Lisa is lying on her back, staring up at me. She is breathing heavily, her breasts straining the buttons of her sweater. She's lying in the middle of her bed, and I've just tied her wrists with a scarf from her closet.
She is silent and still, but her pretty brown eyes follow my movements with a mixture trepidation and excitement. I smile down at her, comfortable with the situation: my control over her and her submission. Her eyes move anxiously towards the door. Outside we can hear the low murmur of voices, the lasts guests at her party. We both know what they're discussing: how far will we go on a dare? Or rather, how far would she? About me there is probably no doubt. You might say that my reputation precedes me.
"So, you'd rather spend an hour in here as my slave than tell them the truth about your first time with Fran? My, my, Lisa, was it really that bad? Jeez, it's not like anybody's first time is all that memorable. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I mean, I'm gonna have to send Rachel some flowers or something. I'd never have thought she was so kinky to think up that dare."
Lisa continues to silently stare at me. The perfect submissive, who would have thought she'd be up for this? But there's something else about her expression now. Some sense of apprehensiveness...or fear. What's that all about?
I pause for a moment and consider the facts. How could it be that she is OK letting me take her into her room, lock the door on her friends, and tie her up on her own bed, but she is not comfortable discussing when she lost her virginity with her own best friends? And anyway, how come they don't already know? I'd always assumed that girls talked about that stuff like immediately after it happened. So why would Lisa be so secretive? And why is she so uncomfortable now when I bring it up again? After all, we're alone in her bedroom, and she's allowed me total control of her while "Fran," her supposed boyfriend is off saving heathens on some religious "mission" in South America. I mean, I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I'm not really in their circle of friends in the first place, and it was kind of strange to be invited out here to one of their parties. She's practically engaged to this guy, but here we are. In a way, it feels almost like...
"Lisa, did you put Rachel up to this? Did you tell her to dare you to come in here with me? Is that why you invited me here in the first place?"
She stares at me, and in an instant I recognize the truth of the situation. She quickly averts her eyes in the embarrassment of my discovery. For a moment, I weigh my options, then move to the side of the bed and sit by her. I put my hand softly on her cheek and turn her face towards mine. She still avoids my stare. I feel kind of like "Goran" on Law & Order, Criminal Intent, I've just cracked the case on my prime suspect.
"You invited me here because you and Fran haven't had sex yet. You haven't had sex because Fran says it's wrong. It's some kind of religious thing? Is that it? He wants to save you for marriage?"
She looks into my eyes, then, but doesn't answer.
"...but you don't want to wait."
Lisa's eyes fill with tears, and her hands struggle against the binds to wipe them. She looks so sad and vulnerable now, and not in a sexy way. I let out a breath. Look at myself for a moment in the mirror over her bureau, then lean down and take a corner of the sheet. I dab the wetness away from her eyes, then tilt her chin so that she can't avoid my eyes.
"You invited me here because Fran wants to save you for marriage, but you don't want to wait? Is that it? You figured that with him away and with my reputation, it'd be a cinch?"
Lisa's eyes betray the truth of situation. She wanted me here. She wanted me to have her. Only, she didn't want me to know she'd planned it. In affirmation, she nods her head "yes."
As I gaze down at this pretty young girl, I must admit to feeling a bit "used." But I try not to let my pride ruin the situation. After all, she is a beautiful girl. Even more so with her hands bound behind her. We are both the same age, and we both just graduated from high school together. Maybe her friends and her life are completely separate from my world, but we've known each other and been in classes together for years.
In fact, I've often tried to catch her eye, but she's always avoided my looks. Until tonight, I wrote her off as hottie, but a bit shy. Sometimes even aloof. I'd often wondered through the years whether she could be attracted to me. A few months ago, I'd caught her eying me in class, but didn't take it too seriously. Anyway, she'd been dating Fran, (we called him "J" for Jesus as a cut) for a couple of years, and me and my friends kind of assumed they'd be the first ones in the class to get hitched. Anyway, I guess assumptions do really make an ass out of you...I mean, here she was, not at all the shy, religious girl I thought. And if I ever wondered about her feelings towards me, the answer was now here, lying on the bed before me.
"So you invited me here tonight so that we could hook up. Your boyfriend isn't here, but your friends know. You wanted to trick me in here to see what would happen, is that about it?"
Lisa nods, she looks embarrassed, but maybe a bit relieved too.
"Can I ask you just one more thing Lisa?"
Here eyes now turn to mine. She nods her head "yes" and I see that there's something else now in her eyes, a softness, or willingness now. I've always secretly loved her pretty almond-shaped eyes,
"Are you as attracted to me as I am too you?"
And for the first time since we entered the room, she speaks,
"Yes."
*****
I'm lying on my side, propped up on my elbow, staring down at my pretty young quarry. She stares back at me, an intimate, reckless look on her face. My other hand rests on her hip, my thumb has secreted under her sweater and is lightly massaging the skin there.
I look down at my other hand, and turn my wrist to check my watch.
"We've still got about forty-five minutes to go. So Lisa, I'm going to ask you some questions. I don't want you to explain, I just want you to say 'yes' or 'no.' Or nod your head. Sometimes it's sexier if you don't speak. Do you understand?"
She stares back into my eyes, and nods 'yes.'
"Very good. You're a natural. Very sexy, and you didn't speak a word."
She smiles a bit at the compliment, and as I continue, I look down at where my hand rests on her hip. I move the sweater up a few inches, so that I can rest my whole hand on her soft, rounded flesh. I spend a moment or two tracing my finger across the contour of her skin, watching the dimples rise to my touch. I look up and see her staring at me. We won't be strangers for long.
"So, I'm guessing that you've gone this far before?"
She nods her head and says "yes." I move my eyes from hers and back to her midsection. My hand moves a bit farther now, disappearing again under her sweater as my fingers skirt across her stomach and then press lightly on her ribs. I can feel her heart beating now, it's fast, and her skin is warm under her sweater. My hand continues up to the base of her bra and traces the underside of her breast.
"And how about here, he's gone this far before, right?"
Lisa lets out a breathy, "um huh." I look back at her face. She is very pretty, with her high, rounded features. Almost doll-like, with a pouty little smile. I wish I could see those sexy almond-shaped eyes as my hand feels her up, but she's closed them now. As my hand continues to trace the curve of her breast, she arches her back a little. I raise my hand, and unhitch the buttons of her sweater, peeling it open to reveal her stomach, then her chest. She's wearing a white lace bra, which contrasts nicely against her dark Italian skin. Her breasts look gorgeous: high and round and so sexy as I get my first view of her cleavage. I wonder to myself what the hell is wrong with her boyfriend.
"And you've gone this far too..."
As I continue to stroke her breast over the fabric of the bra, her nipple hardens and I let it stand up between my fingers. As I draw my hand back down, I pinch it and I feel her harden more. I stop for a moment, waiting for her to open her eyes again. When she does, there is a dark, distant look in them. It is a fresh, wanton look that is incredibly erotic."