AN: This is a longer story (about 5.127 words) featuring a couple somewhat versed in bdsm switching roles for the first time.
I'm very interested in hearing thoughts on this piece as I do believe it needs some work still. (Thanks to the anon who pointed out the tense problem in the first few paragraphs.)
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Tom can admit it, even though he loves the sounds she makes and the way she shudders beneath his touch in the throes of pleasure. Deep down the question remains; what would happen if he were to give up control?
Could she do the same to him? Would his breath shudder from her touch? Could everything but her fall away for just a moment? That train of thought would always have the same result. Harsh panting in the middle of the night followed by a deep and guttural groan. The sheets would cling to his sweat soaked form while his right arm would be throbbing as he lies there, staring with sightless eyes at his ceiling.
Sometimes the desire would lie on the tip of his tongue. A difficult day where he just wasn't smart enough. Good enough. A day where nothing could stop the inevitable.
The want to clear his mind and leave every worry behind would be so strong. But the words would get stuck in his throat. The moment would pass, he'd shrug his shoulders and keep moving on to the next adventure.
Contrary to what most people would think, using his brain was the problem for once. Doubts and fears would spring up. He could work through nights for others days on end, but to be selfish was too much to bear. Janice was the person he could trust most, but still some part of him was afraid. Something would stop him, something inside that was unwilling to show that small, weak part of him.
A fear that everything would change once he would admit his need to let go for once. That fear would win until one of the many times that his mouth moved faster than anything else.
They had known each other for their entire lives and most of that time was spent in competition. Games. Pranks. Neither ever backed down from a challenge that the other made. Yet this time a joke was made and the words just came.
"As if you could top me!"
A spark in her eyes that he felt in the base of his spine. Their wrestling devolved in a far more pleasurable way than the years before. Their sweaty bodies wrapped around each other. Clothes strewn about the room while they lay panting, eyes half closed. In that moment of belonging she turned to him, cupping his cheeks to lock their gazes together.
In no uncertain terms it was made clear that the next time, he would be at her mercy. She said it so simply that it was a mere matter of fact. Blood rushed to his head and there was a jumble of words but she simply laid down on his shoulder without paying attention to any it. They laid together for hours before she left.
The next day he received an annotated list of conditions via e-mail. At first he shook his head with fond exasperation, that lasted only as long as it took the read the very first item. No amorous activities of any kind where she summed up everything that they had ever done. Even going so far as to mark and underline certain things that were most definitely not allowed. But most important of all he'd have to wait until her parents went on a trip for the weekend.
Two weeks. Two grueling weeks where he wasn't allowed to so much as touch her. She avoided meeting him whenever possible, running out of their shared classes as soon as the bell rang. Each call that got through was filled with cryptic words and innuendo that left him straining in his jeans.
By the end of the two weeks his temper was short, his arms were sore. And his classmates walked in a circle around him.
Each night his mind would bring up possible outcomes that ended with an almost frantic pumping beneath the sheets. But each and every time the haze dissipated from his mind, his feet would land back on the ground. And the doubt would come.
No matter how amazing Janice was, she couldn't possibly bring his fantasies to life. He would remind himself that first-timers always made mistakes. He was the dominant one in their relationship, she had no experience, no idea how to go about it.
When he arrived at her doorstep it showed that she wasn't ready. She ushered him in too quickly, looking paler than normal. The walk to her room was filled with an anxious silence. She told him to sit on the side of her bed while she ran back to the bathroom.
And there he sits now, determined to help and guide her. Tapping his feet while going over every little thing that could help. Racking his brain for the numerous tabs with advice posts were still open on his laptop.
The clicking of her heels only manages to catch his attention when the sound is close enough. The sideways glance is absentminded yet his head stops with a jerk. High heels, sheer dark stockings that call attention to her long legs. His eyes follow the pattern of the stockings until the soft satin finally gives way to ochre skin framed by the garter belt she wears.
A loosely tied robe shows tantalizing hints of skin. The fabric glistens as it flows over her body with every step. Her right hand loosely holds a riding crop, but the left draws his gaze with a hint of scarlet nails that play with the edge of her robe.
Her swaying hips stop before him but his gaze is gripped on her fingers as they draw up from the edge of her stocking, they trace the edge of her garter belt. Her robe is pushed aside when she caresses the lace of her panties.
A sudden tap on the underside of his chin causes him to flinch, his eyes finally rise up to meet hers. Her raven hair spills over the black of the satin. And his heart thunders loud enough that he can barely hear, her lips colored to match her nails are pulled up in a smirk. A soft tone barely hides her pleasure.
"You're liable to catch flies like that."
His mouth shuts with a click and she nods, satisfied she draws the crop from his chin to his cheek. Two quick taps leave a sting in his cheek.
"Good Boy." She steps back and twirls on her heel, the edge of her robe lifting just high that her bottom peeks out. "Like what you see?"
The hint of her bare cheeks under the robe is enough to render him speechless. A blur and a sharp pain, leather hits flesh and he pulls his hand back at the sting. His mind too jumbled at the sight of her to realize that he had been reaching out.
"Ah, ah, aah." The teasing lilt in her voice distracts from the fine tremor in her hands. "You can look but you need permission to touch."
Still reeling he can only nod slowly. Taking a step forward to cup his cheek, she caresses it with her thumb. Her eyes gaze into his with mirth lurking inside. "That wasn't a proper answer. I suppose I'll have to teach you how to speak politely."
Her hand trails down to his shoulder and she plucks at his shirt with an unimpressed glance.
In an act faster than any he had done before, the shirt is pulled up and over to be thrown somewhere to the back. With a smirk he is pushed down onto the bed while she places her knee on the edge to climb it. He scoots backwards as she advances until her knees settle on either side of his waist to straddle him. The crop lies forgotten on the bed, her fingers ghost over his skin as she speaks in a low and husky tone.
"Let me show you what good boys get."
She explores his chest, tracing patterns that raise goosebumps. He casts furtive glances between her eyes and her open robe. The soft swell of her breasts too distracting to keep focused.
He inhales sharply when she pinches a nipple, at her raised brow he tries to keep his eyes on hers. Focusing on the feel of her stockings at his sides even as her fingers continue their distracting patterns. The bed dips near his head and he bites his lip as her tongue draws a winding path up from his belly.
Her tongue draws circles around his nipple and he moans at the sensation. Slowly she begins to rock her hips, the pressure against his straining erection causes him to groan as he squirms beneath her. Her tongue leaves his skin and he lets out a sigh. She grasps his wrists in her hands, pulling them away from where his hands were fondling, to push them back down onto the bed.
He twitches and shakes beneath her while she tilts her hips. With a wicked glint in her eyes, she captures his other nipple between her lips. Sucking it into her mouth, she flicks the top with her tongue in just the way he had done so many times before. Loud moans resound through the room until they are suddenly cut off when her teeth make themselves known.
Sitting up she spreads her hands out on his chest, a slow sensuous rocking of her hips while she speaks. "This is what good boys get." She curls her fingers and rakes her nails down his ribs. He hisses out a moan as she speaks low and even. "Is this what you want?"
His reply a strangled shout as her soft hands stroke over the marks left behind. "Yes Mistress!"
She nods, pleased to see the effect that she has on him. She lays a trail of kisses from the waistband of his shorts up to his neck, all the while brushing against him with her body. Her breath on his ear as she purrs a whisper. "Good, now I'll show you what bad boys get." He shudders but doesn't know if it is of the whisper or the sweet kiss just below his ear.
She presses her body against his for just a moment before rolling off, lying back on the bed she tells him to go stand at the end. With furtive backwards glances he does as he's told. She rests on her elbows to admire the view, a smooth defined chest with a small patch of hair. Nipples still hard with one glistening from her saliva.
A lean definition to his body, with a slight trail of short hairs stretching down from his navel. His shorts pitched like a tent as his cock strains against the confinement. She scoots down to the end of the bed, resting her heels on the floor she speaks with a slow sultry tone that makes him twitch before her.
"Arms behind your back."
Her fingers slide down over his stomach, playing with the edge of shorts. Dipping behind before she grasps the edge, the fabric is pulled down and catches on the top of his cock. A slight tug and it springs free, bouncing up and down before her eyes.
