Part 4
While the chili simmers Vincent has time to reflect on more than just the sexy pictures Darla sent him from her car. She'd said when she got here she wanted him to use her to come in. A sexy request, but it didn't escape him that it was the same thing she told him she'd said to those dudes when she told him about what she'd called the best sex of her life. She'd told him in that encounter she'd come so good she'd fainted.
Vincent isn't jealous about that, and he doesn't judge Darla for living out her most freaky hardcore sexual fantasy. She's a grown woman. She's free to live her life however she chooses as long as it doesn't hurt anyone. What he wonders is if that past experience was so good for her, will she ever want to do it again. When he'd asked her that before she hadn't given him a definitive no. She'd talked about regretting doing it while she was doing it even though it was the best sex of her life. Based on what she'd said, if she had told him she never intended to do it again he wouldn't have thought she was submissive.
When Darla told him about her triple penetration experience she hadn't gone into detail. She'd seemed hesitant to tell him at all, but they'd been having a conversation in which they were being honest about their sexual history. He thought part of her hesitation was because she'd thought he might judge her. He hadn't judged her, other than to conclude that she was a very sexual woman. Well, most women were sexual, even if they wouldn't admit it. Still, with minimal details from Darla he got the big picture. Just like with him, she'd had a sexual history discussion with Hakeem. She said she'd told Hakeem that being with three men, being pleased in all the ways she enjoyed being pleased all at once, was her hottest sexual fantasy. She'd said she'd only told Hakeem her fantasy because that's what they were talking about--their hottest, freakiest fantasies. She hadn't expected that it would ever happen, but Hakeem made it happen for her. She didn't say Hakeem forced her to do it or even had to talk her into it. She'd only said she'd regretted it while it was happening, but that it was good. The best of her life.
Vincent figures that having to do things they might not want to do or wouldn't do if they were in a position to refuse was part of what turned a submissive on. That lack of control. The lack of choice. The lack of personal accountability. Maybe the lack of guilt because whatever you did or had done to you was not in your power to prevent. Well, it was, but a submissive didn't want that power.
Vincent has no problem with Darla being submissive. Though it isn't his personality type, he plays the dominant with her because it turns her on and makes her happy. He doesn't need her to be as submissive as she is, but it is so fucking sexy. It makes her even sexier than he thought she was before he knew
what
she was. He's happy being involved with her, but he wonders if she can be completely happy being with him. He's sexually open-minded, but he's not into having another dude be with his woman, much less two or three other dudes. And so he wonders if at some point in the future Darla will want to relive that past experience, since she said it was the best sex of her life. If their relationship continues to develop, can she be satisfied never having that again? The only way he can know is to talk to her about it, if she's willing to talk.
Vincent realizes that while thinking he has once again left his kitchen and wandered to where his living room windows overlook his balcony, and beyond the balcony the snow-blasted darkness. He decides that rather than dwell on "what ifs" and ruin the mood Darla getting naked in her car inspired, he'll get his mind off Darla getting gangbanged by making some rice to go with the chili.
While the rice is cooking he leans against the kitchen counter with his phone in his hand, looking again at Darla's latest batch of sexy selfies, taken in her car on the Beltway in a snowstorm. That's another thing different about being with Darla. Besides being a submissive she is an internet exhibitionist, a woman who posts explicit pictures online for people around the world to admire. If he's being honest with himself, he has to admit it's a turn on taking pictures and videos of Darla while knowing others will see them, and then the two of them checking out the online reactions. After reading the reactions they're hornier for each other than usual. It's become a form of foreplay for them.
Vincent figures Darla will probably post some of these new pics online because it's been a few weeks since she posted anything. He pauses his scrolling through the images she sent him, on the selfie of her bare leg raised and her arched foot on the dashboard. That's a super sexy one. The foot fetish crowd will dig it.
He has a video of Darla giving him a foot job, but she can't post it on the website because it shows her face. In the video Darla is sitting between his spread legs facing him, with the soft, smooth, warm soles of her feet caressing and stroking his erection. She was almost as good with her feet as she is with her mouth, because she used her soft soles and the balls of her feet and her toes to manipulate him until he gushed so much precum his erection was slick and glistening. When he got close she folded herself in half and took him in her mouth and stroked him her feet while sucking him. His explosion was volcanic. To make the video even hotter she had let his cum dribble down his shaft to the root, then took all of him in her mouth to lick and suck him clean.
They'd been having sex for about a month then, and that was the second time she'd given him a foot job. After the first time she'd told him she wanted to make a video of them doing it. During their sex talk he'd told her he thought a foot job could be sexy sometimes, depending on the woman. She'd told him she liked the idea that she could make a man come using any part of her body--her mouth, pussy, and ass, her hands, feet, and voluminous breasts--and they'd even joked about things like ear jobs and forearm and armpit jobs. Back then he'd had a feeling Darla wasn't really joking. Now he knew it for certain.
When it came to sexual experimentation and fun she was way ahead of him. When she'd suggested that he get a waterproof mattress cover and a rubber bed sheet he'd asked her if it was because sometimes she squirted when she came. She'd given him a wicked smile and said, "Oh, that too." So far they'd kept the wet games she liked in the shower or tub. He figured eventually he'd get around to buying the rubber sheets.
Darla was having an effect on him, changing who he was sexually. He wasn't complaining.
The rumble of a powerful engine, and then a scraping noise pulls Vincent out of his thoughts. He goes to his balcony door and opens it. Down below in the apartment complex parking lot the complex maintenance crew are out in their plow trucks, already clearing the driving lanes. It's supposed to snow all weekend. Maybe these guys are trying to stay ahead of the worst of it.
As Vincent returns inside and closes his balcony door he realizes that he's as hard as stone and the inside of one leg of his boxers is slick with precum. This is the Darla effect. He decides that when she gets here the chili is going to have to wait.
==========
As Darla turns off the quiet street in their Laurel, Maryland neighborhood into their apartment complex, through the thick falling snow she sees flashing yellow lights at the back end of the parking lot. Their apartment complex consists of five buildings: four three-story apartment buildings with twelve apartments each, and the apartment complex office building, a one-story structure that besides housing the rental offices, has a meeting room, a small gym, and outside, a residents-only swimming pool. There's a playground at the back end of the complex.
Driving over plowed snow in the complex's main driving lane, she passes the office building on her left, and on her right the first of the four apartment buildings, which sits perpendicular to the main driving lane. If she were to turn right into the lane that passes between the first apartment building and the next building, where the lane dead ends she would reach the bank of resident's mailboxes. Residents have a key for their own mailboxes. Usually when she gets home after work she drives over there to retrieve her mail before going to her apartment, but in this weather checking her mail can wait. But thinking about her mail reminds her of something Vincent said he wants to do with her. He said he'll wait until the weather is warmer, but not so warm that people in their apartment complex will be hanging around outside at night.
Vincent told her that he's going to buy her a collar and leash, and one night he will walk her to go check their mailboxes, which are about a city block away from their apartment building. He told her she will wear her collar and leash and nothing else. Because she is who she is and certain things turn her on, she'd asked him if he was going to walk her like she is his pet, and if she should drink a lot of water before he takes her out. Vincent had shaken his head at her, given her a kiss that set her on fire, and said, "Puss, you're something else."
Puss.
He'd called her Puss, as if she was his pet, his kitty. She likes his nickname for her.
He really would have thought she was something else if she'd told him how that particular fantasy had evolved since he'd told her about his intention. Now she imagined that Vincent, her man, her owner, would walk her on her collar and leash to the complex mailboxes, and on their way there or on their way back she would need to go. She would find a nice spot on the grass and squat and pee like a good girl. And then, while holding her leash, Vincent would step to her and take out his dick and she would suck him while she was peeing. Like a good girl. And then he would need to go too, but she wouldn't let him out of her mouth. Because she was a good girl.
In her fantasy of her perfect life, super-hot things like that would be her norm. She would be married to the man who owned her, married so that they would be one flesh under the laws of Nature and of man, and because they were one flesh united by love and passion, there would be no part of either of them that did not belong in the other. He would be her best friend, her confidant, her partner, her protection--and she his--against the world outside their love for each other. That was her ideal life. She was thirty-six years old, and she had never been married because she had not yet met a man she felt could turn her absolute fantasy into her reality. She thought Vincent might be that man. Yes, she was ahead of him in some things sexual, and no doubt she had had more out-of-the-box non-vanilla experiences than him, but he was coming around.
Their building is the last one on the left. The parking lot for her building is at the back end of the complex. Lost in her thoughts, as she reaches the back end of the complex, where the main driving lane ends at a T-intersection Darla almost has to brake to a skid on the plowed surface so that she can turn left into the parking area for her building.
