by Gina Drayer
“Lexi!”
It swings open and Lexi stands in a silk robe barely covering her sculpted thighs. Despite how delectable her smooth legs appear, I search her eyes.
“Is everything ok?” she asks with the same urgency.
“Lexi,” I ask calmly, “twelve years I’ve wondered what happened to us. Help me to understand.”
“Jeremy, wh--”
“Why did you leave me?”
The question creates a silence quiet enough to hear the snow drifting in the air. She sighs but doesn’t hesitate to swing the door wide open.
“C’mon in.”
In her suite, few scented candles light the way to the living room. In the corner, the warm, comforting blaze of the fire place radiates an orange-yellow glow. Lexi picks up two wine glasses as we pass the kitchen. On the marble coffee table is a bottle of wine sitting in a bucket of ice. Lexi takes a seat on the suede couch and sets the glasses on the table. Knowing we both need a drink, I grab the long neck of the half-full wine bottle.
“Pinot Grigio?” I ask.
“Yes. It was one of the best selection they had at the store.”
The removal of the cork releases the floral fragrance of the white wine. Its liquid sloshes against the glass as I pour her a glass before I fill my own.
“A little coincidental, is it not,” I add, “for you to buy the wine we drank when we announce our engagement.”
“I find that this weekend is full of coincidence. But, like all things, there’s a purpose for everything.”
I gulp the wine, savoring its crisp taste. “Then what purpose did you have to leave me?”
She taps her finger on her glass as if wondering where to begin, sighing several times. Hoping to help her feel more comfortable, I sit next to her.
“Lexi--”
“You and I married very young,” she begins, “Our marriage brought me exquisite joy. But as we settled, I began to think, ‘Is this it?’ Married life became routine it was more difficult to remain happy. Every day I fought new battles against the feeling of betrayal towards you, our vows, me… Until one day, I learned that I needed something more.”
“What did you need?”
“Room to grow. To become the person I wanted to be.”
“And the person you wanted to be is…”
“This.” She runs her hands down her body with confidence and alluring sexual apparel.
“You couldn’t become this way while married to me?” I ask.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t know what I needed until after our divorce,” her voice low and squeaky. “I was very confused, Jeremy, about everything.” She sighs and grabs her wine, chugging the entire glass in two gulps.
“Eventually,” her voice composes, “I met a friend who said a good spanking should set me right and invited me to a BDSM event. While there, everything began to make perfect sense. The entire experience was riveting.”
A certain warmth flows from her as she speaks. Sharing her memory with me seems to invoke the excitement she had when she first discovered the epiphany. I want to reach out and touch her but I don’t as the familiar pang of rejection jerks me.
“It turns out, my friend was right,” she continues. “At the event, there was a spanking booth. After the Dom left me with enough palm prints to paint a portrait, I knew I wanted embraced my submissive side.”
I couldn’t believe what I heard. She left to pursue the role of a sub? A plethora of scenes, dirty ones involving leather and riding crops, feeds the excitement I had earlier. However, there are a few more questions. To keep from blundering and derailing off topic, I set my wine next to the ice bucket, and sat next to her.
“Have you found what you’re looking for?” I ask.
“Yes, I have. But now I’m on the search for a compatible Dom, particularly one interested in collaring. It’s the reason I’m here this weekend. There’s an event uptown.”
“Now, you’re ready for a Master?”
“Yes.”
Ten years later and she’s finally ready to settle down.
I raise an eyebrow but I doubt she notices. Collaring a sub is complete possession, a marriage in a different form. I never considered collaring since the convenience of the relationships allows me the companionship without the commitment. But she’s probably the only exception I will make. Except, how do I know she’ll honor the bonds of a collar?
I run my hands through my hair and attempt to rein my thoughts from slipping to my tongue, knowing the situation sits on a cordial balance.
“It baffles me that you didn’t tell me,” I say.
“Once I figured it out, I wanted to. But I thought you were vanilla. I didn’t know how you would react.”
“Back then, no, I wouldn’t know how to respond. But you didn’t try to communicate your needs to me. You just ran. Had you spoken to me and allowed me to be part of this journey, you’d learn that I’m anything but vanilla.”
She looks at me with curiosity in her eyes. I cup her chin with my hand.
“Lexi, I’m a Dominate.”
Her face flares with that same warmth from earlier.
“I suspected. When I saw you walk in through the front doors, shuffling the snow from your jacket, immediately you commanded the attention of every woman in the room. I knew you were different.”
“Not different, no. I just know what I’m doing now.” I tuck a lock of loose hair behind her ear and sigh. “All that time lost and only---”
“---to find that what I’m looking for was right in front of me.” Her finger traces mine where my wedding band used to be.
“Stop running away,” I grip onto her hands.
She meets me with large brown eyes, voice cracking as she speaks. “Jeremy, I’m so sorry I left without an explanation. All the pain I caused you tortures me every day. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt the man brave enough to love me. But I was so confused.”
She blinks, attempting to hide the moisture in her eyes. With a few sniffles, she holds my hand to her face as angst begins to veil around her.
“Please, forgive me,” she says.
For a long time, I have wanted to hear Lexi’s explanation, hoping it will provide me with closure. But not at the expense of her tears. I pull her in for a hug and in her arms, I am home again. The feeling it summons render what happened and the time lost insignificant. She’s here now, that’s all that matters.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she says.
“Me, too, Babe. More than you could ever know.” In that embrace, we remain, holding each other until the emotional pain subsides, dissipating into the air. In its place, strength, which we lost long ago, returns and empowers the will to move forward.
Lexi pulls away and on her face, she wears smile, reflecting the content I felt. We resettle into the couch. Like she’s done a hundred times before, she sits in my lap and rests her head on my shoulders.
“It’s almost too convenient, isn’t it, how things turned out?” she asks.
“Everything happens for a reason,” I repeat and draw a small giggle from her.
“Now that we’ve found each other, is there a chance we can rebuild our relationship?”
“That’s going to take some time. Plus, there’s still the issue of compatibility and trust.”
“I understand. But I’ll like to try.”
In my lap, she shifts, throwing her leg over the couch. She takes my hand in hers and kisses every fingertip as if worshipping them. She guides me to her crotch where the slippery surface of her soft flesh made it easy to stroke back and forth.
“You know this isn’t customary,” I say. “Usually we have a talk or two about limits.”
“I know. But given our history, I’d figure we can bypass the talk.”
“Naughty Girl. That deserves a spanking for not following customs.” My finger moves relentlessly on her, driving on her clit. She squirms on top of me showing her limber ability.
<
br /> “Well, we could have vanilla sex,” she points out.
I scoff, the laugh catching in my throat, stopping the pace on her clit. “I told you, I’m not vanilla. Besides, your dream you shared before bothers me too much. It does give me an idea for a scene.”
“Yes?”
“Did you bring any toys?”
“Yes.”
“Set those out on the dresser drawer for me. For this scene, I’d like to test your ability to communicate with me. You’ll know what I’ll do before it happens. You are to tell me the moment you are uncomfortable, understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now, go to your bedroom and wait for me.”
She gets up and light footsteps tread into bedroom. All those dirty positions in my head make a flaring comeback, especially the dream she shared. But it’ll have to wait since there is much riding on the outcome of this scene. Eager to know if she will make a good sub, if we can connect, and more importantly, if I can trust her again, I’ll have to do something different.
***
I walk into the room naked with my tie loosen around my neck. More candles outline the room in a fiery glow. At the foot of the bed, she waits silently, sitting on her heels, knees slightly apart with only the shade of darkness cloaking her fair body. Her head lowers and her palms are in her lap facing upwards, waiting. Her muscles sculpt into long, lean lines giving her the graceful, proportional curves of a goddess. The gloss on her skin highlights the best features of her body: her round, firm breasts, the tightness of her navel, and the flare of her hips.
Immediately the conflict between relishing the moment and rushing to the end result infests me. Any bastard would flip her over and waste this chance. I remind myself there’s no need to rush even though my cock pumps and drips with precum. I approach her, lifting her chin.
“Look at me,” I command in a low voice. Her eyes peer up and the intimacy of her gaze sees through me to my core. I don’t think it is possible as I am already naked but she somehow peels back another layer. I’ve been with various subs before and none have had this effect. She brings an element that enhances the rush guaranteed to make this scene mind-numbingly sweet. I can feel a twisting excitement as my thumb runs across her chin.
“Tell me, what do you seek in a Sir?”
“Someone to push my limits,” she says.
“For that, the Dom will need to know you well. And he’ll need experience.”
“Sir’s observation is keen.”
“Tonight you are mine. All mine. And you’ll be justly rewarded if you are good. Now, what are your safe words?”
“Orange, for nearing limit, red to stop, and blue for not enjoying something.”
“Good. I’m going to test your tolerance to anticipation and help you understand what it means to be the object of affection.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Do you have any objections to biting or blindfolds?”
“No, Sir.”
I smirk, ready to begin. “Sight is such an overrated sense. You, Girl, couldn’t see what was in front of you. But with a blindfold, you will find what you seek.” With my tie twists in each hand, I walk behind her and lower it over her eyes, tying it into a knot behind her hair. With a deep whiff of her scent, I relish it like the fine cigar.
I leave and amble to the dresser drawer with various toys on top. It’s a travel size collection but contains a decent variety. There are the basics: hand cuff, dildo, gag, cock ring and a flogger. But other items prove more interesting, showing sophistication in her selection. The nipple to clit tweezers set, for example, is definitely something I aim to try. When combine with the Wartenburg Wheel, her nerve endings will explode with pleasure. But the one item that stole my attention sitting in the far corner of the dresser is the gold plated Ben Wa Balls. My favorite kind, too since there are no strings to connect the two marble size balls.
With them in my hand, I walk over to Lexi and kneel behind her.
“Such soft skin, you have, my sweet Girl,” I whisper.
“Does it please Sir?”
“Yes,” I breathe into her ear.
My arm wraps around her waist and aligns her body with mine. With my harsh breath, I hiss onto her neck before biting into it, thirsting for a taste of her. She jerks and grinds against my cock as small moans of pleasure escapes. The warmth of her skin tantalizes me and I almost cum like a virgin.
Shit, this is testing my anticipation as well.
It is do or die. I’m not about to accept the latter. My tongue glides down her warm skin from her collar bone to her neck; I lick and savor every inch, sinking my teeth into her flesh. She gasps and her hand finds mine, mirroring the pressure of my bite. I bring the Ben Wa Balls against her skin, rolling them across her navel to her breasts. After I sandwich each nipple between the ball and my finger, I roll them around, making them pert and pointy.
She leans on my shoulder and I watch her face as pleasure consumes her. Driven to deliver more, I clamp my fingers down on her nipples and twist like I am rolling a joint. Her hips circulate and I join her, pressing firmly against her ass. My cock, with a mind of its own, finds his place between her legs, settling comfortably on her slit unwrapping her folds around me.
“What do I have in my hands?” I ask.
“Ben Wa balls, Sir.”
“They will go into your sweet pussy where you must hold them for the remainder of the scene. If you don’t, you won’t be allowed to cum. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I roll the balls down her navel to her clit, stopping briefly to massage it. Behind, I thrust the length of my cock against the entrance of her pussy and she grunts, fighting for breath. Urge by her energetic melody, I increase my speed.
“Sir, permission to speak,” she blurts.
“Granted,” I say, not ceasing my rhythm.
“Please, I’m going to cum!” As if it’s a safe word, I stop, cock still between her and hand firmly gripped onto her pussy.
“Not yet,” I utter.
She heaves, calming down, desperately trying to suppress the orgasm building in her body. Her denial of her personal pleasure shows how much self-control she has since most beg for release by now.
One by one, I slip the balls inside her. I stand up to help her to her feet and lift her into my arms. On the bed, she lays with her head hanging over the edge. I crouch and start with a kiss on her forehead to her nose and her lips. Those lips, which I have missed so much, I taste and eat to my fill.
“I’m going to fuck you with my face. Do you object to me fucking yours?”
“No, Sir.”
I slide down her body and set my head between her legs. Her hot breathe against my balls challenge my ability to steady in my eager, thrusting hips. With my tongue flat against her pink pussy brimming with her fragrant honey, I lick. Running over her clit to her opening, I insert a finger into her, circulating kneading her insides with the Ben Wa balls. Her breath comes faster as she moans loudly between my legs, flaring my balls with the heat of her cry. I enter another finger and listen to her muffle moans reach staccato intensity, resonating through her throat. Slick wetness drips from her and makes it easier to increase the intensity. As her peak approaches, she clamps around my fingers. But I withdrew.
Not allowing her time to catch her breath, I grab a handful of hair and adjusts her head before pushing my cock between her lips. She sucks me in, probably relishing in the precum before swallowing me almost to my base. With her tongue rubbing my shaft and her tight throat squeezing my head, it takes all the control I have not to burst into her mouth. But she moves and each swallow take a little more of my cock further in. As if showcasing her skills, she starts to rock and bob her head.
Holy fuck, the sensation! It makes a man feel like a boy and a boy feel like a man!
Unable to take her skillful mouth, I retract and search for the condoms. On the nightstand, I select from the options, disregarding the different flavors and slip it on. I guide
her around and with her hands to support her back, I lift her hips slightly to meet mine. I kiss her feet before laying them against my abs and spreading her knees.
“How far do you want me to push you?” I ask, breath escaping me.
“Until you see fit, Sir.”
Without waiting, I ram into her, resting my cock inside her, warm and tight. Circulating slowly, I rock her, enjoying the view of watching myself extend to her. I can feel the Ben Wa balls moving inside, like a deep tissue massage. Grabbing hold of her ass, I pound, increasing in speed to an impossible pace. But each moan from her sweet lips urge me to move quicker, pushing me to my own limits. As much as it kills me, I slow down or withdrew completely each time her orgasm closes in. She answers with a yelp as her need for release becomes ravenous.
“So eager, Girl.”
After the fourth or so time, I lost track and can’t stay sane anymore. I need that cum. But I have something to prove not only to me but to her as well. Throwing her legs over my shoulders, I link her arms around my neck. Hands firmly place on her hips, I grind feeling my head branding my name on her cervix. The slow deep motion awakens something in her and she growls sharply.
“Patience, my sweet Girl, patience.” I grind further in and she snarls louder. She claws into my neck and takes every last pressure I give to her.
“Tell me what you want, Girl.”
“Sir. All of him. Release me, please.”
“No.” I smirk and watch her face as she bit her lips. Her eyes close as she rides the high of anticipation. She speaks nonsense but I understood her well. After denying her a few more times, she screams,
“Please, Master! You’re humble servant begs you.”
No sweeter words could have been uttered. Letting her legs slip down to my elbow, I thrust into her. Her voice synchs with the slap of her flesh against mine, each greater than the last. I increase in pace until she hails Mary and I curse God. We both crash onto the bed, fighting for air.
Reaching behind her head, I release her blindfold.
“Good girl.” I kiss her and rest next to her.
“Permissions to speak?”
