to stand in front of my big bay living room window.
“Put your hands on the sill.”
“Kay,” she said but did as I asked, in affect now thrusting her bottom back to me - just as I wanted her to do – and facing my front porch through the glass.
“Now ya gotta trust me here, ok?” I said, closed the distance between us, spread my heels and squatted down the back of the girl.
Terri didn’t do much but lean in closer, not exactly aware what I was about to do, but seeming to trust me behind her. I got the bottom of her dress in my hands, then stood slowly bringing it up with me, exposing first the backs of the girl’s smooth tanned claves, the deep cupped back of her knees, then the fine upper backs of her thighs, then as I came to stand fully, I stood back a step to reveal her little ass halved by a tight purple thong.
“Now that’s a sight,” I said holding Terri’s dress to her lower back as she smiled over her shoulder and thrust her bottom back even further.
I stood back and traced my free hand down across her goose-fleshed cheeks. By now I was all but completely smunked in my panties, so I tickled the girl some more as she lean into the window and the moonlight shown perfectly her round little ass. Managing my free middle dinger down the crack of her ass I tickled the line of Terri’s thong and she moaned even more then she had when we had been kissing.
This all felt good, right a direct, not exactly with me being super dom bitch but still pressing in a way where I controlled the situation. I was making nice here, metering the seduction, almost as if I was assured of another time with this girl when I was damn assured nothing if the kind. Sure, Terri and I were well beyond kissing here, and God knew I wanted nothing more in the entire world then to push my hot little squishy clit up against this equally hot little bottom before me, but as I caught that unmistakable scent of Terri’s pussy in the air, as she arched her back and began rolling her head across her pretty little neck I stepped off her and let the back of her dress fall.
Chapter Three: The Master’s “Little” Toy
1
Fred was feeding his chocolate cock ever so slowly in and out of Joel’s perfect lips. I could hear Terri’s vibrator as she massaged it across her clit, and Jack had just come for the second time that day. Was I Buffy, living over a hell-mouth – although mine was purely sexual, not puking vampires – if I left my house with so much sexual animus leaking out my pours would the mailman take one look at
me, drop trou and start jerking it before he even made my front door!
All the chickens I knew had come to roost and I blamed Jon for all of it.
It was the Saturday of my first week (was it my first and only, I had no idea) of orgasm denial. I had spoken to Jon nearly every night and he wickedly put me through my paces, coaxing me to diddle my clit or lift a breast to my mouth, sing-song his commands and ask me to repeat our well-worn litany with me talking in my little girl voice, but he hadn’t yet let me come. That I hadn’t just orgasmed involuntarily or that I hadn’t masturbated when out of his ear shot was as much a testament to how much I wanted to obey the man as it was how I couldn’t do anything but.
Funny thing about orgasm denial, or at least what I was learning of it, was that although the first few days had been hell, especially with Jon’s nightly phone calls, by just past Thursday morning I found I was enjoying that roll-up-stuck-on-the-precipice-dangling (what I had read was called ‘edging’) as I would have had Jon let me release. This was a most exquisite torture, seemingly part and parcel to my further study as his sub and I was loving every blessed minute of it.
This pent-up I had sent a dirty email that very morning to Jack, had answered Terri’s text about meeting her and the girls for dinner with an inquiry about her vibrator and bade Joel and Fred get on cam for me knowing they had had snuck an uncharacteristic sleep-over the night before. I was a’light, a fire, a tickle and a’tangle with a deep ache and even though I couldn’t masturbate over Terri’s moaning and low hum, Fred just went right on fucking Joel’s mouth without me even tickling and re-reading Jack’s email had made my bounce in my seat and nothing more, I was loving how sexual the world seemed to me right then.
