Letting Go (Letting Go Series #1)

by Prussing, S. T.

  Sir is in no hurry. He takes his time, running the vibrator slowly up and down the inside of my right thigh and then my left. A pleasant tingling sensation begins to radiate through my groin. The feeling intensifies when he begins touching the vibrator to my wet, slippery lips.

  He uses the toy like a master, coming oh so close to my clit, circling around it again and again without ever touching it. The heat inside me grows, along with a yearning for release. Sir is very patient, though—much more patient than I am. He continues rubbing the vibrator up and down the outside of my sex, covering every sensitive inch—every inch except for the one spot that’s the center of my pleasure.

  When he finally presses the vibrator against my clit, pulsating waves of pleasure shoot through me. The mounting excitement is almost more than I can stand. My hands clench the sheets as I feel my orgasm welling up inside me, a giant wave ready to crash over me. I can barely stand it. My hard fought control vanishes.

  “Oh, my god!” I moan. “I’m so close… I’m going to come!”

  “No you’re not,” Sir says, and just like that, he pulls the vibrator away.

  What the fuck? Why did he stop? The wave that was about to carry me away begins to recede.

  “Please don’t stop,” I beg him. “Not now… please.”

  He ignores my plea and moves the vibrator to my left nipple. It feels good, but nothing like when it was pressed against my clit. A single phrase from his ad pops into my head. Orgasm control. Until this moment, I had no idea what that truly meant. I’ve given him control over this most intimate part of my being—and I have no fucking idea what he’s going to do with it.

  He returns the vibrator to my pussy, repeating the process all over again, stimulating every part of my sex except my swollen clit. When he finally touches the toy to my clit, the wave begins to well up inside me once again. As my excitement mounts, I press my lips together, determined to remain silent this time, to give him no clue when I’m about to come. The pleasure inside me soars to unimagined heights. Here it comes….

  Sir pulls the vibrator away.

  Nooooo… not again!

  How does he do it? How does he know the exact, excruciating moment to stop?

  I don’t know what to do. Should I beg him again? Should I remain silent? It’s hard to think clearly when he’s just taken me to the brink of the most intense orgasm of my life and then yanked me away from it. Maybe I should just kill him and take the vibrator for myself. The idea has some definite appeal right now.

  Before I can contemplate the details of his murder, the vibrator is back on my clit, and thinking becomes even more difficult. Once again, the wave rises up inside me as he skillfully massages my clit with the tip of the vibrator. This time, it’s not just a wave. It’s a tidal wave, an erupting volcano, a rushing hurricane—all combined into one titanic force threatening to engulf me.

  This time, Sir does not stop. My orgasm explodes inside me, again and again and again….

  CHAPTER 13

  Four hours later, I’m sitting at my computer, preparing to complete an assignment for a man whose face I’ve still never seen.

  After I recovered from my orgasm, Sir gave me a warm, wet washcloth to clean his cum off my face and neck. Still blindfolded, I wiped myself as carefully as I could. He was nice enough to tell me I missed a spot just beneath my ear. When I was clean, he handed me my clothes and underwear and allowed me to dress myself sitting on his bed rather than on the floor, so I guess that was a promotion of sorts. He guided me to the door, gave me my assignment, and told me not to turn around when he removed my blindfold. He kissed me hard on the lips, spun me around, and pulled off the blindfold. Just before I walked out the door—on legs that were still a bit wobbly—he told me I’d been a very good girl. Without turning around, I thanked him for everything and left.

  The “very good girl” echoed in my head all the way home!

  My assignment is to write him an email telling him my reaction to my experience, in as much detail as I can. He told me to wait at least a few hours to let things sink in before starting my note, so I fixed myself a dinner I barely remember eating and then enjoyed a long hot bubble bath. While I soaked, I ran over my time with Sir again and again.

  Now, I think I’m ready.

  Dearest Sir,

  Today was almost indescribable, yet you’ve asked me to describe it for you, and so I must. “Must”—I never realized it was such a complex word. It means I have to because you commanded me to, but “must” also means I want to, badly, because I know it will please you. And pleasing you has become terribly important to me. So I will do my best. Please bear with me as I try to put my thoughts into words. I know you will understand how difficult this is for me.

  So, here I go.

  Today was amazing. Today was incredible. It was scary and exciting and nerve-wracking and exhilarating. It was challenging, rewarding, terrifying, educating and fulfilling—more fulfilling by far than anything I’ve ever known. It was the most sensual and sexual thing I’ve ever experienced—and you never even fucked me. Today was satisfying beyond anything I could ever have imagined, and yet strangely, it was unsatisfying, too. Not in any bad way, I assure you. Not really. Unsatisfying because I know there is more ahead for me, much more. More ways that I can please you, more things you can do to take pleasure from me. Things I’m already greedily imagining, as well as things I can’t even begin to imagine. But I know YOU can imagine them, and that you will go beyond just imagining them. All of which brings me back to scary and exciting.

  I trust you will understand what I’ve written so far, attempting to describe the indescribable in a general way. You ordered me to be specific, too, so of course I will be.

  You were right to make sure we never met before today. Blindfolded and not knowing what you look like allowed me to experience you with all my other senses: the sound of your voice and breathing, your masculine scent, the feel of your body underneath my hands, and the taste of your lips and tongue—and yes, the taste of your cock. The imagination is a VERY powerful aphrodisiac, I have learned. I’m certain that was one of your intentions.

  The blindfold was scary but exhilarating—never knowing what was going to happen or when. It was also freeing. I’m not certain I could have done some of the things you asked of me if I’d been able to look into your face. Crawling around on the floor for you was one of those things. Part of me hated it, but I realize it was one way for you to demonstrate your complete control over me, making me do something I could never imagine doing for anyone, and even enjoying it on some level. I loved it when you called me your pet.

  I loved massaging you, knowing my hands were bringing you pleasure and at the same time getting a mental image of what feels like a very delicious body. I cannot wait for the chance to explore it even more fully.

  No man has ever fucked my breasts before, and I love that you told me you were going to do it. There was no asking involved. It was what you wanted to do, so you did it. I especially loved lubricating you with my mouth before you began. And I absolutely loved feeling your seed shoot against my skin—the ultimate proof that my body brought you pleasure.

  All of which leaves just one last thing—the vibrator. Talk about exquisite torture! To get so close and not know whether you were ever going to let me come was maddening. There was a moment where I was literally thinking of killing you, so I could take the vibrator and finish myself, that’s how desperate I was. But as always, you knew best. Stopping me twice on the very brink carried me to even greater heights when you finally brought me over the edge. I have never experienced anything like that orgasm today—nothing even close. Indeed, I never imagined anything could feel like that. Thank you again.

  I hope I’ve done a good enough job here to please you. I’ve tried to describe these new and sometimes confusing feelings as best I can. I’m still a bit frightened, but right now, I think I might be more afraid of myself than of you!

  Yours,

  Jennifer />
  I read over my note one last time. There are still parts I don’t completely like, but I can’t think of any other ways to say the things I want to say. It’s nearing midnight and I’ve been working on this for well over an hour. It’s not perfect, by far, but it’s as good as I can make it. I trust that Sir will understand and will appreciate my effort. At least, I hope he will.

  I click send.

  CHAPTER 14

  “You did what?!?!”

  Amanda’s tone and expression mirror her disbelief and concern over what I’ve just told her—that I answered an ad on craigslist and went to the guy’s home without ever meeting him first. And without even telling anyone where I was going, either.

  “Are you fucking crazy?” she continues. “Are you out of your freaking mind? You could have been kidnapped. Kept in a cage. Sold into slavery. You could have been killed. Sliced into pieces. Cut up with a chain saw. Fed into a wood chipper.”

  I shake my head. Amanda has seen way too many horror movies. It’s time to jump in before she has a fit.

  “C’mon, Amanda. A wood chipper? Really?”

  She grins. “Okay, maybe not a wood chipper in a condo. But you get my point.”

  “I do. And I appreciate your concern. Yet here I am, safe and sound.”

  It’s Monday evening. We’re sitting on the couch in my living room, sharing a bottle of wine. We don’t usually do this on a weeknight, but I had to talk to somebody. And I figured some wine might make it easier for both of us.

  “So, what’s this guy’s name?” Amanda asks me.

  I take a sip of wine. I’m pretty sure she’s not going to like this any more than what she’s already heard.

  “I don’t know. I call him Sir.”

  The expression of disbelief returns to Amanda’s face.

  “You call him Sir? Just what kind of ad did you respond to?”

  “It was a little bit kinky,” I admit.

  “Kinky can be fun,” Amanda says, smiling as if she’s recalling some fond memory. “What kind of kinky?”

  “Dominant/submissive.”

  Amanda’s smile widens. “Well, since you’re calling him Sir, we know which one you are. What does he look like? Is he hot?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know? How can you not know?”

  I hide behind my wine glass for a moment, and then take a big sip before I respond.

  “He didn’t let me see him. He had me close my eyes when I walked in and then he blindfolded me.”

  Amanda’s eyes grow wide. “Holy shit, Jennifer! Really?”

  “Yeah, really. It was kind of hot.”

  “I know. I’ve been blindfolded a few times myself.” Amanda shakes her head, like a mother dealing with a wayward child. “But never by someone I didn’t fucking know.”

  “That was kind of scary,” I tell her. “Especially since I was pretty much naked most of the time. But it also made it kind of exciting.”

  Amanda takes another drink and then puts her glass down onto the end table. She scoots forward to the edge of the couch. I can tell she’s starting to get into my story.

  “Pretty much naked, huh?” she says. “Tell me more.”

  “He made me give him a massage.”

  “How nice for him,” Amanda says, smiling.

  “It was fun for me, too. Exploring his body with my fingers, imagining what it looked like. He’s got a great body, from what I felt.”

  “And just how much exploring did you do?”

  I decide to be a little coy…to play with Amanda’s eager curiosity.

  “Only his back half… and his feet.”

  “That’s all?” Amanda looks disappointed. “He had you naked and blindfolded and that’s it?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” I sip my wine. “That’s it for the massage, anyhow.”

  Amanda picks up one of the throw pillows and holds it threateningly over her shoulder, as if she’s going to toss it at me.

  “You tease,” she says, grinning widely. “So give it up, girl. What else happened?” She puts the pillow down and picks up her wine.

  I hesitate for a moment, deciding exactly how much I want to reveal. Amanda and I don’t have many secrets from each other, but am I really ready for full disclosure here? I take a big swallow of my wine—I knew it was going to come in handy tonight. I decide to just go for it and get the worst out first.

  “He made me crawl around his apartment.”

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “Crawl, on all fours. Toward the sound of his voice. First to the couch so I could massage his feet, and then into the bedroom. I never actually walked anywhere. It was always on my hands and knees.”

  I can tell by the look on Amanda’s face that she doesn’t quite know what to make of my admission.

  “It wasn’t as bad as it sounds,” I continue. “His carpet is very soft and clean.”

  “Well, thank goodness for that. You should be grateful he doesn’t have hardwood floors.”

  I laugh. “I know, right? Once I wrapped my head around it though, it was actually kind of freeing—just like the blindfold. I think he did it to demonstrate how totally in control of me he was, which was really pretty hot.”

  “Hmmmm…maybe I’ll have to try that with Billy.”

  Billy is Amanda’s boyfriend of almost a year.

  “Of course, he’ll be the one doing the crawling,” she adds.

  “Of course.”

  “So, what else happened? Did he spank you? Tie you up?”

  “No to both.”

  “What then? Guys don’t have naked women crawling around their apartment just for a massage. Did he fuck you?”

  Amanda is nothing if not blunt.

  I take a moment, considering my answer. “Not really.”

  Her brow furrows in confusion. “Not really? What kind of answer is that? Either he fucked you or he didn’t. Which is it?”

  “He fucked my breasts.”

  “Titty fucking? I’ve done that—it can be pretty hot.” She winks. “You’ve got the boobies for it, too.”

  “It was hot. I liked the way it felt. I wish I could have watched, though, especially when he came. But I was still blindfolded.”

  Amanda grins. “That’s the problem with being a sex slave, I guess. You don’t always get what you want.”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “So, are you going to see him again?”

  “I think so.”

  “Think?”

  “He texted me that he wants me to come back tomorrow night. I’m supposed to call him when I get home from work.” I take a deep breath. “I’m not sure if I should, though. I guess that’s part of the reason I’m talking to you about this.”

  “Oh. I thought you were just trying to make me jealous.” Amanda laughs, then continues. “What are you worried about? It sounds to me like the most dangerous part is over—going to the home of some guy you don’t know and letting him blindfold you. Of course, I guess he could still bring the wood chipper out for the second date.”

  I laugh. Have I mentioned how much I love Amanda?

  “I’m not really worried about any danger—we’ve talked a lot about limits, and about some of the things he likes.”

  “What then? Are you worried you won’t like some of it?”

  I smile. “No, I’m worried I might like some of it a little too much.”

  Amanda lifts her glass and clinks it softly to mine.

  “Sounds like a nice problem to have.”

  You know what? It does sound like a nice problem.

  CHAPTER 15

  It’s 6:30 Tuesday evening and I’m climbing the steps to Sir’s condo. I’m wearing a dressy, knee-length dark grey coat and black leather four-inch stilettos. My hair hangs loose over my shoulders. I look like I’m ready for a nice evening out, except that under the coat, per Sir’s instructions, I’m wearing nothing but a red bra and matching thong.

  I knock twice, without any
hesitation this time. When the door opens, I step inside and close my eyes. We’ve decided—well, Sir decided and I agreed—that I should go at least one more time without seeing him. It certainly makes things hot, but I sure hope he’s not hiding anything.

  Just like last time, his condo is silent. I find myself wondering what kind of music he listens to when he’s not playing with slave girls. I realize how very little I know about him, yet here I am, dropping to my knees and lowering my forehead to the floor.

  “How may I please you, Sir?”

  Doing it doesn’t feel nearly as strange this time.

  “Kneel.”

  I raise myself up into a kneeling position. Once again, he fastens a blindfold around my head.

  “Stand up,” he commands.

  I obey.

  “Take off your coat.”

  I unbutton my coat and shrug it from my shoulders. Before I can drop it to the floor, Sir takes it from me. What he does with it, I’m not sure.

  “Very nice,” he says.

  I hope he’s not talking about my coat.

  “I like the look of you in your underwear and heels,” he continues. “Very sexy. The coat hid your outfit nicely. One of these days we’ll have to go out with you dressed like that.”

  “What?” So many thoughts are racing through my brain that I can’t think of anything else to say.

  “Go out. On a date. Maybe to dinner.”

  He’s not serious, is he? I hope not. I might have to use my safe word for that.

  “Go to dinner in my underwear?”

  “Well, you’d keep your coat on, of course. I’ll be the only one who knows you’re wearing almost nothing underneath.”

  Okay, that doesn’t sound quite so bad. Maybe I could do that somewhere down the road. It does sound kind of naughty and fun.

  “Except when I order you to open your coat to show off to someone,” Sir adds suggestively.

  Oh, no. Here we go again. I’m back to thinking about my safe word.