Happy Friday 1

This work contains elements of BDSM. If bondage and whips are not your thing please skip this story, otherwise I hope you read on and enjoy!

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and incidents are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons alive or dead is completely coincidental.

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The Bypass was worse than usual. Some four hundred year old guy hit MAYBE fifteen miles per hour max in his school bus causing everyone behind him to sneak, honk, and veer any way they could into the line of cars whizzing past in the left lane. Shit! Would he even understand if I threw him the finger? Nah. He probably couldn't even see that far. It sucked to be this pissed off on a Friday afternoon but the traffic and that clusterfuck of a web project had my blood boiling. I wondered if listening to my rap playlist would make my mood better or worse. Fuck it. Who cares! There was nothing better than blaring hip-hop through my speakers while passing by the blue-blood neighbors and their "I'm Better Than You Are" country club.

By the time I hit my driveway I thought I'd explode. I had to shake it off. Damn, I thought... where the fuck was all that anger coming from anyway? Should someone going 3 miles an hour really tick me off like this? As I got out of my Jeep the strap to my work bag got caught on the emergency brake spilling the new website folder into probably the only puddle in the county. But of course.

Puuuhhhh—leeeese let her have a glass of wine waiting for me. I wonder if she'd kill me if I gulped it down then winged it into the fire pit out back. Yeah, probably. Speaking of the fire pit, it looks like Kerry was working in the yard today. It smelled like fresh cut lawn. Damn she's the freaking bomb when it comes to that kind of stuff. Good thing too 'cause I haven't had a second to do jack-crap with this new fucked up website they want plopped in without a design, a budget, or anything else NORMAL business people provide. Damn! Okay... I had to stop thinking about this. It was Friday for chrissake!

I didn't see anyone as I cut through the garage into the kitchen; no lover, no cats, no nothing. But I did see the lights on in the basement. Maybe she was doing the wash. Yep... she does wash too. I've got it made. I slapped my coffee cup onto the counter and dropped my battered bag onto the floor exactly where Kerry told me not to put it. It was scuffing the paint off the wall apparently. But it was the best place for it, so I left it there. I slapped the soggy folder onto the counter to deal with later, or never.

"Michelle! Come down here!" I heard her call from the basement.

Huh? Was she mad at me? Not that she really gets mad. She just doesn't; 'cause she's laid back like that. My one hundred and eighty degree opposite. And we hardly ever fight. But I could TOTALLY have left a paintbrush in my smock and thrown it in the hamper or something. Crap.

"Okay! I'll be right there," I yelled down.

With a sigh I headed down the basement stairs. That part of the house was definitely more her domain than mine. The basement was dark and I hated the inevitable mildew smell but she loved to putter around with stuff down there. But this time I was pleasantly surprised to see it relatively bright down there and no disgusting mildew smell hit me as I made my way down.

As I looked over the right side banister I saw her standing by the support pole we covered with sisal rope for the cats. I almost missed the last two steps as I looked at her. I've always thought she was this mixture of gorgeous and handsome all balled into one. Her cropped blond hair, just now barely graying at her temples, sat above a lean, kissable mouth perfectly set in a strong, almost square jaw. But it was her eyes that did me in. They were deep brown like dark chocolate pudding and they were framed by laugh lines that really did make her eyes look like they were smiling. Damn... she looked like a gorgeous angel/devil mixture.

She stood near the pole, leaned on it actually, with her hands casually poking out of the waistband of her drop dead adorable hip hugger jeans. Her tucked in plain black tee-shirt outlined her sculpted muscles built up over summer after summer of yard work. And her black combat boots? Holy shit. They sent a shiver up my back and then zap right to you know where. She knew how much her "butch" look turned me on.

"Hi baby," I said, tilting my head a little to the side like the curve in a question mark. "What's up? Um... did I do something wrong?"

She smirked at me and that's when I felt this ping in my stomach. That was weird. I mean, she never smirked. I didn't even know she knew how.

As my eyes grew wide she said, "You didn't do anything wrong." And in a menacing tone -- there was no other way to describe it -- she added, "and I expect it to stay that way."

WTF?

Slowly, because my mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls mixed with glue, I asked, "What... are... you... talking... about?" Who stole my Kerry and dropped this weirdo and her cryptic messages in her place?

"Tonight," she said, "as long as you listen to everything I say, everything I tell you to do... tonight will be something we will never forget."

I looked into her eyes and she must have seen the pleading there -- Please... please tell me what this is about. Please tell me you haven't wigged out. -- 'Cause she smiled her normal fun-loving smile, more with her eyes than her mouth. "I've been reading," she said.

My head flopped to the other side like a curious dog without a freaking clue what was going on. I had no idea what she was talking about.

"Your stories," she added.

My stories? What fucking stories? I wracked my brain. I hadn't written anything in... in FOREVER and she wouldn't know where to find that shit anyway. The only stories I've even remotely mentioned were the sexy mostly Dom/sub ones I downloaded from Amazon onto my... iPad... that I've... let... her borrow.... Oh!... My STORIES!

No fucking way. She doesn't like that shit. That's why they're MY stories!

Shit! Shit! Shit!

"Are you, um, mad that I have them? I told you I read them... I didn't think...." I stammered all over the place.

She put up a hand to stop my sputtering and slowly closed the gap between us.

"I'm not mad... but I will tell you this... I SURE didn't know you had THAT many."

I blushed and looked down.

"Yes," she continued, "I read them. Well, not all of them. But enough to know some of the rules to the... scene."

A tingle of desire mixed with fear rushed down my spine and zapped me you know where again. I kept my head down.

"Yes... eyes down baby. That's one of the rules I think I like. And here's one of my own... when we leave this basement it will be you and me like we've always been." She took a breath, as if to steel herself. "But down here, starting right now, you will listen to me. And you will do as I say." She emphasized "you will" in both cases and I bit the inside of my cheek to see if I was dreaming.

Ouch! Not dreaming!

I wanted to break out into a jig but all I did was chance a quick glance up. Only for a second and only so she could see the pure adoration in my eyes. Slowly, deliberately, I looked back down. "Yes," I said, more as a breath than a word.

Admonishing me with a low tone that tore at my soul she said, "Use my name."

My breath hitched. "Yes... Kerrin," I said with as much reverence as I could fit into two English words.

I felt more than saw her walk towards me. She placed her hands on either side of my face, still with my head slightly bowed. "You are strong willed, stubborn, and used to getting your way when you really want it."

Of course she was right and I wouldn't have said a word to contradict this even if I felt I had leave to do so.

"Not here," she continued in a whisper against my hair as her hands firmly caressed the nape of my neck. She inclined even closer to me, pushing herself against my now electric skin arcing miniature lightening bolts under my clothes.

"Do you like what you see?" She asked in a sexy, raspy voice.

I couldn't keep the trembling from my voice. "Oh God yes... yes... I like it very, very much."

She pinched my earlobe. Hard!

"What are you forgetting little one?" She rubbed my burning love with soft fingertips.

Little one? That was new. But I felt a blush burn my cheeks almost as much as the sting at my ear. "I mean, I like it very, very much... Kerrin," I corrected.

I could barely see from my eyes down position that she smirked again (WHEN did she start doing that? It's so freaking hot!) and she took my left hand in hers and pressed it to the heated crotch of her jeans. "Do you like what you feel?"

"Oh. My. God." I moaned.

My knees went weak. They knew. My knees knew instinctively where they wanted to be -- directly on the floor in front of her, worshipping her body with my hands, savoring her sweet wetness in my mouth.

"Please," I begged. "Please, Kerrin."

She pushed her pelvis into my hands. Grinding. Twisting.

"Soon," she said, her voice low and thick with desire. "First... I want you to model something for me."

She pushed away from me. "Take everything off, put on what I give you... then...," she hesitated just enough to have me hang on her words. "...wait for me."

Was I hearing right? Maybe not... my heart was thudding so loud it was possible I misunderstood. But I didn't think so.

She disappeared from my line of site for a moment and then she was back placing a bag at my feet. She kissed my hair then backed away. Then I heard faint footsteps as she headed up the stairs.

Quickly I spoke, wanting to catch her before she left, and my words came out all jumbled and hurried. "May I... Kerrin... may... do I... do I have permission to... speak?"

She hesitated, only for a second, as if pondering her answer. I heard the smile in her voice as she said, "Unless I say otherwise you can always talk during our... sessions."

The silence was barely broken by my whispered "Thank you." I know those two words could never hold the depth of everything I felt at that moment, but I knew my lover would understand.

"You're welcome." Her voice rang firm, strong, and full of love. Then she was gone.

Once I knew I was alone I fell to the floor unbelieving.

Ohmygod...ohmygod...ohmygod!

Excitement tingled through me as I hurried to do what she asked. I had no idea when she would be back and there was no freaking way she was going to find me not ready.

I grabbed the large, heavy bag and pulled out tissue paper that held a very small pair of red panties. That was my assumption anyway... that they were panties... even though there was barely enough fabric to fit inside a thimble.

I stripped out of my work pants, polo, and undergarments (that, by the way, bore not an iota of similarity to the red panties) as fast as I could without tearing everything into shreds. I pulled on the apparent panties, embarrassingly not 100% sure which was the back and which was the front.

Quickly I pulled the next item from the bag. After unwrapping it I held in my hand the most striking leather vest I had ever seen. It was shiny black, but with enough roughness that it didn't look gaudy. And it had little silver zippers and chains bordering the vest's half dozen pockets and loops. Lightly, as if not to mar its perfection I brushed my fingers over the surface... just feeling it...touching its sensual texture.

But, shit, I had to hurry!

So I made sure all of the vest's snaps were snapped and buckles buckled. I was pretty certain I wasn't going to run into a bra further down in the bag so I flipped the vest on and snapped the rest of the snaps all the way.

Next out of the bag was a shoe box. Actually it was a boot box and I smiled when I saw it. Then I laughed silently as i opened it because the box held my old motorcycle boots. I hadn't worn those things in years. Damn, I had forgotten how good they felt on my feet. I zipped them up quickly and felt a brand new love for those old worn out boots.

I reached again into the bag to make sure nothing was left; there wasn't. Then I quickly used an old rag to wipe as much dust from the boots as I could. When i finished I stood up and looked myself over.

I looked into the glass of a picture frame that held family photos seeking my reflection. My brown almost black hair was just getting to the point where I could pull it up into a pony tail, though I preferred it down, falling into my eyes. Kerry wasn't too crazy about that but I didn't have anything with me to pull it back. It was going to have to stay down like it was. My face was tanned and thin, but neither overly so. I didn't mind my face... for the most part. I wasn't that crazy about my eyes though. Actually, I hated them. I liked the hazel coloring but they were owl-big and I hated that. Kerry seemed to like them though. Whatever.

I straightened the fall of the vest and pulled a loose thread from it's seam wanting... no... NEEDING to make everything perfect.

My clothes seemed situated, but now what? Shit! I never actually DID any of this...I just freaking read about it! Do I stand? Kneel? Bend over? What? What the fuck should I do?

First of all dumb ass... calm down.

I took a deep breath. Okay. Now... think! What do you think Kerry... um... Kerrin... would like? If I knelt down that would be taking the decision out of her hands. So that's the answer right there -- stand.

Right?

Shit. I didn't fucking know, but it seemed like the best idea so I arranged myself facing the sisal pole and facing away from the stairs.

I stood as if in a military Parade Rest position. My back was straight, my knees only slightly bent, feet shoulder-width apart. My arms went behind my back, one hand clasped inside the other. I held my head up but unlike the military position, I kept my eyes lowered.

My body calmed but my mind began racing trying to figure out what, suddenly, was going on. Not that I was complaining! Shit, far from it! But why today? What happened all of a sudden? We've been together for so many years and although I've hinted here and there about this kind of stuff Kerry never really paid attention.

At least I didn't THINK she paid attention.

I wondered which stories she liked the most.

Damn she looked hot!

Obviously my brain was all over the place. My heart began to race again and my breathing got heavier. I had to reign myself back in. Suddenly I desperately hoped I wasn't getting all excited only to be...well... disappointed. This was so hot! So much what I've wanted. What I wanted for years!

I knew I was thinking too much and that was not what I needed to be doing. I needed to block everything from my head and focus on doing everything for her... the way she wanted it. Breath in. Breath out. Breath in...

The basement door opened.

...Breath out.

More like hyperventilate out.

I stood perfectly still, radiating my desire to please her. I didn't even move when I heard her murmur "damn" under her breath.

"You look great like that Michelle." Her voice sounded heated, constricted.

I heard her approach me from behind. Be still I told myself. Keep your eyes down and for God's sake, stop shaking! I wasn't sure if she could see my shivers but I assumed so. I felt like a vibrating tuning fork.

Her hands went to my arms. "Turn around."

Slowly and with grace, I hoped, I turned towards her. My downcast eyes went immediately to her belt. I wondered if it was a new one. There was some kind of sheath or small strap on the right side that almost dropped me to my knees. A black leather handle poked up past the belt itself and wrapped within it were lots of thin leather straps. I wasn't one hundred percent sure of the terminology but I was pretty sure it was a flogger. In my house. On my lover's belt. That familiar zap went through me again.

Kerry pulled the flogger up, ever so slowly, moving it from its sheath up the front of my new vest, over my shoulder, and slowly down my thrilled back. Suddenly she grabbed the other side with all of the straps, now holding it from both ends, and trapped me between it and her body. She backed up, pulling me with her. Every breath I took hitched. Every touch on my skin tingled with excitement. She backed herself up to the leather recliner purchased so many years ago and only recently relegated to the basement.

Still she held the straps firmly at my back and upper arms. "Unzip me." She took my lips, my mouth into hers.

My groan said "Oh please, yes," when my mouth could not.

Quickly, in case she changed her mind, I unhooked my hands which I still held together behind my back and set them to work on the beautiful buckle dressing the new soft belt. Warmth spread between my legs as I wondered if I would feel that belt somewhere on my body.

Warmth and a little bit of fear.

As the buckle clinked to the side I started at the button of her fly, all the while still consumed by her mouth on mine. She ravaged my mouth and I had a hard time concentrating. Finally, I popped the button and after a long slow unzip I started working the waist of her jeans part way down so I could get to the good stuff.

"Owwwwww!" She bit my lower lip, hard, and I yelped into her mouth. What the FUCK?

She pulled back so she could look at me. "I said unzip me. Did I say to do anything else?"

My lip throbbed but that was nothing compared to the rising heat of my embarrassment. How could I have made such a stupid mistake? Seriously, wasn't I the one who read all of those damn stories? She's teaching ME? I turned an even deeper shade of red.

"I'm sorry Kerrin. You didn't say I could do anything else."

"You need to listen to what I say, not what you think you hear or what you want to hear. I know you're as new at doing this as I am but... I also know you know better than that."

Mortified, I hung my head and tried to shrink into nothingness. She released me and immediately I became scared, terrified, that she was going to stop... stop everything... not allow me to make amends.

"Kerrin, please. I am so sorry... I do know better... you're right... please... let me...." My voice slowly trailed off into nothing. I waited... waited for her... not to leave, a lump growing thick in my throat.

I heard her laugh softly and then I watched discretely as she pushed her own jeans the rest of the way down pulling her underwear along with them. She sat in front of me, at the edge of the recliner.

"You're sorry?" She asked. In a voice so husky I couldn't be sure it was her own she said, "Show me how sorry."

I dropped from her lap to the floor like a stone looking up into her eyes then quickly away. Shit! Shit! Shit! Don't fuck up again! But she let that slide as I bent to her, her hands firmly holding my head, pressing me down.

I groaned into her as I leaned in and used my face, my lips, and my tongue to open her up and taste the flood pouring out of her. I fed like her liquid was the only sustenance on earth, hysterically relieved she was as turned on by the scene as I was.

Nothing escaped my lapping tongue. I nipped at her like a puppy nipping a finger. She jumped and moaned and settled back down, pulling my hair while somehow at the same time pushing me further into herself.

I pressed my lips hard onto her nub and moved my whole body up and down, rocking her on my mouth. I moved my hands from her knees and slid my hands up her thighs lightly using my nails as I went. She didn't stop their progress so I dared to keep them moving closer to her center.

My face felt lacquered with her juices as I pulled back just enough to slide a finger around and around, slowly moving in, like a whirlpool. I eased a finger inside of her and quickly another before she finished a moan from the first inward slide. Continuing to rock her, I closed my mouth back on her, engulfing her inside and out. Twisting my fingers into a hook I pulled at her from the inside like I was trying to literally pull the climax out of her.