Breathe
Saturday, 8:38 PM
"Farah. Take your clothes off. Slowly."
She'd anticipated this. Three hours earlier, preparing herself for her Dark Prince, she took meticulous care to clean and exfoliate her entire body, scrubbing places she knew he might linger with his hands or mouth. She oiled her skin and chose her perfume carefully knowing that her smell would sear a memory for them both - Hermès Le Jardin de Monsieur.
Having already taunted and teased him for weeks with texts about her lacy lingerie color-of-the-day hidden beneath her corporate attire... hunter green felt right for this night. Thinking about the dark green contrasted with her light toffee skin made her imagine what his dark hands and strong arms would feel like wrapped around her. 'This hotel room better have mirrors,' she thought. Sliding the lingerie straps in place, the friction of the lace on her freshly waxed pussy lips felt delicious and heightened the anticipation... deep breath...
Standing in her bathroom mirror, she stepped back to get the full picture. She ran her hands up her thighs and over her buttery buttox, then up to her perfect breasts to pinch her erect nipples. She felt exquisite, supple, excited, lustful... 2 months of just chatting & texting, they'd both envisioned this night, their first night together. But, as she did a sexy twirl, biting her lip, and playing in her hair, she reveled in the idea that she was prepared to fulfill his filthiest, sadistic fantasy.
Later that night, as she waited for him in room 130, candles lit, sultry playlist, ice bucket, she prepared 2 smokey whisky sours for sipping. Between flirtatious banter, sitting on the couch in the living room, her legs draped over his lap, the conversation lulled and his face turned serious, lustful. His eyes lingered on her mouth.
"What?" Cocking her head to the side with a smirk. She licked her lips. She knew, but she wanted to hear him say it.
"You're so fucking beautiful." He squeezed her thigh for emphasis and smiled.
"Farah." He paused, not to think about it, but to savor. Even her name felt sexy and delicious in his mouth. "Take your clothes off. Slowly."
He sipped his drink, eyeing the expression on her face. He didn't know her well enough to decipher the thoughts behind her eyes. What he did know was that he was going to enjoy the night... immensely!
She put her drink down, slowly, and stood. Her heart racing. He remained seated and she positioned herself between his knees. She knew her angles and wanted to be sure the candle light hit her just right.
She started with her grey jeans, hidden under an oversized crisp, white button-down blouse. Slowly. Very slowly, she slid her pants down her legs. Her eyes on him, amused by the subtle signs on his face that his arousal was building. His pupils dilated, taking in all of her, lingering on her smooth thighs.
To insight deeper lust, she lifted her left foot, and placed it on the couch beside his thigh providing him a sneak peek to the lace and the intoxicating smell of her. She paused for their eyes to meet before starting with the top button of her blouse.
"Stop."
Obedient, she froze on that top button. He wanted to savor this moment. He ran his hand slowly up her leg from her ankle to her hip, and sighed. She felt like silk. A wave of feelings coursed through his veins, catching him off guard by the intense burn to maim her perfect skin. Looking into her eyes, he could see she was willing and anxious for him. God, she was beautiful, and so fucking sexy. His eyes burned into hers making her bite her lower lip to prevent it from quivering.
He undid his belt buckle and leaned up to slide it off his pants. Eyes locked on hers. He lowered his eyes momentarily to admire the softness and full toffee flavor of her thigh. He rubbed his hand slowly on the precise area he intended to strike first with his belt. The leather belt firmly in his grasp...WHACK. The leather made the juiciest sound when it met her flesh.
Their thoughts responded in unison - 'sssssh!!' The flood of endorphins and adrenaline overwhelmed them both. He paused momentarily watching her face, savoring the hint of pain in her eyes. But, pain was not a new friend to her... over a decade of intense pointe ballet training made her tolerance higher than most.
A smirk formed in the corner of his mouth. 'Oh, she's trying to be brave,' he thought. Hungry for more, his belt met her thigh again - WHACK, WHACK.
The pain was so bittersweet. The feeling on her flesh confirmed the feelings she had for him since their first online exchange. Intense. Through text, he made her dizzy and hot, made her nervous in the most amazing and lustful way. And alive, she felt fully alive and a curious desire to serve him.
The earnest look of pure pleasure on his face made her feel like she'd won a coveted prize. She held her breath. Their eyes met and spoke volumes without a word. Now, she knew the tables were even. She knew that she was under his skin like he was under hers. Just for that look on his face, she knew she would give into his full desire to bring her pain in all the wild, creative ways he could conjure. The need for pain overwhelmed her, a confusing, slippery fog, and she was sliding. It felt so good....She closed her eyes and let herself fall.
His brain screamed with an intense crave to devour her, savor and destroy. His dick growing in his pants. He adjusted it, feeling its full girth. Seeing the outline of it, her heart quickened and her mouth watered. 'Fuck,' she thought.
He raised his belt to strike her thigh once more, but paused. Savor. He lowered his belt. She should have been relieved, but she was disappointed.
"Continue."
She paused, frozen between obedience and a beg for his belt to sing to her once more. He was fully tuned in with her and saw the struggle on her face. He waited patiently, confident she'd make the right choice.
She closed her eyes, exhaled, opened her eyes, locked on him and continued.
"Good girl."
