"Come here, my pet," she purrs. On hands and knees, I make my way across the hardwood floor of our little apartment. I love when she calls me 'pet.' Nothing makes me wetter, faster.
Tonight, Alana -- or at the present moment, Mistress Alana -- is pulling out all the stops. She sits on the big, black leather chair we refer to as 'the throne' in over-the-knee leather boots which give way to open fishnets and a pleated skirt that doesn't leave anything to the imagination, above which her corset, red with black lace, slopes generously from hip to waist to bust. She's holding my favorite flogger over her strong shoulder, flicking it back and forth in her hand. And the look she's giving me is making me melt, her blue eyes dark and sultry under heavy lashes.
This is exactly what I want and exactly what I've come to crave in our year-plus together. The truth is I've been hooked ever since she first tied me and in love since that balmy early December day at the tree farm: our first kiss, our first fuck. I still marvel at it all. How could a year pass so quickly?
Thoughts give way as I reach her. This is the best part, the sinking into subspace, where thinking ends and instinct takes over. I kneel before her. In yoga, they call this the puppy pose, my arms stretched out along the floor in front of me, my knees under me, and my ass high in the air. Over the past year, I've learned what she likes too.
"Permission to touch you, Mistress?" I ask, my voice low and deferential.
"You may start here," she states, extending her leather wrapped foot towards me.
I slide one hand around her heel and lean in, kissing the shining silver toe of the high-heeled black boot. I've also developed new tastes in the year we've been together, particularly a penchant for the smell of real leather and musky hemp. Earthy and natural, both have me panty-soaked in a moment.
I slide my hands up her strong leather-clad calve as I kiss her toes, her foot, her ankle. I slide forward until I'm perched between her legs, looking up through my lashes at her magnificent face, all strong jaw, sharp cheekbone, and piercing blue eyes. She smiles down on me as she slides down the seat, slipping her legs around me and her warm pussy towards me. I breathe in her intoxicating scent making my eyes roll back and my jaw go slack.
"Now, tell me what it is you want, my pet." Her voice is soft and languid. She knows the answer; she just likes to hear me beg for it, pant for it. I happily oblige.
"I want to taste you. I want to serve you. Please." I feel the sharp bloom of pain before I even realize my mistake as she cracks the flogger over my bare ass, leaving glorious tingling red welts. The sting is divine.
"Please, Mistress!" I correct. "Please, Mistress, let me taste you. I need you on my tongue." And I do, desperately.
She slides down a little farther. "That's better, my pet. Don't make me correct you again." We both know I will; I enjoy it too much. She drops her hands between her legs, parting her nether lips for me. That's the only instruction I'll get, and it's all I need. I immediately dip my lips to her damp skin, peppering kisses across her labia, lingering over her dewy clit. It's the most beautiful thing in the world as I take her in my mouth, my tongue making little strokes up and down over her pussy, tasting her delicious wetness.
She parts her lips a little further, encouraging me to run my tongue from entry to clit and back again. And again and again and again. I feel her breath quickening as her pussy gets wetter and wetter. I want it all, lapping up her liquids with undignified zeal. I gently suck her clit as I first enter her, first one finger, then two, then three. I know it won't take her long; she's taught me exactly what she likes.
The stroke of my fingers is slow, deliberate, the tips gently curling up to caress her g-spot as I circle her clit with my tongue, sucking harder, drawing it between my lips. She starts to moan, and it's only moments before I feel her body tense, liquid pouring over my chin as she tightens around my needy fingers.
I'm drinking her in and licking my lips and chin. She throws down her flogger and shoves me back, flat on my back on the floor. She covers me with her long body and takes my mouth with hers. I know she's enjoying the taste on my lips as much as I am. With her tongue playing hungrily over mine, her long, delicate, strong fingers enter me.
I'm soaking wet and she's wasting no time, taking me hard and fast, exactly what I need. She breaks from my lips only to take my nipple between hers, and I am undone. My orgasm is powerful and swift; my body is shaking before I can utter a sound.
She slides to my side, draping her leg over mine and lifts her fingers to her mouth, licking them gently before dipping them fully into her mouth and sliding them out between her closed lips seductively, moaning her delight.
"God, you're delicious," she utters in her silky cadence, before beginning to shimmy down my body. "How about another, my pet?" she asks. I ask myself how I got so lucky before she starts kissing down my belly and thoughts are no longer possible.
***
My hand slips into hers as we open the front door. It's a bright, balmy spring day, and I am impossibly happy. A year ago, I'd never even considered being with a woman, but with Alana now, it feels like nothing could rupture my joy. I know my parents would not approve, but our families are thousands of miles away, and we are blissfully alone today. Her blues eyes sparkle as she smiles at me, and I can't help but beam in return, causing us both to laugh in joy at our profound happiness. As the door slams behind us, our laughter stops dead along with my post-orgasmic mirth.
"Surprise!" My mother, father, sister, and grandmother are crossing the courtyard toward us, and I am frozen to the spot, terror ripping through me. I immediately drop Alana's hand as they walk toward us.
My mind is blank; all I can string together is, "What are y'all doing here?!"
My mother answers, "We just wanted to see you, and since it was your sister's spring break, we just decided to fly out and surprise you! We were just about to ring you, and out you pop! Lucky timing, huh?"
"Yeah...lucky," I say. I look over at Alana, who gives me a shrug and a tight smile.
"You look stunned, Soph," my sister says.
"Brigid, I couldn't be more surprised if I'd gotten a shovel to the face walking out that door."
My mother tsks and adds, "Sophie, you look so pale. Are you sick?"
"No, just...in shock, I guess." I force a smile, feeling Alana fidgeting next to me, her boots shuffling along the courtyard pavers.
"Are you going to introduce us, Sophie?" My mom asks. "Is this your roommate you speak so highly of?"
Alana, my girlfriend of over a year now -- the woman I love -- is standing next to me, arms crossed across her chest, eyes down at her feet. I've never seen her look so self-conscious before. Can I say the words to my family? Is now the moment? In the end, all I can get out is, "Yes. Alana, this is my family. Family, Alana." She meets their gaze and waves, a smile drawn over her lips that doesn't come near her eyes. To diffuse the awkwardness, I add simply, "We're going to get some dinner down the street. Care to join us?"
The next hours are tense while I continue to process the situation. We eat and chat away, but I can't bring myself to tell them who Alana really is to me, and worse, I can't bring myself to close the small space between the two of us. Finally, when I just can't take anymore, I excuse myself to the restroom. I stand in the small hall with my back against the wall and my hands over my face.
