As my knees gave out, his entire hand vibrated my pussy while the tip of his finger pressed against my hot button, I drenched the hand between my legs and the smell of sex filled the kitchen. His other arm held me so that I didn’t fall and I felt protected with his strength. A rush of adrenaline at being controlled by him, my desire at his whim, encompassed me, pushing my climax to dizzying heights. I rested against him for a moment and he held me close.
“Thank you so much,” the words came out as a hoarse whisper. I was still remembering how to breathe. The scratchy hair of his chest against my soft skin kept the flame of desire hot within my belly. I wanted more. I wanted so much more. I thought about how we’d finally reached this point in our relationship.
“I want you to tie me up. I want you to take control,” the words came out harsh, almost cruel sounding. I hadn’t meant them to, but sometimes when emotions run amok we don’t always sound the way we want.
“Why? I thought you were happy with our sex life,” he stood there, his hands spread as he looked at me, as if I were a complete stranger in his bed. We’d just had a mind-blowing fuck session and yes, it had been incredible. While my body was sated, my mind was still buzzing like worker bees.
“Will you at least consider it? For me? It’s what I need, love,” I felt the beginning of tears in my eyes, but blinked them away. If I cried, he would come cuddle me and pet me and tell me anything I wanted to hear. I needed him to take control. The decision had to be all his. A firm yes, or a hard no. One way or the other, things would change.
“I’ll consider it.” My sweet man hesitated, nodded, then crawled into bed and turned out the lights.
That had been Sunday. Wednesday morning, I was waiting for a meeting to start and received a text message from him. Finally. I opened the message to see two letters: OK.
Desire shot through every fiber of my being, soaking my panties. I squirmed, hoping those sitting around the table chatting didn’t notice. Swallowing down my desire, I drank some ice water to cool the flames. Another message vibrated my phone in my lap, causing me to cough as I choked on the water.
“Are you okay?” My coworker’s concern for me was kind. The others looked at me and my face flushed hot.
“Fine, fine, just down the wrong hole.” I opened the new message to find a time, date, and place. 9AM Saturday. My apartment.
I pressed my lips together hide to prevent myself from groaning out loud. That was a very long wait to get what I wanted, but with him, I knew it would be worth it. The latecomers entered the conference room and I put my phone back on my lap. I was very glad I had little to do with this meeting. So little that I wasn’t sure why I had been included. Grabbing my pen and pulling my notepad closer, I did my best to take notes on anything I might have to remember.
Arriving home on Thursday, I found a package leaning against the door. I didn’t...
Read all about the wonderful author: Mischa Eliot