Twenty
As had become their usual pattern, it had been several weeks since their last encounter. They both enjoyed the sexual energy that built during time spent apart, particularly as they teased one another relentlessly through the magic of sexting.
One night she decided to ask him (electronically) about something she wanted to try. Considering their last encounter and the mutual enjoyment it had produced, did he have any secret sexual desire that they had not yet explored. The thought of him spread eagle on the bed, bound and blindfolded was very inviting, she snickered to herself.
His reply was simply that he loved it when she took over during sex, that it was nice to occasionally be controlled/used. So, this became her theme for planning their next carnal outing together.
Her first task the very next day was to do some research. She typed in few keywords on her Nook and found some books that might be helpful. One was called The Family Jewels. "Maybe I can learn some new tricks about what's between his legs," she thought. The book was downloaded, and she spent the rest of the work day anxiously wanting to open it up and begin her research.
That evening, over a glass (or three) of her favorite berry wine, her mind began to open as she read page after page. It didn't take her long to realize she was obviously much more naïve than she had previously imagined! Cock and ball torture, seriously? Certainly there were a few men she'd love to haul off and put a boot into their nuts (one particular boss came to her mind immediately), but he wasn't one of them!
She texted him that night she had been researching the role of a dominatrix. "Interesting" was his only reply, and that was after several minutes of delay. Obviously, he was either contemplating what she was saying, or having second thoughts. She followed up with, "If you want me to wear leather though, you will have to buy it."
His reply was rather adamant that leather and whips were not his thing, and "I sure as hell don't want my balls punched," he exclaimed. She asked him, "But you will be my slave, won't you? You want to be owned and used as a sex toy, don't you? C'mon ... admit it! Remember, I did it for you, now it is your turn."
"You have to commit to me that you will do whatever I say, when I say it, without question, and with enthusiasm. If you don't promise me that, then we're not going to do this. And by the way, if you say yes and then back out, you can say goodbye to my pussy for a month or two." She ended the message with a smiley face.
Oh sure, to that he responded "Will you talk dirty to me?" and added a smiley face with horns to his text reply. Still no real hint as to what he really thought about this. She was going to have to set the hook in his mouth a bit more before reeling him in.
So the question became how could she totally turn him on, taking over in a dominating fashion, without the torture she had been reading about? Slowly a plan came together in her mind.
She made the hotel reservation and sent him an email telling him where to meet her the next Friday at 7pm. "Do not be one second late!" she added to the note, just to be a bit bossy from the start.
The email he received gave him the location of a swanky casino not far away, but this time he was to knock on the door of their room. Odd, normally she would leave him a key at the desk. "What is she up to this time?" he wonders to himself.
Exactly at the appointed time he knocks on the door of the upscale suite. When the door opens, she reaches out and grabs him by the lapel of his jacket and pulls him into the room. The door is slammed closed behind.
She pushes him up against the door with her body, pinning his arms up against the door, then giving him a long lingering kiss. Her left hand slides down to his beltline, and then lower. She feels his manhood respond immediately through his pants. She squeezes its growing mass through the fabric, eliciting a moan/whimper from him.
While he is still recovering from the surprise attack entrance, she leads him to a chair in the middle of the room, turns him, and pushes him down into it. He starts to get back up, but she stops him with her left hand planted firmly on his chest, while the right hand wags its index finger back and forth, indicating that was a 'no-no'.
He smells the fragrance of her favorite scent for their rendezvous' from Body & Bath called Sensual. She liked to put the oil in her bath, and spray the sheets with the scent. Normally, the scent was understated, but tonight, it is a powerful presence. It is as if she was making a statement to the effect that this was her playground, not his. He notices there are also several candles lit around the room, providing enough light to see everything, but not so much as to make everything clear. There is a soulful jazz tune playing, one he does not recognize.
She bends over in front of him, placing her hands on his shoulders. Her hips gently sway in rhythm with the music. She runs her hands down across his chest, nails extended and dragging across the fabric of his shirt. The hands continue down to his waist, down the top of his thighs, to his knees. Stopping there, she slowly squats down in front of him. Her knees are spread wide apart.
She is wearing a white button down blouse. The buttons are open down to her midsection, revealing her bra and an ample amount of glorious cleavage. The top halves of the cups are sheer black lace, with green satin forming the underside. The center of the bra is laced up with black ties, and diamond like crystals shimmer in the candle light. The construction of the bra and the underwires push her bosom up and together, forming a beautiful valley between her girls.
Her nipples are barely concealed under the lace. Pink areola stand out in contrast against the pale white flesh of her tits. He can clearly see them straining against the fabric.
The short black shirt she is wearing is a silky knit that slides up her thighs easily as she as she moves. Between her legs he can see that nothing covers her pussy. Even in the low light, he catches glimpse of light reflecting off of her labia as she squats. She is already wet for his cock.
She is wearing stockings, of course, and the shoes he bought her during their last shopping adventure. 4-inch black heels are made of alligator skin, with a peep toe. He can see her toes, polished with her favorite shade of hooker red. He is pretty sure she had visited the Vietnamese girls for a footgasm and nail treatment earlier. She knows how he loves how the high heels showcase her beautiful, slender feet. He can be turned into melted butter at the sight of her peds encased in smooth nylon and beautiful spikes.
His attention snaps back to her hands, as she removes a stocking from the waistband of her skirt. She holds it up for him to see, letting it unfurl to expose its length. She then bends down a bit and ties his left ankle to the chair with the stocking. So it WAS going to be payback for the spanking he gave her last time, he chuckles to himself. Pulling another nylon from her waistband, she repeats the procedure with his right ankle, securing his feet to the chair. Certainly, he could free himself if he wanted to, but she thinks to herself that the prospect of him trying to get away was pretty damned remote.
She runs her hands up the outside of his thighs, then tracing a path across his crotch and up his chest. She then rises from her crouching position, making sure to push her tits forward toward his face as she stood. Then she moves around to the back of the chair. He was a little nervous as she pulled his hands behind the chair and tied his wrists together with another stocking.
Her hands find the back of his neck, and begin to massage the muscles there and in the shoulders. She leans over, and breathes into his right ear, and then lightly traces its outline with her tongue. Goose bumps instantly appear on his neck, a sure sign that her intentions are effective. She then moves back around in front of him. She takes one step back while turning her left side to him, then slides her hands down to her thighs as she continues to gently move in rhythm to the tunes playing in the background.
He is hypnotized by her slow movements, his attention drawn to her every curve and hand movement. She gently rubs her hands across her bra, stimulating the flesh beneath the cups. Down across her stomach to the naked, hairless V between her legs, and then to the top of her nylon encased thighs as she slowly arches and rocks her body to the music. She pulls up against the skirt, sliding it up over her thighs as she turns to show him her ass.
As she turns he can see that the stockings she is wearing are his favorite seamed variety. He longs to feel their silkiness. He desperately wants to run his hands up her thighs, to feel the smoothness of the fabric, and then to touch her warm, wet pussy.
He can see the black garter straps framing the ivory skin on her ass as she bends over from the waist, pulling the skirt up over the cheeks of her ass. Bending at the waist and grabbing her legs just above the ankles gives him a great view of her pussy. She can't stay in the position long, for she is not a pole dancer and doesn't have the skill set necessary to balance on the spikes like that for long. Silently, she congratulates herself for pulling that maneuver off without ending up flat on her face. Oh, she would never live that down!
