My Own Private Cheerleader

My Own Private Cheerleader, Chapter 3

 

 

I'd really thought my session with Natalie was a one-shot deal. She was young after all—still in high school, although perfectly legal (believe me, I checked)—and I figured one session with me would have been plenty to satisfy her curiosity about BDSM and send her back to her books and boyfriends and a more conventional sex life. A lot of women are curious about the more passionate and extreme aspects of sex, but when you're her age, the kind of things I'm into can be a bit much. In my experience, women don't discover their true sexual nature until their forties or so, after their child-bearing years. Up to then, vanilla is fine with them, and I figured Natalie was the same way too. It would take her a week or two to process what we'd done together and then she'd put it behind her and get on with her life.

 

So I was rather surprised when I got a call the following Wednesday night and saw her name on my caller ID.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Hi. David?" she asked softly. "It's me, Natalie." Her voice was low and breathy, as if she was speaking low so no one would overhear.

 

"Natalie!" I was genuinely happy to hear from her. "How are you? Everything okay?"

 

"Yes," she said nervously. "I guess so. I hope I'm not bothering you?"

 

"No, honey. I wouldn't have given you my number if I didn't want you to call. But what's wrong? Why are you whispering?"

 

"My folks are downstairs. I don't want them to hear."

 

I waited for her to go on, but she seemed to be having trouble gathering her thoughts. "What is it, Natalie?"

 

"I don’t know," she said. "Those things you did to me, the way I acted. It was terrible I know, but I can't stop thinking about it. I can't see you again."

 

"Oh?" I asked. I didn't recall making any plans to meet again.

 

"No. That's why I'm calling. Just to say goodbye. To tell you that it's over. I'm not that kind of girl and I don't do things like that. I have my own life to live and I want to get back to it."

 

"All right," I said cautiously. "I understand."

 

I waited for her to hang up or do something final, but she didn't. I heard her breathing on her end of the phone. She seemed to be waiting for me to say something

 

"Natalie?" I asked.

 

"What?"

 

"Aren't you going to hang up?"

 

Pause— "Do you want me to?"

 

"No," I said. "No, I don't."

 

I could feel her uncertainty on the line. I could feel her waiting for me. In that moment, I felt a surge of power a dominant feels when confronted with a sub's uncertainty.

 

"Natalie?" I said. "I'll tell you what I want. I want you to come over here. Tonight. I want to see you again and I want you to come to my place. I'm alone, Natalie, and you know where I live. Okay?"

 

"No," she said urgently, and I could almost hear her fingers tightening on the phone. "I told you, I can't. It's over between us."

 

"Listen to me Natalie. Are you listening? You're going to come over here tonight. You're going to tell your parents whatever you have to tell them to get yourself out of the house, and you're going to come over here so I can se you. You're going to do it because I know you, Natalie. I know you better than you know yourself, and I know what you need and what you want, even if you don't. Do you understand?"

 

She didn't say anything for a long time. I could hear her breathing into the phone, close and ragged. She must have had her hand cupped over the mouthpiece. A TV was playing in the background.

 

"If I come over, what are you going to do to me?"

 

I smiled, but kept my voice low and level. "Well that's up to me, isn't it?"

 

"Please," she said. "I want to know. Tell me."

 

I put the speaker closer to my mouth. I closed my eyes and pictured her as she'd been the last time we were together, naked and tied in a chair with her legs spread open. I spoke to that image. "I'm going to make you come, Natalie. I'm going to tie you up and do things to you and make you my dirty little girl. I'm going to play with that hot pussy till you're dripping in my hand. I'm going to put my fingers in you and use vibrators and do all sorts of things to you you can't even imagine. I'm going to use you, baby, and take out all my lust on you. I want you, Natalie, and I want you now, and you need me as much as I need you."

 

"No. God, I can't. I can't."

 

"An hour," I said. "An hour and a half at most. Understood? "

 

Silence from her end and heavy breathing.

 

"Goodbye, Natalie. I'll be waiting."

 

*****

 

An hour and a half later I watched from my window as Natalie got out of her car across the street and locked the door. I live in a kind of seedy neighborhood in a loft above a printer—a big place with high ceilings and wooden floors and exposed beams, old and solidly built. One of the good things about this neighborhood is that it's absolutely dead at night. The printer's closed and there's no one around.

 

Natalie was wearing a jacket over a green tee shirt and a very short denim skirt, well above her knees. I couldn't imagine what she told her parents in order to get out of the house dressed like that, but then, maybe she'd changed in the car. She looked very nervous crossing the street, though I could see down the street as the lights changed and there wasn't a car in sight. The neighborhood looks bad, but as I said, there's no one around at night at all. I have the entire block to myself.

 

I opened the door for her and she walked in looking breathless and a little apprehensive. I knew she'd have some excuses ready for why she'd come—something about saying goodbye, or this being the absolutely last time she could see me, or some nonsense like that—and I didn't want to hear it, so I immediately silenced her by putting a finger over her lips as soon as she walked in the door.

 

"Don't say anything, okay? I don't have to hear why you came, or what excuses you have. You're here now, and that's what matters. We can talk later if you like, but for now, let me just show you my place."

 

The living room is huge, and holds my sectional and the TV and stereo, a fish tank. Behind it is a dining area, and then a hallway leading into the back. There are two bedrooms on the right—one where I sleep, the other my office, and then the kitchen in a big open space. There's a big bathroom back there, and across from the kitchen is my special room—play room or dungeon or workshop, call it what you will. I'd spent the time since her call straightening up this room, since I knew this was the one that would make the impression on her. I hadn't used it in a couple of years, and it had needed some tidying up.

 

There was a crude bed with shackles attached, a heavy straight-backed chair with straps, bolted to the floor, a whipping stand. There was a leather sling chair hanging from the rafters by chromed chains, and there were other chains that ended in manacles and hooks for other types of suspension. Hanging from the exposed beams were my block and tackles and hoists and elaborate pulley systems. I'd never used all the equipment myself, but still, I liked messing with the gear. It was a fascinating and sinister place.

 

There was a metal cabinet that held the whips and clamps and vibrators; cuffs, and lubes and other paraphernalia, and I'd left it open so she could see all the chromed steel and black leather inside. I watched her eyes as she looked around. I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking that this wasn't her—she wasn't into this kind of thing. A little bondage, a little manipulation—maybe a little spanking—but not this kind of thing.

 

I took a pair of black leather cuffs from the cabinet and brought them to her.

 

"Give me your hand," I said.

 

"No, wait…" She drew back. "No, I didn't come here for this."

 

"Of course not," I said. "You came to talk. But before I can talk, I have to have the cuffs on you, Natalie. It's kind of a house rule."

 

It was a ridiculous thing to say, but I just needed some excuse to make her raise her hand. Her eyes were already wide, fixed on the cuff in my hand, on the black leather and chromed steel, the promise of helplessness. She held up one wrist for me and watched transfixed as I the cuff on, slipped the tongue through the buckle and cinched it snug. She looked at her cuffed wrist as if it belonged to someone else.

 

I did the other wrist then escorted her towards the door. I turned off the lights in the room and didn't miss the look of disappointment in her eyes. If I'd gone ahead and chained her up in that room, she would have been ready. Better to leave her wanting, though. I took her arm.

 

"We can talk in the living room," I said. "We can't stay here. This is a special place and you have to be worthy to be in here. It's not for everyone."

 

I led her back into the living room and had her sit on the sofa. I sat down next to her. That green tee shirt she was wearing was tight across her breasts, and her tits were rising and falling as she breathed. That little denim skirt didn't cover her knees at all. She picked a hell of a way to dress to come and say goodbye.

 

"Now what was it you wanted to say to me?" I asked.

 

She couldn't seem to get comfortable with her hands. Every time she put them down, she could feel the cuffs on her wrists. When she lifted them the steel rings clinked softly.

 

"I wanted to say that I can't see you anymore. That this has to be the end. I guess it's goodbye." Her speech sounded rehearsed, automatic. She kept on playing with the cuffs.

 

"Fine," I said. "If that's the way you want it. Put your feet on the table, Natalie, and spread your legs."

 

"What?" She stared at me.

 

"Do as I say."

 

Maybe she was shocked at my boldness, but she did it. I had a big glass coffee table right in front of the leather sofa, and she put her feet on the edge, though she kept her knees together. Her skirt was scandalously short, stretched tight across her thighs.

 

"You heard what I said, right? That I can't do this anymore?"

 

"Yes. And you heard what I said, didn't you? I wanted you to spread your legs."

 

She looked at me in disbelief and I said, "Don't make me cuff your wrists together, Natalie, because you know damned well that I will."

 

She carefully lifted her butt from the sofa so that she could pull up her skirt, and parted her knees about a foot. She looked as though she couldn't believe what she was doing. Her legs were bare and freshly shaved from the looks of them.

 

"There's one rule so far, Natalie," I said. "And that's that you don't touch me without my permission. Do you understand? There will be other rules as we go along, but that's all you have to know for now."

 

"But I told you. I'm not doing this anymore."

 

I didn't reply. Instead I turned to her and put my hand down her skirt, on the inside of her naked thigh, just grazing her baby-soft skin with my finger tips. Natalie gasped and clamped her legs together protectively and so I stopped. I simply stared at her until she relented and parted her legs again. She seemed utterly confused, bewildered as to why she was letting me do this to her.

 

"Hands at your sides, Natalie. And keep your legs open.. I don’t like it when you disobey me."

 

I began to stroke her leg, barely touching her and passing my fingertips over her warm, soft skin as if I were playing a harp, with hypnotic regularity. So lightly did I touch her that at times I didn't make contact at all. Still I could feel the warmth from her skin on my fingertips, as if I could feel her aura.

 

"Natalie, you came to me tonight because you wanted something. Now maybe you want to say goodbye and never see me again, but I don't quite believe that. I think you came because you know that I need you—that we need each other. You have something I want, and I have something you need. Is that about right? Scoot lower on the sofa, darling."

 

She was sitting there with her hands by her sides and her knees up and apart and my hand caressing the inside of her thigh, and now she slid her bottom forward in the seat, sinking lower so that she was almost reclining. Her eyes still looked confused, almost wild, and yet she made no attempt to close her legs or remove my hand.

 

"No," she said. "No. I have to leave."

 

"Of course you do. Of course." Every time my fingers caressed the high inside of her leg I was aware of the warm humidity of her sex, just centimeters away, a veritable delta of Venus. I was so close that I could tell without even touching her what kind of panties she was wearing—something nylon or synthetic, very slick and very snug. It was as if I could feel a static charge coming from the center f her womanhood. Her smooth skin twitched under my fingertips. "Just let me see if I'm right about something, and then you can go, okay? Just let me see one thing."

 

I let my fingers brush against the soft bulge between her legs where her pussy was compressed by the sheer fabric of her panties. I'd been right. It was some synthetic, exquisitely sheer and very snug. I could feel not only the tight slit of her sex, but the moisture already seeping from her as well. Natalie gasped and closed her legs sharply, almost trapping my hand.

 

I leaned over her and put my arm around her shoulders. I stared into her eyes. "I warned you about that, Natalie. Now open them!"

 

"I have to go," she stammered nervously.

 

"Open your fucking legs, Natalie!"

 

Slowly she let her thighs fall open, and immediately my fingers were tracing the crease between her puffy labia. I was on her right, my left arm around her shoulders. "Raise your left hand," I said, and when she did, I grabbed her wrist in my left hand. She was helpless now, her right arm trapped behind my body, her left hand held in mine. That left me with my right hand free to explore under her short, tight skirt and I grabbed hold of that sweet puff of female flesh and squeezed.

 

"This is mine, Natalie," I said, digging my fingers into that soft mound of yielding, womanly flesh. "You understand? This may be your pussy, but I know how to use it. I know how to make you feel things, Natalie, and this belongs to me."

 

She arched against me, trying to get away, but I slid my finger under the tight crotch of her panties and lifted it away from her naked flesh. Her pussy was soft and damp, already flowering open to my touch, wet and sticky, ready for sex. I slid my fingers down that sweet crease and felt her labia cling to me. She was shaved and hairless as a baby and twice as soft. I slid my finger down till I found her hole and gently probed inside with the first knuckle of my middle finger and Natalie closed her eyes as if in denial. She pretended she couldn't feel what I was doing, but I could tell that she was totally concentrated on the feel of my finger in her little quim.

 

"Oh God!" she moaned. "Stop! Please!" She slammed her legs shut again, trapping my hand.

 

I reached up and found the hood of skin over her clit, wet and slightly firmer that the rest of her flesh, and I pinched it between my fingers. Her eyes flew open in shock and pain and she grabbed reflexively at my wrist.

 

"I know it's hard, darling," I said sweetly, slowly relaxing my grip. "But don't do that or I'll have to hurt you again, understand? Now keep them open, Natalie. I want to touch that pussy, and I don’t ant you interfering."

 

I squeezed her wrist in my hand hard enough to compress the leather and scare her a little and show her that I could damned well open her legs myself if that's how she wanted to play. I'm a big guy and very strong and I wanted her to know right away that there was no sense in trying to fight.

 

Natalie bit her lip and I saw tears of pain gathered in the corners of her eye. It took courage to open her legs again, but she let them fall open again and turned her face from me as if in shame. I slid my finger up into that tight wet channel and Natalie groaned. Despite herself, her hips pushed forward to meet me. I could see her pulse beating wildly in her throat.

 

"That's better," I said as I began to slowly fuck her with my finger. "Isn't that better? It's easier this way, isn't it, sugar?"

 

She didn't answer, but I could see her breasts rising and falling as she started breathing fast and deep. The liquid was spilling from her pussy now, and every time my finger came out of her it was coated with the shiny signs of her involuntary arousal. Natalie kept her head to the side so I couldn't see her face, but I didn't need to see it to know what she was feeling. Her hips were starting  to quiver against my plunging finger. She wanted me deeper.

 

"Open your legs wider, Natalie," I said. "Give me that hot pussy."

 

She moaned in shame but did as I said, and I yanked her short skirt up higher so she could spread her knees. She looked so obscene like that, her skirt up around her hips, her tight little panties pushed to the side so my big finger could pump into her oozing pink hole. I started rubbing my thumb over her greasy little clit and Natalie started to moan. Her hips began to pump at me against her will. I knew she loved it and hated it at the same time, and that's just where I wanted her. You play a girl like Natalie like a violin—her pleasure's the strings, her shame is the bow. Play them right and they make the most beautiful music.

 

"Oh no," she said as I fingered her. "Oh, please no!"

 

"Hush, baby," I said. "Just try to relax. You're going to come, Natalie. Not yet, but you're going to come before we're done. I want you to spill it in my hand, baby, all that good come. So just try and relax and let it happen."

 

"Oh no! No!" she shook her head in denial, but the hot juice was running down my finger and her little pussy was clinging to me and shuddering like a virgin's kiss.

 

I pulled my hand from her pussy long enough to lift her tee-shirt above her breasts, then I started sucking and licking her tits through her bra as my hand went back to fingering her cunt. Her head fell back in a gesture of total surrender and I felt the fight go out of her. She would let me do what I wanted to her now. She was no longer struggling or trying to get away, and the secret submissive that lived inside of her was now in charge. I'd summoned her forth like a genii from a lamp and Natalie just basked in the pleasure of having her body used and mauled by someone who knew how to use it.

 

I let my passion go then and started fucking her deep, hooking my finger inside of her and sliding it along her smooth, slick channel. I caught her nipple in my  teeth and bit down and she groaned. But then I bit the flesh of her breast and she gasped.

 

"Please! No marks! My boyfriend…"

 

I'd forgotten about her boyfriend, so I eased up and got myself under control. I got the cups of her bra down and contented myself with sucking on her nipples as my finger squelched in and out of her juicy little hole and Natalie moaned in helpless arousal.

 

"Ah God! No!" she gasped. "You're going to make me come! Please… No!"

 

It was too sweet having control of her like this, her hot little body mine to torment as I wished. I grabbed hold of the crotch of her panties and pulled, then pulled again till they ripped and Natalie squealed in alarm.

 

"Stop! What are you doing? What…?"

 

"Hush!" I ordered, and ripped away the rest of the frail garment, leaving just the band of elastic around her waist, the crotch piece shredded and soaked from her juices, I began to finger her fast now and Natalie sunk down on the sofa spreading her legs wide, unable to hold herself back, loving the way I ravished her pussy.

 

And then I stopped.

 

Natalie lay there, panting for breath, her legs open, her pussy and thighs glistening with her own moisture. She looked at me in surprise as I got up and went and got some rope.

 

She said nothing as I tied the rope around her thighs, passing it around three times so it wouldn't slip, then passed it through the ring in her cuff. I did the same on the other side, so now I wouldn't have to hold her anymore. I stood up right in front of her and opened my pants, pulled down my shorts and let my cock spring free, hard as a rock and almost purple with suffused blood. Her eyes went wide with alarm.

 

"No. I'm not going to fuck you yet," I said. "First I want you to come. I want you to come in my mouth like a little whore. I want to taste that hot juice, Natalie. I want to taste everything you've got, and then, if you’re good, maybe I'll fuck you."

 

"Oh no," she said. "No, don't!"

 

I knew how she felt about being eaten. She loved it, but the idea of coming in my mouth embarrassed her deeply, as if it was something shameful. But I didn't care. I got down on my knees between her legs and pushed her knees apart.

 

Her little pussy was right in front of me, as pink and sweet as an orchid. I pushed my finger into her again and twisted it around, touching her everywhere, and she groaned and closed her eyes. She doesn't like it when I stare at her pussy, but I didn’t care about that either. I fingered her and then pushed another finger in along with the first and she groaned again, then I lowered my head and touched my tongue to her clit.

 

"Oh God!" Natalie screamed. I saw her hands pull tight against her bonds but the knots were good and she wasn't going anywhere. She was helpless, her legs spread, my finger in her cunt and my mouth on her clit, sucking, licking, teasing her with my tongue. I fingered her and sucked her and with my other hand I started beating off, slowly jacking my cock till the lube dripped from the tip in anticipation of skewering this little jewel and fucking the holy hell out of her.

 

Natalie slid down the sofa till she was almost flat on her back. Her legs were spread wide and her toes dug into the carpet, her thighs trembling as I fucked that little pussy and sucked her sweet flesh into my mouth, fluttering my tongue against her clit.

 

She fought me. She twisted and writhed, closed her legs on my head as if she could stop me, but nothing could stop the wild sensations that rocketed through her body/ her body tensed, her muscles going so rigid that her tits quivered on her chest, her nipples hard as little rubies and pointing straight up at the ceiling. I pulled my fingers from her pussy and spread her wide open, stretched her labia so I could lick the juicy flesh within, and as I did I vibrated my finger against the hot little nub of her clit, and that was all it took.

 

She screamed again, the scream choking off in her throat as every muscle in her body went tight and trembling. Her back arched in a convulsive spasm, pushing her cunt into my face, and then with a deep, wracking sob, she came. She came,. showering my face with a gush of hot, female oils, helpless to control the devastating effect I was having on her body. Her tummy trembled as inside her pussy clenched tight in orgasmic spasms, squeezing out more of her delicious fluids that drenched my face and wet my cheeks.

 

I shoved my fingers back into her so I could feel those delicious female contractions of a deep, full body orgasm, and I studied her face screwed up into a mask of obscene bliss.

 

She gave me everything she had, everything she'd been storing up and trying to keep for herself. All of it came out in a great, shuddering orgasm until she at last collapsed weakly on the sofa, gasping for breath, her thighs twitching feebly in a series on trembling aftershocks.

 

I stood up then so that she could see my cock, standing up proud as a wild stallion straining to break free. My balls hung below it, heavy with come.

 

"And now its my turn," I said.

 

She didn't fight me. She didn't object. She was too weak to fight as I bent over her and knelt on the edge of the sofa, then slid my cock into her still-quivering pussy. The fit was exquisite, the walls of her channels still slick with her lubricious oils, an Natalie was too overcome with nervous overload to move. She jus lie there with her legs apart, her wrists tied uselessly to her thighs as my thick, turgid cock bored into her. She groaned softly at first, but I knew it was more our of helpless shame than from any pain.

 

She was already mine. I'm no fool, and I know that a sub isn't made in a day or in a single act of sex, but I knew what she was feeling now—the helplessness and vulnerability of being used as a vessel for a man's lust, the wild, intoxicating thrill of feeling him lose control as he fucks you, the delirious sense of freedom she felt as she realized there was nothing she could do to stop me—all would come back to haunt her just as they were haunting her now, already lifting her up that next orgasmic hill—the big one, the one that would make her come on my plunging cock, a total slave to my desires.

 

I fucked her hard, showing her no mercy, overcome with the need to pour my seed into that hot little pussy, and Natalie, with her wrists bound to her knees, could do nothing but raise her knees to make a female saddle as I rode her hard. I grabbed her ass and pulled her up against me as I fucked her with bestial fury, my hips pumping into her with the obscene mindlessness of a dog fucking a bitch in the alley, fucking her so hard her tits swam on her chest. Her constant moaning was punctuated with submissive, animal-like grunts every time my loins slapped against her.

 

"Oh God!" she gasped. "Oh God! Oh God!"

 

I reached between us and slipped my fingers down till I felt her wet slit and the turgid little bud of her clit, the key to Natalie's sexual soul. I knew her by now, and I knew all I had to do was press on it as I fucked her, pushing it like a little doorbell, and Natalie went wild. She arched her back as best she could, tied as she was, and her hips began a savage and spastic pumping in a desperate attempt to make me come, and it was more than I could stand

 

"Coming in you," I gasped as I felt the spasms start. "Coming in you Natalie! Take it, bitch! Take it all!"

 

I grabbed her tits and squeezed hard as I covered her mouth with mine and plunged my tongue into her throat as if I could taste the come I was shooting into her below—hot, thick, and rich, each ejaculation feeling like it was taking a piece of my soul with it. I groaned into her mouth, grabbed her ass and pulled her to me and filled her with my semen as if she was a goblet to be filled with wine. In my excitement I slid my finger into her tight little asshole so I could feel my shaft inside her, pumping out its load of hot cream. I could actually feel the bolts of gism traveling along my urethra as they exploded from the tip deep inside her, and Natalie wiggled her as back at me with mindless urgency, as her own orgasm took her, howling out her pleasure into my mouth as that little pussy sucked and milked at me in her savage need to be filled and conquered.

 

Slowly it eased. Slowly the spasms of almost unendurable ecstasy lessened and I felt the rest of my come stream into her, growling with deep relief and satisfaction. I rested my face against her neck and felt her pulse beating wildly in her throat as she whimpered and moaned in the fading throes of her come, her thighs trembling on either side of me. Slowly we came to our senses and came down to earth.

 

Natalie lay there spent, her legs spread, my come seeping from her battered pussy, her clothes a mess.

 

I stood up and wiped the sweat from my face and looked at her. With a few deft tugs on the knots I freed her wrists from her thighs and she collapsed on the sofa, too spent to move. I sat down naked on the couch next to her and pulled her up so that I could put my arm around her. The cuffs were still buckled to her wrists. I held her tight, and Natalie put her head against my chest and started to cry.

 

"My God, what's wrong with me?" she sobbed, her tears wetting my chest. "Why do I love these horrible things you do to me? Am I that sick? Am I crazy?"

 

"No," I said, holding her tight. "You're not sick and you're not crazy and you're not a slut or a whore or anything like that. What you are is an intensely sexual female who feels things more deeply than most. You have the makings of being a sexual submissive, an unfortunate word because it makes you sound like something inferior and inferiority has nothing to do with it. Your submission is a kind of sexual power. It excites you to get me so excited I have to do these things to you, and that's how you feel your power."

 

I knew she wouldn't understand what I was telling her, not yet, but I still had to try, and I had to let her know that she was safe with me and that there was nothing wrong with her. A woman's first experience of submission can be devastating to her self image unless she understands it for the demonstration of strength and power that it is. A submissive is a powerful woman. Her power is in her ability to give. It's a rare and precious gift.

 

"Didn't you tell me you get no pleasure from masturbation?" I asked.

 

She'd stopped crying but her head was still against my chest and I was stroking her hair. The cuffs were still on her wrists.

 

"Yes," she said. "I mean, it feels kind of nice, but it's not like…like…"

 

"Like when I touch you, right?" I finished for her. "That's your submissive nature. You have to give to feel that kind of pleasure. You have to have someone take it from you. That's why you came to me, Natalie. Your pleasure is tied up with your need to give, to be used. You need a man who can take it from you."

 

She said nothing and again I had to smile. She didn't understand, but that was all right.

 

"I'll tell you what we're going to do," I said. "I'm going to teach you. I'm going to train you. We've just barely scratched the surface of what you can feel, darling. I'm going to take you further. I'm going to show you things you can't imagine. How does that sound?"

 

"Oh God, I don't know," she said. "I feel so ashamed now, so confused. I don't know what I want."

 

"Okay. Then you just go home and think about it. Calm down and think about it just like you though about our last time together, and when you make up your mind, you let me know. But for now, let's get you cleaned up. I know you have to be home soon, and I don't want you walking into your house all full of my come."

 

I stood up and pulled her to her feet and led her towards the shower. I'd get her cleaned up, take her in my arms and kiss her goodnight, then let her go back to her own home and her own bed where I knew what would happen. She'd lie awake, staring at the ceiling, remembering what we'd done here tonight. She'd get up in the morning and go about her business, but all day long she'd be feeling my hands on her. She'd come home go to bed again and lie there remembering the feel of the cuffs on her wrists, her helplessness, the way I touched her and took control of her body and made her come and come, taking her out of herself, taking her to a place she'd never imagined existed.

 

She'd think of all that and she'd be back. Two days, three days—maybe four—but she'd be back.