"Come here" he says, barely more than a whisper. He's sitting in the chair next to our bed. I obey him because I am compelled to follow his implicit instructions. There is no forcing of the issue, not from day one. I give in to him because I want to, or more importantly, because I need to. Need... is a strong emotion.
I walk to where he is sitting in the dark. I've never seen him sit in this chair, not in all the months it's been in our room. My heart is already beating wildly in my chest. I don't fear the unknown with him. Trust is another strong emotion.
"Kneel" he tells me. I do. There is no other choice for me, though he's done nothing more than speak softly. My legs wouldn't carry me away if I wanted to run.
I want to put my face in his lap, I want to feel him in my mouth, to please him that way. Instead though, he only traces my lower lip with his thumb. I can smell him, his soap, his cologne, and it only increases my desire. He's teasing me, and he knows I can hardly stand it. As he lets his thumb slip into my mouth, I draw it in with slow sucking motions. He lets it slide in and out slowly, feeling my tongue, the inside of my cheek, my teeth. I can't help wondering what he's thinking as he touches me this way. Before him, it would have been difficult for me to imagine something so simple being so very intimate.
"You're wet" he declares calmly. It's not a question, rather a statement of fact. I nod as best I can with his thumb deeply pressing into my mouth. I can barely make out his features in this dark room, but I'm quite sure he's smiling just a bit. Then I feel his free hand on the back of my head. He strokes my hair soothingly, and replaces his thumb now with his index finger, pushing it slightly deeper into my warm, wet mouth. It's not long before his index finger is joined by his middle finger, and now I have to open wider to allow him to explore this way. His other hand comes to rest on the back of my neck, and he seems to be focusing intently on what he's doing. He pushes his fingers in, and then pulls back quickly. He's feeling my tongue again, and I am doing my utmost to relax despite the warmth building in me. He turns his hand over, and glides his fingers against the roof of my mouth.
"Easy babe" he reassures me, and he slides in further. I try to breathe deeply, to stay calm, wondering what's happening. I close my eyes and concentrate on the sensations. And then he goes further, and trips the switch that makes me gag. My immediate reaction is to try to back off, and to reach for his wrist to pull it away. As always though, he is prepared for this. His grip is strong, and my attempts to remove his hand are futile.
"You're alright," he coos at me, "you're fine, just open for me". I let my hands fall back to my sides, and open my mouth as wide as possible to accommodate him. He turns his hand over again, and I feel his fingers on my tongue. It occurs to me then that he's mapping out my gag reflexes. It's not long before he hits it again, and as soon as he does he pulls back. I manage to stifle all but a slight jump, resting my hands on his knees.
"Good girl" he tells me. Hearing those words makes me want to do the same a thousand times over. I suppose everyone has a phrase or two that sends them reeling. That's one of mine. Unable to control my urges, I suck at his fingers now, my way of begging for more. I push forward on his hand until I hit that spot again, and feel my eyes tear up. I hope that he can't see that, I don't want him to stop, and I am afraid I'll look like I'm crying.
"Ok now, that's enough... " he tells me, and slips his fingers out of my mouth. I feel sad at this, slightly empty. He plays with my hair, touching my face, my neck, and making me even more needy for him. I lean forward to rub my face and lips against his belly. The hair there tickles my nose and lips, and I smile now too. I reach for his waistband, tugging gently, hoping to free his hardness. I work carefully, slowly, kissing and nuzzling his warm skin.
"Do you want my cock?" he asks me.
"Yes" I reply, whispering.
"In your mouth?"
I nod, whispering again. "Yes."
He rises from the chair, allowing me to slide his pants down his legs. He steps out of them, and now I am face to face with his manhood. I rub my face against it, wanting to feel him close to me. His hands come to rest again on my head.
"You're gonna take all of it tonight," he assures me. I don't answer, I'm engrossed in what I'm doing. I start to kiss his shaft, licking and teasing. His hand wrapped in my hair, he gently pulls my head back.
"You're gonna take it all the way tonight. Do you understand me?" I blink into the darkness, suddenly coming out of my fog. I've never taken the whole thing into my throat, never gotten all the way down on him. Now I wonder how I'll manage, and he sounds like he's never been more serious about anything. Trying desperately to think of something, anything to say, I am suddenly aware of my heart pounding rapidly in the darkness.
"Answer me," he demands.
"I... I... I..." my head reels, and my mouth stutters.
"Are you my little whore?" he asks me steadily.
"Yes" I utter nervously.
