Friday Afternoon

by Sylvia Ryan

  My mind wanders through the last eight months of Friday afternoon meetings. I suspect we’re already pretty close to achieving the relationship he wants. There are quite a few activities related to BDSM we engage in regularly and some have been tried and rejected. Knowing Levi, exhibitionism and sharing are probably out. He’d tried humiliation, at least I felt humiliated by the anal fingering he subjected me to every night for a week, trying to “prepare” me. He knew I didn’t like it, and he hasn’t made any other attempts at what I would consider humiliation.

  What’s left? What else is he looking for? The slave thing. I’m at a loss on how to bridge the remaining gap between us until finally, I stand, grab my purse and announce to the two teenagers glued to the TV, “I’m going out for a while.”

  Less than a half hour later, I walk into the Only for Lovers store and try to look comfortable amongst the lubes, toys and sexy lingerie. I feel the scrutiny of the young woman behind the counter after I realize I’m the only customer in the store. Then to my horror, the woman walks around the counter and approaches me. Is she kidding?

  “Can I help you find something?”

  I feel like slapping her for butting in on my growing embarrassment but I take a moment to find the correct phrasing for what I’m looking for. “Do you have a BDSM or fetish section?” I think I detect a moment of surprise as she glances at my body before meeting my gaze again.

  “Sure. Most is back here but there’s also things sprinkled in here and there throughout the store. It would be easier if you could tell me what you’re looking for and I can point you in the right direction.”

  “I’m just browsing,” I say, turning away from her. She gets the hint and leaves me to face down and explore a wall of kink solo. I’m surprised at how many displayed items we own already–paddle, plugs and restraints. But there were a few items not yet in our toy box.

  Ball gag? No. Making noise is one of the best things about our Friday afternoon rendezvous.

  I’m drawn to the display of nipple clamps. Some look like jewelry. Some look like torture devices. I zero in on dangling ones that resemble jewelry. According to the box, they’re weighted and adjustable. I like them. Dark red, faceted stones sparkle from the ends of gold chains.

  I pull them from the hook and look around at the rest. There are a few other items that seem interesting, wands, things for fetishes I’ve never heard of like puppy play. I’ll have to ask Levi about that one, but if he asks me to bark like a dog, I’ll have to smack him.

  Toward the floor, a book catches my eye. The cover showcases a photo of a collared woman kneeling. The title reads The Good Sub. I pick it up and leaf through. The first chapter displays several photos of the same woman in submissive poses. I read, “Any well-trained sub should know the basic poses that please her Master.”

  I have a surge of inspiration. The pose on the cover conveys utter submission. That, along with the nipple clamps and nothing else, should let Levi know we’re now on the same page. I keep the book and take it along with the clamps to the register, adding a bottle of lube to my Subbie 101 supplies on the way up. I pay and make a beeline to my car. I have a whole lot of reading and body upkeep to do before our date. I’m excited about this new world opening up to me.

  I’m impatient to supply Levi with exactly what he wants from me. I try to imagine his reaction but after a few guesses, I leave this road untraveled. He’ll decide what to do with me. I just want to please him.

  With great effort, I manage to make it home before him on Friday and I run through the house shedding clothes and getting ready to present myself. I pull my long brown hair into a high, tight ponytail and clip the nipple jewelry into place. I experience a moment of what-the-fuck as the metal closes on the sensitive skin of my nipples, but I forge ahead, thinking only of my husband’s pleasure, not my own.

  The garage door opener sounds as I’m finishing. I race to the door and get into the kneeling pose with my hands placed on the tops of each thigh and my eyes averted right before he walks through the door.

  Mia

  I know Levi sees me immediately but he doesn’t comment. He steps close so I’m looking at his black Italian leather shoes. He softly places his hand on the crown of my head and stands there silent for a long minute.

  “Go to the bedroom and wait for me.” His voice is raspy. He withdraws his hand from my head and steps back.

  I scurry upstairs and wait in the same position right inside our bedroom door.

  I’m nervous and the longer I wait for him, the more nervous I get.

  When I hear his casual footfalls on the hard wood floor advancing down the hall, my hands, resting on the tops of my thighs, tremble slightly in anticipation. I can’t wait to give him all of me, body and mind. I’m making a gift of myself. There’s nothing more I can give him.

  My chest heaves with the nervous gulps of air filling my lungs. Again, I see his shoes. Then he leaves me to move farther into the room. I stay in the pose, only knowing what to do from the book I purchased the day before. I suspect his actions are a test to see how much of my role in this dynamic I’m familiar with.

  I smile slightly to myself. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to disappoint him. I’m prepared for what he wants from me.

  My back is to him, but I hear him moving in our large combination bathroom and dressing area. He’s there for several minutes and my knees ache on the hardwood floor. But I don’t move, won’t move, until he directs me to. The irony he’s spending so much time in the place where I wondered if my marriage was dead so many months ago is not lost on me.

  Finally, he leaves the other room and I see his shoes before me again. I take the hand he offers, and then I peek up at him, rising to my feet. The expression in his gaze startles me. It’s ravenous. My heart thumps harder due to his inspection. If I’ve ever doubted his seriousness, whether this is just a game for him, his look wipes away the uncertainty.

  He tugs on one swaying nipple clamp.

  “I’m not sure you’re ready.”

  I don’t speak.

  “It was presumptuous of you to take control of this training.” His voice holds a tone of disapproval.

  “I only did it because I want to please you,” I whisper.

  “You please me already.”

  I say nothing.

  “Wrists.”

  I present them. He wraps a lined cuff around each. They’re attached to each other with about a foot and a half of black rope. He grabs the rope and leads me into the walk-through closet and dressing room he prepared. He guides me to the round rug we walk on as we pass through this space to the bathroom and stops.

  With a tug of the rope, he lifts my arms over my head and I’m up on the balls of my feet as he secures them to something in the ceiling.

  I continue to avert my eyes as he circles me. He casually runs his fingers over random spots on my skin as he stalks me.

  “If you need me to stop?”

  “I’ll say my safe word, but I won’t need you to stop.”

  “Confident little sub. Maybe too confident.”

  Suddenly he swats my ass with a stinging thwapp. The strike is from something flat and hard. He isn’t using the flogger. I’m disappointed. I enjoyed being flogged. The flogger is an implement of pain falling within my comfort zone.

  He stands behind me and softly whispers, “Disappointed?”

  I don’t know why, but I’m surprised he knows my mind so well. “Yes.”

  “You’ll learn to appreciate more than the flogger. Just as I appreciate the different patterns of pink each device leaves on your skin.” He raps my ass again. After the short sting of it, my skin warms.

  “This paddle, for example, leaves a lovely shade of pink across your sweet bottom.” He runs his hand over the tool of torment and then follows with a soft caress with a cupped hand over the disciplined area. Then he tucks a finger lower between my legs. He smoothes a finger over my rear entrance, pausing there for a few moments before he continues lower
to my pussy. He works his finger in and out, spreading the hot moisture over my bare lips. Then he withdraws his hand and replaces it with the caress of the paddle on my rear.

  “Count,” he says, and I’m confused until he paints more color on my rear with his paddle.

  “One, two, three…”

  The strikes come slowly with enough time between them for the pain to sink in and my ass to catch fire.

  “…nine, ten.”

  Then, he conducts a thorough exploration of my cunt with his hand. My head buzzes and I’m already in a state of bliss as his fingers press my clit and penetrate me. I’m so wet that his hand glides easily over my contours. I’m ready to come as his nimble fingers execute the moves that, over a decade of marriage, he’s mastered.

  I gyrate my hips, seeking more of what I want, and suddenly, his hand is gone.

  I groan.

  “You get what I give you, you don’t take. Count.”

  Thwap.

  “One, two…”

  He stops at five and then comes to stand in front of me. He still wears a crisp white dress shirt and black pants. I feel slightly removed from him, like he is receding, but I don’t miss the expression communicating the gratification he feels.

  “So pretty.” He walks circles around me again, drawing trails on me with the pads of his fingers. His phone is in his hand. Moments later, I hear the sound of the camera snapping a picture behind me.

  Levi chuckles and returns to stand in front of me again. He steps forward and lifts my chin so our gazes meet. I’m still there with him, not completely inside my own headspace.

  He snags a fistful of hair at the back of my head and tilts my face upward. We’re nose to nose, so close we breathe each other’s air. Gradually, I see the steel glint in his eye. The fist in my hair tightens.

  “Don’t hold back,” I say. “I have to know I can give you everything you need.”

  He releases my hair and steps back from me. He unbuttons his shirt absently as he peruses my body.

  I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. What are the scenarios submitting themselves for review during this deliberation?

  I catch glimpses of pecs and then abs. I’m mesmerized. My breathing magnifies in volume until the rush of it in my ears sounds like an obscene phone call. It’s background music to the striptease holding my rapt attention.

  Damn he’s gorgeous with the late-summer tan and fierce eyes, nostrils flaring and my fate in his hands.

  My insides turn liquid. My God, he’s in his purest form. All these years, and never have I seen this magnificent person standing before me. I’m transfixed. Goose bumps rise on my arms and the back of my neck.

  He walks out of my view.

  “Count.”

  By the time I count twenty, my head hangs forward on my neck. My cells hum.

  I fall to my knees when the rope between my hands is released from the hook on the ceiling, and then I fall forward to lay my cheek on the floor. The hard floor feels cool on my face.

  His hand cups my exposed pussy. Then he inserts a finger inside me and lingers there as if gauging my readiness. When he begins pumping, he adds a second finger and continues for several minutes until my inner muscles are clamping down on him. I’m ready to come when he pulls his fingers out. I actually slump in disappointment. He walks around to the front of me and I’m looking at his shoes again. He toes them off.

  “You are captivating in that pose.” The sound of his zipper reaches my ears. “It communicates utter submission to me.” His pants drop to the floor. “Do you submit to me, Mia?”

  He takes his socks off and kicks his clothes away.

  “Always, Levi,” I whisper.

  “Up on your knees.”

  I lift myself to kneeling. I’m high. The world wobbles around me for a second.

  Levi’s erect cock is directly in front of me, heavy and ruddy. I open for him and wrap my arms around his legs as he steps forward, sliding his cock through my lips and down my throat. I breathe through my nose and not only force myself to take it, but roll my tongue as much as I can over the underside, feeling the velvety flesh caress my tongue. In moments, my eyes are watering. I’m able to lean away from the penetration, but I refuse to move. I will take what he gives me. Nothing more. Isn’t that what he said to me? I moan.

  “Fuck, Mia!” His fist tightens in my hair.

  His cock explodes in my mouth. I concentrate on drawing his orgasm out as much as possible. His hips jump forward, his dick jerking from the force of it. And then he stills.

  When he steps back, I resume my earlier position, leaning forward and cooling my cheek on the floor.

  “I have a surprise for you.”

  “Mmm,” is all I seem to be able to get past my lips.

  He walks behind me and I feel like he’s left me. A small panic begins to grip me until I hear him moving around. The wheezing sound of the lube squirting out of the bottle initiates a reaction in my body. I’m wet and ready. No, not just ready, needy.

  In small increments, Levi penetrates my pussy with something so big I’m seriously stretched to the max. I whimper at the pleasure. When it’s all in, he turns on the vibrating portion of the big cock he’s put inside me. I responds instantly, gripping it tightly.

  He pounds it hard and fast and I’m poised, ready to detonate. When the sweet bite of his teeth close over my clit, I lose it. I’m there, in perfect ecstasy. I shout my orgasm. The sound of the cry cuts on and off, like helicopter blades are slicing through the noise. My wails stutter in time to the pounding of the massive vibrator inside me. When I reach the end of my breath, my lungs remain empty until my orgasm slows enough to take a breath, and then the rest of me joins my cheek on the floor.

  Levi holds my limp body next to his while I return to him. The process from inert to animated progresses reluctantly within me. The intensity of the stupor I escape is substantial and I’m not in a rush to leave the contented space I occupy. Right now, everything is perfect.

  While Levi caresses the stray hairs that have been pulled free from their own restraints, I hum my enjoyment of his cool touch on my hot cheek.

  Levi separates from me, leaving a devastating emptiness at my back.

  “No.” I groan. Only seconds later, he’s back, lifting and turning me so I’m settled comfortably in his lap.

  I crack my eyes open and close them against the room’s brightness. He puts a bottle of water to my lips and I gulp greedily. He holds me, rocking me like a baby. I snuggle into him for a few more minutes before I have the inclination to speak.

  “Did I do okay?” I murmur against his chest.

  “Mia, you were perfection.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’ve had so many daydreams of this moment and none of them were sweeter than the real thing.”

  “You should have told me,” I say through my shallow breaths and buzzing ears. “It’s important to me that you’re happy.”

  His eyes soften. “I feel the same. That’s why I waited. You needed to be ready for this.”

  “Now I know why you insisted on the four poster bed,” I giggle.

  “Men are deviant fucks, babe.” He chuckles. “And I’ve heard it all and done most of it.”

  “Thanks to you, I think I can say the same thing.”

  “Are you feeling okay? I have to break down.”

  I laugh out loud. “Break down?” You sound like we’re a band on tour or something.”

  “Look around,” he says with a wave of his arm.

  I did. “Hooks and cuffs and paddles, oh my!” and then giggle again. I’m not exactly sure why I giggle so much on our Friday dates. It’s so not my style any other time.

  I’m watching Levi cleaning and stowing away our equipment when he holds up a giant blue gel-looking dildo. “You like?” he asks.

  “Ahhh, I knew that gigantic cock inside me was new. It was…” I shake my head. “That thing is a monster.”

  He looks up, smiling at me when he’s done cleaning it an
d I enjoy the stretch of his muscles as he tucks the giant blue penis into the corner of the closet. “Why aren’t you putting it with the rest of our toys?”

  He looks over his shoulder at me. “I’m afraid one day the girls will snoop in here and find our toy drawer. Everything else in there is innocuous, but that thing? It’s a big blue cock, veins and all. I don’t want to be responsible for putting any image involving you, me and that cock in either of their heads.”

  I nod. “You have a point.” I laugh. “I can imagine the looks on their faces when they try to figure out what we do with it.” I make a disgusted expression I’m sure is reminiscent of the twins.

  “That’s it! That is the look.” He’s laughing and pointing at me.

  I continue to watch as he continues to vanilla-ize our room.

  My limbs still feel a little heavy but my heart is as light as the breeze, sifting through a spring afternoon.

  Lately, my feet barely touch the ground anymore. The weight of the world is lifted and Levi keeps me feeling lighter than air.

  Levi

  I watch Mia get ready for our annual Labor Day party. The weather is going to be perfect, sunny and hot. Soon, the entire extended family will be trudging in with food, rafts and towels. I go back to setting up tables and chairs, smiling like an imbecile.

  I’m loving life. That’s all the insane feelings raging though me wrapped up neatly into one sentence. Everything is perfect. This year has, without a doubt, been the best of my life. I’m afraid I’m going to jinx this wild wave of happiness by just reflecting upon it and realizing how precious it is.

  Sometimes it feels too good. If a man reaches the pinnacle of what he’s dreamed of in his life, where does he go from there? Is it midlife crisis time? Time to go out and spend ridiculous amounts of money on a car I don’t need or change my hair and wardrobe and walk around saying things like “dude” and “whatever”?

  It’s a scary thing to feel like you have it all. I think it’s because now I’ve recognized the ultimate joy I’m feeling on a daily basis, I also recognize it won’t last forever. Nothing lasts forever.