Thank you so much for the reception to Pt. 1. Pt. 2 moves us a bit closer to Faith and Ms. D. Pt. 3 is forthcoming, I'm having so much fun with these characters that you might be seeing them for a little while. Please comment and like, and do not forget to check out Pt. 1 if you haven't yet.
*****
Chapter 3
Sighing profoundly, I pushed the punishing Hitachi wand further away from me. This was my fourth time edging myself for the day and I was growing increasingly frustrated with each attempt.
Orgasm denial may have sounded fun in those stories but I haven't been able to think about much else besides Ms. D's fingers inside me again since last week in the library.
Oh. My. God. That definitely was not what I'd expected. I could close my eyes and still feel her there, so deep, so firm. And that kiss... My toes still curl thinking about it. Definitely a delightful prelude to what I hope will come next.
Though, it's been a week since I last saw her. A sub taught our last class. On a conference trip, the note on her office door read. She hadn't responded to any of my texts and I was getting ready to believe that she'd gotten cold feet until I was called by the mail room to pick up a package earlier.
Not expecting anything, I was surprised to find a black wand lying on the satin interior of the box. A simple note, "No orgasm without my permission. Enjoy." Was she trying to be funny?
Yet here I was, driving myself crazy with desire. I didn't question my need to obey her, even though there was no one to tell her I didn't follow her instructions. The mere fact that I couldn't get what I want increased my pleasure, thus my frustration, tenfold. But thinking about her body pressing me against, her tongue dancing wildly against mine as her thigh pressed between mine...
Reaching again for my instrument of torture, I heard my phone beep. My best friend Letitia wanted me to attend this party for one of our teammates. Choosing between spending the rest of the evening cannibalizing myself and going out to get white girl wasted was not hard at all.
A couple of hours later, I was well on my way to that goal from the table with the best view of the dance floor. The drinks were abundant and free, the music loud and relevant, and the girls queer and half-naked; the perfect recipe for a good night. Waving at the mixed little thing, who according to Letitia had been staring at me since I walked in, I offered to get the next round.
At the bar, she approached me and introduced herself as Venus. After dragging me to the dance floor for a couple of songs, we soon found ourselves making out furiously in the bathroom. It felt good to take and be taken, instead of unsuccessfully throwing myself at a woman who only saw me as a toy. Granted I wasn't sure I didn't want to be her toy, but I definitely hated being ignored.
So there I was in the dimly lit bathroom of the popular nightclub, one leg over the sink conveniently placed in the handicapped stall, one firmly planted on the ground, with the sexiest girl at the party, kneeling in front of me, face-deep in my pussy. She sure knew how to use that tongue, so well that I was nearing an orgasm in minutes. Sliding my fingers through her curls to secure a firmer grip, I rode out my pleasure loudly, comforted by the already noisy atmosphere.
I tasted myself on her lips and got ready to return the favor when a few angry knocks and an offer to join came from the stall door. Laughing, we ran back to the dance floor where Letitia, designated purse holder for the night, waving my phone at me.
- "Someone named "Her" called earlier," she said as soon as I reached the table.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
- "Did you answer?"
- "You're okay, who's that?"
- "Nobody."
Ignoring the collective "oooohhhh" from the table, I took my phone and headed outside. Fuck. This must have been my first time sobering up so quickly. Not only did I come without permission, it was not while using her wand. And she definitely was not going to appreciate the whole other person thing. Fuck.
- "Hello, Mistress?"
- "What are you doing?" At least she sounded playful.
- "Um. At Lumière. My friend Leticia dragged me to my teammate's birthday party."
- "Interesting. When do you plan to get out? I want to see you." What was I? A sidewalk girl?
- "Um.. didn't really have a time."
- "Good. I'm sending you a car."
- "Um."
Click.
No more than 30 minutes later, I was riding in the back of a Camry, singing along to Beyoncé with a very friendly and gay Lyft driver. With all the alcohol, the weed, the guilt, and the endorphins from my recent screaming orgasm in a bathroom full of people after an evening of edging, I was riding high when we finally arrived at a little cottage on the outskirts of town.
I knocked softly on the carved wooden door, yet no response came. It gave way with a small groan when I turned the handle. The lighting was dim, elegant. Giant paintings adorned the walls and bookcases of all shapes could be found around the large foyer.
- "Hello? Ms. D.?"
- "You look like a whore." Her voice came from behind me, startling me.
- "Gotta say, I kinda feel like one right now." There, how about them apples? We moved to the living room where I simply sank into the plush cloud that was her couch.
- "Have you been drinking?" she replied, ignoring my pointed answer, with what I guess was concern on her face.
- "What's it to you? Why was I summoned here in the middle of the night?" I asked, my tone raised. Was I trying to get choked again?
- "Excuse me?"
- "You ff-fucking left! Ff-for a week!" Jesus, I guess I was drunk after all.
- "So. You felt neglected."
- "Whatever. I'm not yours." I heard her groan and expected an outburst but nothing came.
- "Stay here. I'll make you some coffee."
Her face was completely blank, giving me nothing. Sucking my teeth, I settled more comfortably into the couch, looking up at a painting of an oceanic view on her ceiling. This really was a beautiful house. Everything seemed so carefully picked. The artist had a distinct style, and the blue was so...
***
...the last thought I remember from the night before. I woke up in a foreign bed. Literally, made of bamboo with 4 high posts. 2 giant windows gave a breathtaking view of the woods that it took me a while to tear myself away from. Only to realize that I'd been undressed. A soft, dark red satin babydoll had replaced my leather miniskirt and velours crop top. My thigh-highs had disappeared and I scanned the room for my boots, also absent. I located my phone, thankfully, and stood up to pick it up from the dresser, when I suddenly felt my world spin.
Ugh, I hate alcohol. And hangovers. And clubs. And pretty strangers with sweet, generous mouths that had probably ruined this whole thing for me. Okay, maybe I did that. What the fuck was I thinking last night? As soon as I tell her what happened, this will probably be the end. Before it even started. Couldn't believe I wouldn't know what she tastes like, feel her weight on me, in me, play those filthy little games with her, that'd fuck my mind as well as I knew she would my body. Fuck, I was so stupid.
A sticky note on my phone told me to "take take a shower and join me in the kitchen. I'm waiting." I wanted a bath in the giant tub I peeped next to another big window with the same view in the bathroom adjacent to what must be her room. But I guess I wanted her in the best mood possible. Her scent was everywhere, including all over me. We'd slept together? I glossed over the warmth the thought awoke deep in my belly and instead hopped into the large shower in the corner for a quick one, as the tone of the note suggested. But... how the fuck was an adjunct professor/ PhD. candidate able to afford this place?
Twenty minutes later, when I walked into the vast kitchen smelling of coffee, delicious red meat, and spices, I didn't think to ask her that first. Damn, she was beautiful. Gone was her nerdy, 'yet probably a freak', daily look. She turned into what I could only describe as a sexy hippie.
Her long, always neatly maintained dreads now cascaded towards her waist instead of the stern bun she usually kept them in. Her long yellow patterned dress kissed the hardwood floor and danced around her legs with every move she made. The thin straps, plunging neckline, and the clear shape of her protruding nipples revealed that she wore no bra. All making me realize that I've found myself in a constant state of arousal whenever near this woman lately.
I hadn't realized how famished I was until I finished the last crumbs of the giant burger she placed in front of me. While I ate, she lit a joint and walked to the back patio overlooking the garden and the woods in the background to smoke. There, a small bookcase stood next to a balancing chair. A record player and small speaker sat on a small turquoise table on the other end. I watched her elegant movements from the tall sliding doors leading outside, enjoying the calm morning vibe before I inevitably got kicked out once she learned the truth.
Unable to prolong the moment of reckoning, I joined her outside. After I thanked her profusely for the excellent meal, she handed me the joint, advising that it may help with the remnants of my hangover. I took it, trying to garner enough courage to tell the truth.
- "You came for someone else last night." Her tone was even. Having just inhaled, I went into a coughing fit.
- "How did you find out?" I responded when I could finally catch my breath.
- "Your friend called and blurted out something about a cute redhead at the club before realizing it wasn't you."
- "You answered my phone?" Who the fuck did she think she was?
- "You didn't tell her you had left. She was worried and was blowing you up. Also, not the most poignant part of the story."
