Her eyes widened.
‘Yes, I know what you were thinking. Do you think the girl who writes your blog would be shrinking under the duvet like a fucking outraged Victorian virgin?’
She flinched at the harshness of his words. ‘N–no.’ She was horrified to find tears welling up in her eyes. ‘I know I’m not sexy, but that’s why I need you to—’
‘But you are!’ He groaned in frustration, pulling at his hair. ‘That’s what I keep trying to tell you. But I need you to meet me halfway.’ He sighed heavily, leaning his head against the wall. ‘We need to rethink this whole thing.’
She gasped. Was he dumping her already? It was almost funny – she was so crap in bed, she couldn’t even get a guy to screw her for money. She couldn’t speak. It was taking all her concentration willing herself not to cry.
‘It’s not going to work if you’re just coming over here for lessons in techniques,’ Luca continued. ‘We need to have a more … holistic approach.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I can teach you how to give a blowjob or whatever, but that’s not going to turn you into the person you want to be. The technical stuff is only a tiny part of it. It’s mostly about turning you into a sexually confident woman, making you feel like the desirable person you really are. And to do that we’re going to have to ramp it up.’
‘So … how exactly do we do that?’ she asked, relieved that he didn’t appear to be quitting after all.
‘I think you should plan to stay over on nights when we have a lesson – at least some of the time. You can’t run off like a scalded cat the minute it’s over. Okay?’
‘Okay.’ She nodded.
‘I’ll let you off the hook for tonight, but next time, plan to be here for the night. Pack a bag. You can leave some stuff here, if you want. It’ll be more intensive too, so better value for money – more bang for your buck, as it were,’ he said with a lopsided smile. ‘We need to spend more time together before and after because it’s not all about the act itself. You have to own your sexuality. If you stay over, you can get used to undressing in front of me and being naked around me. We can shower together – maybe have sex in the shower …’
Her breath hitched at the thought of having sex with him in the shower.
‘Unless you’d like to start now?’ He raised an eyebrow and smiled crookedly at her.
‘Um …’ She was really tempted, but she didn’t want him to know she had been lying. ‘I really am meeting someone.’
‘Okay. But you’re on board with the plan?’
‘Yes. But … should I pay you more? I mean, if I’m going to be staying over …’
‘No. You’re already paying me more than enough for something I’d do for free anyway. I don’t want you to pay me more, but I want you to put more effort into it.’
God, she hadn’t had a ‘must try harder’ lecture since she was at school. (Actually, she’d never had a lecture like this at school – she’d always been a diligent pupil.)
‘I tried,’ she protested, waving in the general direction of his groin, ‘but you wouldn’t let me.’
‘I’m not talking about touching my dick or getting me off,’ he snapped. ‘I want you to try harder to have a bit of courage, to have more faith in yourself. Okay?’
‘Okay.’
‘Now, do you want me to give you some privacy while you get dressed?’ The look he gave her was a challenge.
She swallowed hard. ‘N-no.’ Taking a deep breath, she dropped the duvet and stood up. ‘I’ll get dressed in the bathroom,’ she said, standing before him naked and forcing herself to hold his gaze with a huge effort of will.
She was rewarded with a pleased smile – he looked almost proud of her. It made it easier for her that he didn’t drop his eyes from hers, and she was grateful.
‘You know where it is,’ he said, and she walked at a normal pace from the room. It wasn’t much, but at least she didn’t break into a run. It was a start.
Chapter Thirteen
Slavish Love
Mr Bossy is a dominant, and though I don’t think of myself as a submissive, I do have a strong desire to submit when I’m with him. There’s something about him that makes me want to obey; to serve and please him. I crave his praise. When he tells me I’m a ‘good girl’, the words alone are almost enough to make me come.
So yesterday we’re out in his car, tootling along in the fast lane, surrounded by other Sunday drivers, when he asks me to take off my knickers. Well, he doesn’t ask really – it’s more of an order than a request. So I do as I’m told, eager to please. I’m totally his bitch, and I don’t even care. I’m already excited as I wriggle them off under my skirt and toss them into the footwell.
‘Show me,’ he says. ‘Lift up your skirt.’
I look around, not sure I can do it. We’re on a busy road – there are cars whizzing by on both sides.
‘No one can see,’ he says, understanding my anxiety, and I realise it’s true. Other drivers can only see my top half. No one will know if I’m naked from the waist down. ‘Show me,’ he coaxes again, in that commanding voice of his.
So I grab the hem of my skirt and pull it up slowly, teasing him, finally bunching it up around my waist and turning in the seat to give him a full visual. He takes his eyes off the road for a second to glance over at me, and his little gasp is gratifying.
‘Spread your legs,’ he says, and I scooch down a little in my seat and spread myself open. I tell you, I’m like a little puppy that’s aced obedience school around this guy. If he told me to roll over and play dead, I’d probably do it.
He takes one hand off the wheel and reaches over to grope me a little. ‘You’re so wet already,’ he says, as he strokes me. ‘Does this game excite you?’
‘Yes,’ I whisper. My voice is shaky as his fingers work me and I feel myself getting wetter.
‘Good girl,’ he says, as he withdraws his fingers. He sticks them in his mouth, sucking absentmindedly. ‘Do you need to come?’ he asks, as he places his hand back on the wheel, and I feel bereft.
‘Yes,’ I gasp. I sound like I’m choking.
‘I’d like to do that for you, but I have to concentrate on the road,’ he says, giving me a wicked smile. ‘Put your feet up on the dash and touch yourself.’
I kick off my shoes and plant my feet as instructed.
‘Good girl,’ he coos, as I stroke myself, and I can feel myself getting closer at the sound of his voice. ‘You’re always such a good girl for me. I want you to make yourself come now. And let me hear you.’
I’m just climaxing, my body bucking off the seat, straining against the seatbelt, when we pull up at a set of traffic lights. A young guy in a black BMW pulls up beside us and glances over. I don’t know if he guesses what’s going on, but he grins and winks at me. I turn to Mr Bossy in panic, and he reaches out and strokes my hair, soothing me as I come down from a juddering orgasm. I’m whimpering as little aftershocks ripple through me.
‘Ssh, it’s okay,’ he says, and tells me I’m a good girl again. ‘You did great,’ he says. ‘I’m very pleased with you.’ I don’t even care then that a total stranger has just seen my sex face.
When the lights change and we pull away, I reach down for my knickers.
‘Don’t,’ he says, and I straighten up again. ‘Leave them off. I think you deserve a reward for being such a good girl. When I find some place to pull in, we’ll stop and you can have my cock. Would you like that?’
I know – it sounds like a dad offering to stop for ice-cream as a treat for his little girl. But I nod eagerly, like a child gagging for that ice-cream, because I really would like that very much, and he knows it. I love having his big, thick cock in my mouth. I love how helpless and vulnerable I can make him with my hands and mouth, how powerful it makes me feel, even when he grabs my hair and controls my movements. And I love it in my cunt, moving inside me, filling me up until I don’t know where he ends and I begin.
We pull into a la
y-by, and he cuts the engine, turning to me as he unclicks his seatbelt. I don’t know if he wants me to undo mine, so I wait. He smiles and I know he’s pleased that I’m waiting for his instructions. He leans over and kisses my forehead, then my mouth as he releases my seatbelt himself.
‘I’d like you to take your top off,’ he says, as he pulls back, looking into my eyes. This isn’t a command, it’s a request. Sometimes he does this. I think he’s making allowances for the fact that I’m new to all this, and I’m not as into it as most of the submissives he’s been with. I’m touched that he’s so considerate and patient with me, and it just makes me more eager to please him. Still, I waver, glancing towards the window. He sees my slight hesitation, but he’s not displeased. This is a request, not an order.
‘Please. I won’t let anyone see you,’ he says.
So I say yes, his favourite word, and pull my top off over my head.
‘Thank you,’ he says, kissing me on the forehead again.
I know my trust means a lot to him, and I feel good, knowing I’ve pleased him.
‘Is it warm enough?’ he asks, stroking my arm as I unhook my bra.
‘Yes.’ I smile, touched by his consideration. It’s cold outside, but he’s had the heating running and it’s cosy and warm inside his car. I toss my bra onto the floor.
‘Such a beautiful girl,’ he says, pulling me into his lap. His hands run up and down my naked torso, over my bare breasts, and they feel amazing on my skin. He leans down and suckles my breasts, first one, then the other, taking my nipples into his mouth. Then he undoes his fly and bunches my skirt up around my waist and we fuck right there in the lay-by.
He pulls out at the last minute and comes over my breasts. When we have both recovered, he rubs his spunk all over my chest, massaging it into my skin with slow, firm movements. As his palms pass over my nipples, they harden and excitement spikes again deep inside me. He smiles, and I think he knows that he’s getting me worked up again, but he just continues methodically massaging his cum into my breasts and belly.
‘There,’ he says, with a smile of satisfaction when he’s done and I’m coated in a fine layer of his jizz, drying on my skin. He taps my waist to indicate that I can get off him, and I’m disappointed because I’m ready to go again. ‘You can put your top back on,’ he says, as I slide across to the passenger seat. ‘But I’ll keep those.’ He nods to my knickers on the floor. ‘Put them in the glove compartment for me.’
I do as I’m told and he drives me back to my place.
‘Thank you for a lovely day,’ he says, when he’s parked outside my building.
‘Thank you.’ I smile. I’m hoping he’ll come inside. I want more.
‘I won’t come in,’ he says, answering my unspoken question. ‘I have an early flight in the morning.’
I’m disappointed, but I console myself with the thought that I can have a wank as soon as I get in. I’m eager to get out of the car now.
‘Don’t have a shower tonight,’ he says. ‘I want you to go to bed covered in my cum. I want the smell of me all around you, so you think of me all the time.’
No problemo, I think – all the better for getting myself off to thoughts of him.
‘And don’t touch yourself,’ he says then, as if he’s read my mind. ‘Don’t let anyone else touch you either. Your next orgasm will come from me. Is that clear?’
I nod, dismayed. He’s going away on business tomorrow and he’ll be gone for a week. My only hope is that he’ll call for phone sex and let me come then. Otherwise, I’m looking at a whole week without an orgasm. Still, I know I’ll do it. The desire to please him is overwhelming.
‘Yes,’ I say.
He gives a little groan of satisfaction. ‘You’re such a good girl,’ he says. ‘You please me very much.’ Then he leans over and kisses me again, his hand cupping my breast. His thumb flicks over the nipple, deliberately teasing, and I jump, already desperate to come again.
I didn’t get much sleep that night. Every time I turn in the bed I smell his musky scent all around me. It’s agony not touching myself, and I wonder how I’m going to hold out for a whole week. But I do. Because I’m such a good girl for him.
Holy shit! Luca thought, closing the laptop and trying to ignore the semi he had got while he read. It was a good thing he’d decided to check out Claire’s blog, he thought, struggling to reconcile what he’d just read with the Claire he knew. He couldn’t believe she’d written that stuff – she had trouble even saying ‘fuck’. At least now he knew what they were up against. If this was who Claire’s publisher dude thought he was dealing with, it was no wonder she was worried about living up to his expectations. He’d probably dump her as soon as she refused to have a three-way or to let him tie her up. Or, worse, she might feel pressured into doing stuff she wasn’t comfortable with to keep up the pretence.
It just reinforced what he had said to her yesterday. He could teach her techniques, give her experience, show her how to please a guy, and help her discover what she liked, so she could ask for what she wanted in bed. But, more than anything, they needed to work on building up her confidence so she could handle herself in any situation. She needed a bit of this NiceGirl’s ballsy attitude. But the fact that she had written this stuff gave him hope. It must be in there somewhere – it was just a matter of drawing it out.
On Friday evening, Claire raced home from work and packed her overnight bag. Her mother’s friends were relocating their usual weekly card game to the nursing home, so Espie would have plenty of company for the night. Claire had the whole weekend off work, and was going to stay with Luca. Deciding what to bring was worse than packing for a holiday. She didn’t want to freak Luca out by taking too much, but there was a certain amount of stuff she needed. Going through her clothes the previous night, she had realised she was ashamed of her underwear, and had dashed around at lunchtime buying new bras and knickers – not overtly sexy, but pretty and feminine. She made sure to cut all the tags off before packing them in her case. She didn’t want Luca to know she had bought them specially for him. She toyed with the idea of buying new nightwear too. She usually slept in a ratty old oversized T-shirt or pyjamas that were built more for comfort than to get a man’s pulses racing. But in the end she decided nightclothes wouldn’t be required when she was staying with Luca, so she decided not to bother bringing any.
After work she went to Marks & Spencer and bought thick peppered steaks, huge baking potatoes, fat brown mushrooms, crème fraîche and chives, bags of salad, punnets of raspberries, thick double cream and a couple of bottles of red wine. She was on a mission. She suspected Luca didn’t usually eat very well, and she wanted to cook him a really good dinner. He had done something so nice for her, and it seemed only right to return the favour.
She got a bit carried away when she started food shopping, picking up blueberries, Greek yoghurt, eggs, sourdough bread, orange juice and coffee for the morning. She felt a little frisson of pleasure as it dawned on her that she was shopping for a lovers’ tryst – a seduction dinner and a morning-after breakfast. She was finally taking part in life, instead of sitting on the sidelines watching it pass her by.
She took a taxi to Luca’s and arrived laden with shopping bags and her wheelie case, hoping it didn’t look too much like she was moving in. Luca grinned at her as he opened the door.
‘Ready for your sleepover?’ he asked, grabbing her case and waving her inside.
‘I brought some stuff for dinner,’ she said, holding her shopping bags aloft as she followed him up the stairs. ‘I don’t know if you had any plans …’
‘I hadn’t thought about it, really,’ he said absently. ‘I figured we’d just get a takeaway or something.’
‘Well, I thought I could cook,’ Claire said. ‘I brought lots of food.’
‘I’ll leave this here for now,’ Luca said, leaning her case against the couch when they got into the flat. He led her through to the kitchen and took one of the bags from her. ‘Steak,
cream, raspberries, wine,’ he said, as he unloaded it onto the counter. ‘Are you trying to seduce me?’ He grinned at her.
‘If you’d rather get a takeaway …’ She hoped he didn’t think she was acting like a girlfriend – buying groceries, offering to cook for him.
‘God, no. This looks amazing! I can’t remember when I last had steak. You can come and stay anytime. But you know I’m a sure thing, right? You don’t have to spend your money on me.’
For a second the unspoken words hung in the air between them – more than you’re already spending.
‘Well, I have to eat too,’ Claire said.
‘Okay,’ he said breezily. ‘Let’s get the oven on. I take it you were planning to bake these?’ he said, holding up the potatoes.
She nodded, grateful that he wasn’t going to make an issue of it. Luca put the potatoes in the oven, and they stashed the rest of the food in the fridge.
‘They’re going to need a head-start,’ Claire said, waving at the oven. ‘Maybe we could discuss our arrangement while we’re waiting. We still haven’t hammered out the details properly.’
‘Or we could have a quickie?’ Luca said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Claire smiled. But she wanted to get some things straight before going any further. She didn’t want any more uncertainty. ‘Let’s discuss our arrangement.’
‘Suit yourself, it’s your dime.’ He took her hand and led her back into the living room, pulling her down onto the couch beside him.
‘OK, we need to sort out what times I come here, and how long I can stay.’
‘We can play it by ear,’ Luca said.
‘I don’t want to intrude on your life.’
‘I’ll let you know if you’re in the way,’ he replied drily.
‘As long as you promise to tell me the minute you feel I’m crowding you. I don’t want you to be afraid of hurting my feelings.’
Some Girls Do Page 15
