by Ward, Deena
He didn’t leave me in want. His fingers pushed inside me again, in pussy and ass, and he easily lifted me up again. Soon, I stopped thinking about the plug and anything other than obeying his renewed commands not to come.
The effort to hold off my orgasm increased to herculean levels when finally, I heard the sound of his belt buckle, the unzipping of his pants. I wanted to cry in relief.
I quivered at the now-familiar feeling of his hard cock pressing against the opening of my pussy. And when he slammed himself home, my body accepted its master gratefully. He fucked me steadily, firmly, his fingers still moving inside my ass.
“From here on,” he said, all gritty and growly, “you’re not to come without something in your ass. Fingers, probes, plugs, whatever. Something has to be in your ass before you can come. Even when you masturbate. Understand?”
I managed to gasp out a “yes, Sir.” In the back of my mind I wondered when exactly I might be masturbating, since it wasn’t something I needed to do, not with Gibson keeping me more than satisfied.
“If you obey me,” he said, “you’ll be ready for me sooner. You want to be ready for me, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good.”
His fingers twisted inside me. His other hand closed over my shoulder.
I was ready to soar. He had to let me come soon. He had to. I couldn’t last much longer. And he was breathing so hard now, and fucking me faster and faster. God, I couldn’t stop it. I had to.
He pushed a third finger inside me, pumped me hard. I cried out.
“You can come now,” he said.
And I did. Gloriously, wildly. Loudly.
And not long after, so did he.
I woke in the wee hours of the morning, alone in our big bed. I sat up, looked around the darkened room. No Gibson. I listened hard, thinking he might be in the bathroom, but no. The door was open and it was just as dark as the bedroom.
Gibson was gone.
He’d been wrapped around me when I fell asleep, I knew that much. I was exhausted after spending several hours in his dungeon. He’d had to prop me up in the shower to get me cleaned up afterward, my legs were so shaky and unreliable.
The last thing I remembered, he’d been spooned against my back. I fell asleep that way, our breath synchronized.
Maybe he got hungry and went to the kitchen for a snack. I wouldn’t mind a bite myself, I decided, so I climbed out of bed, found my robe and headed off on the long walk to the kitchen.
The mansion was shadowed and eerie at night. It made creaking noises that I couldn’t get accustomed to. By the time I reached the bottom of the big staircase, I was half jumpy from the real and imagined sounds of the place.
Then I heard a loud clang down in the west wing and nearly leapt up in alarm. I let out an embarrassing eep of surprise, embarrassing had anyone been there to hear me.
What was that sound? It clanged again. The impact of metal on metal. Another clang. I thought I knew what it was now, and headed down the corridor to confirm it.
The closer I got to my destination, the more certain I became. The sounds were coming from Gibson’s gym, from one of the weight machines.
I peered around the open doorway. Sure enough. There was Gibson, lying flat on the bench press machine, pushing up a pile of metal weights that clanked together when he lowered them down. It was an old-fashioned machine, originally owned by Gibson’s father, and still used by Gibson for sentimental reasons, I presumed.
He couldn’t see me from where he lay, so I stood in the doorway and watched him in silence. He drove himself hard, his arms straining under the great weight, his grunts of effort echoing in the room.
I couldn’t imagine why he might be working out. It was almost four in the morning. Who exercised at that time of night? And he seemed like a possessed man, going harder and faster than I’d seen him go before.
I debated making myself known to him, and eventually decided against it. I slipped back down the corridor and returned to the bedroom.
I dug out a bag of chips I kept stashed in my nightstand and sat in bed, munching and contemplating the eccentricities of wealthy businessmen. Maybe I’d ask him tomorrow what was up with the late night workouts. Mostly, though, I thought about how we needed a mini fridge in the bedroom, stocked with drinks that went well with chips.
I drifted off later, still alone in bed. When I woke in mid-morning, Gibson was curled against me as if he’d never been gone.
I didn’t mention anything to him about the incident. At first, it slipped my mind, and when I did recall it, it didn’t seem like a big deal in the light of day.
That evening we went out to eat with the Hoytes. It amused me to watch Gibson and Ron together, Ron being so loud and brash and Gibson so polite and reserved. They seemed to like one another, though, in spite of their differences.
Between courses, Elaine and I slipped off to the ladies room, leaving Gibson and Ron to their discussion of civil war era firearms and ammunition.
The restroom was one of those ornate types, complete with a wall of vanity stations and velvet seats. There was no attendant, and no other ladies, which left Elaine and I alone for the first time that evening. We sat at side-by-side mirrors, more for the chance to chat than any real desire to primp.
“I’ve missed you, honey,” Elaine said. “But I’m glad to hear school and your new job are working out. You look happy for the first time in forever.”
I smiled. “I am happy.”
“Mostly because of Gibson.”
“Yeah. That obvious, huh?”
“On both of you.”
“Good to know.”
“You must see it.”
“You’re right. I do,” I said. “It might sound silly, but it’s like I was always meant to be with him. It’s so ... I don’t know. It makes sense. And living together has been so easy.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “I should think so. How many servants have you got in that joint anyway?”
“Fewer than you’d think.”
“Come on, fess up. You never have to clean anything, do you?”
“Well ... no, I don’t.”
She sighed, as if in bliss. “Do you know what I’d give to never wash another pan? Oh, or scrubbing toilets. It would be the best ever if I never did that again.”
“You have a cleaning service that comes once a week, as I recall.”
“Yeah, but I bet your bathroom is spotless all the time and you never even have to rinse out the bathtub, do you?”
“I don’t have to, but I do anyway. Old habits.”
“Servants to wait on you, a mansion with everything you’d ever want, and a handsome hunk of a man to sleep with at night. You may have had some troubles, honey, but it seems to me that the universe is seriously payin’ off its debt to you.”
It was true. The cost of getting there may have been high, but I would have paid it all over again for the wondrous reward of Gibson.
“I don’t care about the house,” I said, “or the servants. Oh, don’t make that face. You know what I mean. Gibson’s what’s important. He’s everything.”
Elaine smiled warmly, reached over and patted my hand. “You’ve got your priorities in the right place. Good for you. I feel the same way about Ron. I could be broke and on the streets, but as long as I have Ron, I’ll be fine.”
I nodded.
“However,” she said, “he’s not perfect. It wouldn’t kill him to mop a floor or do a load of laundry every once in a while.”
“I can’t see Ron pushing a mop.”
“Good thing, cause you sure never will.”
I laughed.
We futzed in the mirrors for a moment.
“So,” I said, “you and Ron been hanging out with anybody lately?”
“You know us. Always busy.”
“Mmhmm. With who?”
“Friends. You know. The usual.”
“No one special, or anything like that?”
“Oh, I
don’t know.”
I turned on my seat to face her. “Come on. Give it up. Have you still got a thing going with Paulina and Xavier, or don’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I didn’t mention it before, but I saw you and Ron doing the walk of shame from Paulina’s house the morning after the picnic.”
She appeared genuinely surprised. “You did? Then all this while you’ve been —”
“I’ve been patient, waiting for you to tell me what’s going on.”
She glanced at me then turned back to the mirror, blowing out a long breath. “I don’t know what’s going on. Paulina is ... difficult.”
“Well duh. She’s the bossiest person I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t mean that way. Maybe you didn’t notice, but there’s certain situations where I’m pretty fond of being bossed around.”
“I know, but Paulina’s so, so, overbearing. A know-it-all. And persnickety as hell.”
She raised her chin slightly. “Well, I think she’s wonderful.”
“Aha! I knew it.” I grinned.
“You didn’t trick me into anything, missy. You already knew I liked her.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t know you thought she was wonderful.”
“Quit teasin’ me.”
“I think you’re blushing.”
“I am not.”
“You might have been.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I assume that Ron’s okay with it,” I said. “I mean, he was walking the walk with you that morning.”
“Yes, Ron’s okay with it.”
Now to get to the gist of what I’d been itching to know. Of course, I didn’t want to be crude about it. But if she were to be carefully led into revealing certain particulars, well then, that would be exactly what I was aiming for.
I fluffed my hair and tried to be casual. “So, you all get together and ... do stuff. I guess with Toy, too. I mean, I figured Toy is important to Paulina, so ... and then there’s Xavier. You never said how you feel about Xavier. And it’s all kind of ... complicated, I’d think. Difficult, you said.”
She revealed nothing while I flailed about, until I said difficult. “She’s a complicated woman. It’s not easy to know where you stand with her.”
“Really? She’s so mouthy, I mean, vocal, usually.” I glanced to the side, to gauge her reaction. Nothing. “I’m surprised she hasn’t told you in a million different ways exactly where you stand and how you could stand better.”
Elaine smiled then, but it was short-lived. “Yeah, that’s what you’d think. But it’s not so.”
“Maybe she’s playing hard to get.”
“I don’t think that’s it. She’s gettable.”
“Er, okay, then she’s playing the hot and cold game. She’s a woman. She’d know how that makes us crazy.”
“Possibly. I don’t think she plays games, though.”
I actually couldn’t see Paulina doing that either, but I had no other ideas. Too bad. Elaine appeared concerned about the situation, and I wished I could help her the way she’d helped me so many times. “I can talk to her, on the down-low, of course. Grill her for info about her feelings for you.”
Elaine’s head whipped around to face me. “Don’t you dare! She’d see through it in a second and think I put you up to it. You’re about as subtle as a crow cawin’ in a bullhorn.”
“Okay, okay.” I added in a mumble, “I’m not that bad.”
Her phone buzzed. She picked it up, checked it quickly then turned the screen to face me. It was a text from Ron: “Did u fall in?”
Elaine smiled as she stood up. “If they’ve talked themselves out of guns and ammo stories enough to notice we’re still gone, then we’ve been in here way too long.”
I stood up and followed her to the door.
She chuckled under her breath. “‘Did you fall in.’ That man. He’s been telling the same dumb joke for twenty years.”
I thought about Gibson, and saw into a distant future where one day, it would be me shaking my head because I’d heard some story of his for the millionth time, or groaning because he told an ancient joke.
A rush of pleasure surged inside me. It happened often of late, those surges. One of many delightful side effects of happiness.
We went to Private Residence after dinner for some drinks and to watch a couple of the Hoytes’ friends put on a show in one of the display rooms.
I wasn’t particularly surprised when Xavier and Paulina showed up, playing the, “Oh, my, imagine meeting you here,” story. I didn’t buy it for a second. Toy followed behind them, leashed up and smiling as usual.
So, what began as a small party turned into the seven of us watching a small man drip hot wax all over a large woman. The real show, however, was the flirtation between Paulina and Elaine.
They sat next to one another. Elaine tittered at Paulina’s dry, running commentary about the exhibition, and actually batted her eyelashes a few times. Paulina was so puffed up I was amazed her butt was still in contact with the seat of her chair. It was completely disgusting, and cute as hell.
Xavier and Ron were deep in conversation about the melting temperature of different types of wax, while Toy sat on the floor at Paulina’s feet, gazing up at her adoringly.
Not long into the demonstration, I turned to Gibson. “I don’t know about you, but I get the feeling we’re the sixth and seventh wheels on a five-wheeled kink-mobile.”
He grinned. “What do you say we roll on out of here, then?”
“You’re so sexy.”
“Sexy enough that I should tell Lawson to take the long way home?”
“Definitely.”
We made our excuses to everyone and left without any real argument from any of them.
We passed Patsy in the hall. I hadn’t seen her often since we did Elaine’s doctor show together. We hugged, spoke briefly, then parted.
I turned and watched where she went. Sure enough, she knocked on the door of the room Gibson and I had just left. When the door opened, and before it shut behind her, I heard Ron call out, “Patsy! At last!”
“Unbelievable,” I said. “Make that a six-wheeled kink-mobile.”
“You should be happy. Weren’t you concerned that there was no one for Xavier and Ron?”
“True. But I wouldn’t put it past Paulina to suck Patsy into her domme-y gravitational pull. Her head’s big enough to do it.”
Gibson laughed. “Believe me, Xavier and Ron aren’t hurting in any way.”
“Is that so? Do tell.”
“You’re nosy.”
“Who wouldn’t be?”
He just kept smiling and wouldn’t tell me anything more than what I already knew, darn him.
On our way to the car, I sent Elaine a text: “U r nuts. P crazy bout u.” I didn’t get a response. I hadn’t expected one since she was too enthralled with the “wonderful” Paulina to check her phone.
Gibson and I did, indeed, take the long way home. And once we were back at the estate, we spent the remainder of the evening watching old movies, talking and snuggling. No trips to the dungeon that night. In the morning, he was asleep beside me, and as far as I knew, hadn’t budged all night.
Sunday evening, we returned to his dungeon, and once again, the focus was on preparing me for full anal sex. This time, though, he changed my position, added in distractions like nipple clamps and some other minor torments.
He continued to demand that I hold off my orgasm, something that paid off in the end with superior climaxes, but which was torturous in the process of getting there.
At one point, when he was pushing my limits with a serious spanking while a good-sized butt plug filled me, I saw that look in his eyes again, the same one from Friday night, the intense one that both excited and scared me.
I recalled other times when I’d seen that look. In the Frederick Hotel, the second time we were together, for sure. In the condo, definitely, more than once.<
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I didn’t know how far he would push me; all I knew was that I was ready to let him. Was ready to fly with him.
But yet again, he pulled back at the moment when he seemed most certain to forge ahead. His gaze simply calmed. He made me repeat my safe words.
Then just like on Friday, he distracted me from my disappointment by pouring on the stimulation in other areas, making me forget I’d ever wanted anything other than what he was currently giving me. How, exactly, was I to remember or ponder mysteries when I was being treated to some of the most incredible climaxes of my life? No one could have.
Hours later, though, when I woke around 3:30 in the morning and found myself alone in bed, I had plenty of time and attention to devote to the puzzle of wandering lovers.
I got out of bed and was in the process of pulling on my robe when I caught a movement outside. I looked toward the veranda, out the glass doors and onto the rolling lawn. Something was moving down there.
I went over to the doors. A big, three-quarters October moon filled the night sky, shedding loads of light over the ground. My gaze was drawn to movement again. There, on one of the paths leading to the lake, a figure was running. Jogging.
My first thought was that there was a thief on the loose, but that was unlikely, considering the state-of-the-art security measures, complete with a gatehouse manned by a guard who regularly patrolled the perimeter.
And anyway, something about how the figure moved seemed familiar. It was Gibson. Had to be.
Why in the hell was Gibson outside jogging? I opened the doors and stepped onto the veranda to get a better look. The stone underneath my feet was freezing and the air was more than nippy. I guessed the temp was in the lower forties. Not exactly prime jogging weather.
I stepped up to the railing and strained my eyes to see details in the dark. No use. But I was more certain than ever that it was Gibson running on the path. I watched the shadowy form head to the lake, then take a side path which I knew circled the shoreline. I watched until he disappeared from view.
I returned to bed and shivered under the blankets, tucking my feet underneath me to try to warm them up again. I was half frozen from my short stint on the balcony, yet Gibson was out in the cold of his own free will.
