“Oh, shit, not again!”
Angela jumped up from the bed, leaning hard on her cramping leg. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’ll be gone in a minute.”
“You need to figure out what to do about those,” Brian said, not unkindly. “They seem to be increasing.”
“I know,” she responded. “I think I have an idea. I Googled it and found a solution I’m going to try. There, better now,” she added as she returned to the warmth of the bed.
She snuggled into his strong body, her hand softly caressing his chest, teasingly pinching his nipples and then descending to his cock. He groaned softly as her hand encircled it, beginning the stroking and soft squeezing that never failed to pleasure him. As he shifted restlessly on the bed, she rose to her knees and, straddling him, began to kiss his body. She made her way over his strong chest, along the downy hair of his stomach’s center line to his shaft. Shifting to face his feet, she lightly licked the tip of his cock with her tongue, moving it up and down his cock, then taking him into her mouth. Grabbing the pillow, he propped up his head and admired the vision of her perfect ass as the pleasurable sensations flowed through his body. That further inflamed him so he slapped her ass hard and repeatedly. She moaned in response and swayed it, in further invitation. Tightening her lips, she took him in deeper and deeper, her hands stroking and kneading his balls.
Admiring her rounded, reddened ass, he put another pillow under his head and pulled her back to him, pressing her legs further apart to expose her pussy. The first stroke of his tongue almost unhinged her, bringing a soft muffled scream from her busy mouth. He licked her softly, then harder and harder, and her hips gyrated in response. As her juices flowed, he inserted one finger, two, then three, into her. Throwing her head back, she cried out in pleasure, so distracted as to pause in her rhythm. “Uh, unh!” he said, slapping her ass again, and she resumed her work with enthusiasm. Four fingers entered her, and she groaned in ecstasy as his knuckles pressed on her entrance. He began to pump into her, slowly at first and then with increasing pressure.
Frantic for release, she focused all her attention and effort on her rhythm until, unable to contain herself anymore, she released him to scream, “Please, Sir! Please, may I come?”
“Yes, come for me, slut,” he fondly answered, and her body bucked in the spasms of her orgasm. Her juices flowed down his arm like a waterfall until, sated, she collapsed on his groin.
“Turn around and continue, girl,” he ordered.
Facing him, she complied, going down on him again with renewed enthusiasm. Her tousled hair tickled his groin and thighs as he watched her work. Occasionally, she looked up at him, her hazel eyes both lustful and teasing, and she moaned softly with the rhythm of her strokes. She gasped as he suddenly grabbed her hair, pulling her mouth up off his shaft. Understanding perfectly, she quickly slid his cock into her. She leaned back on her arms, lifting her head and closing her eyes, and slowly began to pump on him. She sat up on her knees and circled her hips, stroking her body and cupping her breasts as he watched her.
Returning to the exquisite rise and fall on his shaft and inexorably increasing the pace, she came to ride him like a Brahma bull, head back, lips smiling, breath panting and crying out in full, passionate voice. He rested his hands on her sensually moving hips, his hips moving in response and both of them now glistening with a sheen of sweat. Her cries were matched by his grunts in a rising chorus until he grabbed her by the arms. She gasped as he suddenly flipped her over and straddled her.
For a long moment, he just looked at her as she submissively, nonverbally, begged him to take her. Then, take her he did, thrusting and pounding into her, pinioning her over and over until she came again and he exploded within her, collapsing onto her breasts.
They lay there quietly, catching their breath, until he heard a soft murmur begin from her. Enfolding her in his arms, he smiled, knowing what was coming. Her murmur turned into chuckles and then into peals of joyful, satisfied laughter. She giggled and laughed as the endorphins washed through her brain, and he held her, grinning in amused satisfaction and love. What a good little slut she was.
Angela snuggled further, if that was even possible, into Brian’s arms and sighed contentedly. Her mind wandered over the years they had been together as she drifted off to sleep, until one thought brought her abruptly back to the recent past. It was not always so good. She bent her head with a combination of shame and regret as she recalled her betrayal.
Damian had appeared, young and enthusiastic, already well trained as a submissive and very eager to join their BDSM house. He was also sexy and seductive, even within his perfect submissiveness. It wasn’t long before his flirtation with Angela began and the attraction between them grew. She didn’t initiate it, nor did she fight it very hard. Perhaps the natural wear of thirteen years of marriage had made her a little curious about the lure of a new romance. Brian had a fit, of course, when he found out. While affairs were something he could accept and understand, in their polyamorous relationship, he had never intended for a romantic triad that involved his wife and a submissive. Damian was out, although he departed reluctantly. They had gone through a very rough time before coming back together and had been monogamous since.
“Never again,” thought Angela, drifting off to sleep. “Risk this? I don’t think so.”
That long-ago party had been okay, not boring and not exciting, until Brian walked in. Angela felt a thrill the moment she set her eyes on him and she stared at him, just willing him to look over. When he did, she held his look in a steady gaze. Just enough to say, ‘Look at you, you’re interesting. I’d like to know you better,’ but not enough to come across as too bold. Even then, she wanted to be just right for Brian, even though she didn’t know the first thing about him. Presto, it worked. He strolled over.
“Hello, can I get you a drink?” asked Brian, smiling directly into her eyes. “I’m Brian. I’m not a waiter, but I could act like one for you.”
“Nice opening line,” Angela said with a laugh. “Yes, a glass of Pinot Grigio would be lovely, thank you.” She watched him walk away appreciatively. My, my, my, she thought. What a perfect ass you have, Mr. Wolf. And the rest of you isn’t so bad, either. But it’s the eyes, oh lordy, the eyes, that could lay a lady to waste. I’d best be watching my P’s and Q’s with this one.
It was a little unnerving, in fact, that immediate attraction. She couldn’t really define what it was about him that came out in his magnetism, but she instinctively felt secure with him and, surprisingly, a little submissive. Given her accomplished and responsible career, this was a new feeling for her that she, at first, dismissed as a ‘new love’ artifact. But it lasted, and she found she liked it.
Their first coupling was everything she hoped—and much more. He was strong, virile, sexy beyond belief, and possessed a gentle, natural dominance that she immediately responded to. She felt so alive in his arms, so physical and primal, and at the same time, so—circumscribed. It was as if he released an animal within her that, then, was more than happy to be tamed. She was hooked from the beginning, and every time they got together, Brian, her drug of choice, delivered another dose. It didn’t help that they lived two hundred miles apart, Angela, in the booming southern city of Atlanta, Georgia, and Brian, in the smaller and even more southern city of Asheville, North Carolina. Every time she knew another visit was pending, she was walking into doors, so absorbed was she in thinking about him. It was so obvious, her coworkers began to tease her about her commensurate lack of coordination. Given that she was the ultimate professional, in the upper management of a worldwide health organization, her situation was met with some amusement by her staff and peers. But they also loved her, so their happiness that she had found a love was matched by the caution of ‘he’d better be good enough’.
For Brian, the situation was almost as bad. He was a professional mediator, and a good one, for a nonprofit community organization. He took the difficult cases and usually managed, with a combination of real empathy and firmness, to bring the parties together to a mutual consensus. Like any good counselor, he had been trained to focus solely on his clients during a session. But then, there would be that moment when a ray of sun would bathe the plant in his office, and he would be momentarily transported to the way Angela’s hair gleamed in the morning sun, spread in a dark chestnut wave across the pure white of his pillow, her eyes smoky with desire for him. He would almost have to shake himself physically to bring himself back into the moment. The woman was a witch, he thought wryly, at such times—she had just bewitched him.
Their time together was intense and quick, no matter how long it actually lasted, and Angela had to resist a drop into a light depression after he left.
From the beginning, Brian was the powerful aphrodisiac to whom she was drawn, as the tides by the moon. She fell into deep, deep limerance. It was for him, she weighed herself daily, wanting to be pretty to him, she erotically fantasized herself as subjugated. He populated her dreams, occupied her waking thoughts. After their initial extended emails, they met in a restaurant for a last checkout of each other…and then went directly to one of the better hotels in town. Angela had brought a basket of sustenance for what she hoped would be a long, hot night – wine, cheese and crackers, strawberries with dipping chocolate and chocolate morsels, and an energy drink for stamina.
He had told her to wear her best lingerie and, since she couldn’t decide, she had brought four different outfits, complemented by black stockings and a sexy pair of heels she’d bought just for this occasion. He had settled into a chair, charmed that she’d provide a fashion show. It began with innocence, white lace panties with an eyelet-trimmed cotton teddy, and ended with hot – a black under-bust corset that pushed her breasts even further up, a black and pink lace bra and black lace panties. When she emerged in that, a moan escaped his lips.
“I had a feeling this one would be your favorite.” She smiled.
“Come here,” he said, and she obediently trotted over, as sexily as she could. As she approached, his eyes devoured her petite, 5’4″ frame and deliciously rounded curves. She strutted, tossing her chestnut hair off her bare shoulders, hazel eyes teasingly smiling at his. His gaze lingered on her rounded breasts and she shivered, head back and eyes closed, when he caressed them.
“Turn around,” he softly commanded, and she complied, then walked back and forth at his request. On her return, he rose and looked searchingly into her eyes. As her color mounted, he gently reached behind her and unfastened her bra, slipping it off her shoulders. With a soft intake of breath, he took in her figure’s ample curves, the soft roundness of her full breasts spilling over the top of her corset, the blush on her cheeks. The effect was lovely and arousing, and his appreciation showed on his face.
“I think you’re a little overdressed,” she shyly suggested.
“Well, why don’t you take care of that?” he rejoined, and she went to work. Unbuttoning and sliding off his shirt, she found beautiful, firm pectoral muscles rippling under his skin. She looked up into his blue eyes and softly traced the outline of his face with her fingertips, which then slipped through his sandy hair as her lips sought out his. Running her hands over his strong, long arms, she kissed his collar bone and bent to kiss his breasts, licking his nipples. Her fingers unsnapped his jeans and, kneeling, she slid them down for him to step out. She stood, so on fire with desire that she wasn’t even nervous, and they took each other in, in this relative state of undress.
He began to kiss her, slowly, sensually, caressing her body, then unsnapped the myriad small corset hooks, to let it fall to the floor. She sucked in her breath as he kissed her on the neck, and again, as he squeezed her ass and pulled her to him.
It wasn’t long before they were naked and in bed. His slow kisses intensified, occasionally erupting to savage her lips. Angela was carried along, heady with longing and passion, meeting his heat with her own in full measure.
“Stand up on the bed by the headboard,” he ordered. She complied, and suddenly her arms were pinned up to the wall, her lips bruised with hard kisses. When she dropped her arms to reach for him, he pushed them back up. The next time she did that, he repeated it, this time with a look that was a wordless command for her to leave them there. Feeling weak kneed, Angela obeyed. Thus freed, his hands traveled over her curves and his kisses went from nibbles on her neck and ears to her breasts. For the first time, she had her nipples twisted and pulled, and she responded with a gasp as the sensation connected directly to her clit. She felt feverish; her mind was clouded; all the observing and reasoning it would normally be doing was shot in a haze of pure passion.
His hands moved down her body to her cleft, his fingers teasing it to her responding moans. Sinking to his knees, he pushed her legs apart. Kneeling, he slowly, agonizingly, began to lick her soft center, and Angela’s breathing accelerated to a pant. He stood, pressing her back against the wall, and she softly whimpered. She gasped as his knee suddenly jammed up between her legs and, as he twisted and pressed it against her, her moans escalated in volume, culminating in a keening cry as she shuddered to a climax and sank to the bed with him.
And so the night went, with them pausing occasionally to catch their breath, snack and drink the energy drink. Finally, that was long gone, but the wine pleasantly chilled their tongues, and the chocolate morsels invited yet more deep, lingering, probing kisses. The latter rekindled the flame and they were at it again until the stars began to fade, when, exhausted, they drifted off. A few hours of sleep and their passion continued unabated until it was time to check out.
“I’d like to see you again and often,” he said as they waited for the elevator.
“And I, you,” she replied, feeling a thrill.
That night was followed by days of emailing, sexting and texting. They missed each other, and so, he soon was back again. Angela was thrilled for days before he arrived, unable to think, distracted by thoughts of him. She wanted to serve him, service him, be abased by him if that is what he wanted to do. Everything was on the table and nothing was withheld. Their meetings were filled with passion; they rarely did anything else but have sex.
Their relationship grew and, as it did, her sexual fantasies often involved being tied to the bed posts. Brian hinted at his other life and began to tell her about his BDSM play, and she listened with interest. Finally, the day came when Angela traveled to visit him. She was curious to see what his place was like, how it would reflect his life, and about what he referred to as his ‘toys.’
She arrived at his doorstep, a little nervous, until the door opened to his welcoming smile. She found light-filled rooms graced by tall windows, his own fine framed photographs on the wall, and comfortable modern furniture.
And toys, lots and lots of toys. Over time, he slowly and carefully showed them to her, sharply monitoring her response—floggers, canes, soft sensation play toys, clamps. She approached them all warily.
Until now, the only impact in their play had been a few slaps on her fanny during sex, all of which she enjoyed. She found herself fantasizing about having a full-on spanking scene. And so, one day, in a low, husky voice, edged with some fear, she asked for one. To her shock, within seconds, she was over his knee, having the spanking of her life – and she loved it. It was a strange combination of recoiling from the pain and reveling in it. It was finding a feeling of complete vulnerability and surrendering to it and finding in that an erotic element. She had asked him to deliver pain upon her body, without any idea of why she would even do such a counterintuitive thing. All she knew was she wanted it. And what she found, as he whaled away upon her and she cried out in response, was that she felt as alive as she had not felt in years. Totally present in the moment, no other thoughts crowded her normally noisy brain. The feeling and the brain silence were a blessing.
But more than that, it was the surrender that captivated her. To this point, it had all been about sex; from this point on, dominance became a factor. She was hooked, and when bruises appeared on her ass, she was doubly hooked. For days, she couldn’t stop looking at them. They were a physical reminder of that feeling of simply being, of him, and of how she could drown herself in submission to him. It wasn’t just profoundly exciting; it was also a little transcendental. It was like a gateway to another level of being for her, waking her up to living more consciously, the better to please him, or of submerging herself into his consciousness. And giving that freely, happily.
Over time, his gentle introduction of BDSM to her grew into a Dominant/submissive relationship. Angela spent a lot of time thinking about her feelings of submission to Brian. She surrendered to him as a conscious choice that was reaffirmed every day, even as it became as natural as breathing. On the occasions that she actually knelt before him, she felt a relaxation into a depth of feeling she had never before experienced. She delivered herself into his hands, body and heart and will. She gave him all that because he was worthy of it, even if it was an occasional struggle, given her independent nature and each of their own shortcomings. She concluded that for some, like her, this pull to submission was irresistible, a magnetic attraction that likely was always present, but never recognized. Brian epitomized that for her.
That said, their D/s relationship was a true, equal partnership with agreed upon roles. Brian was the manager who made the final decisions, but he did so in consultation with Angela, whose opinions he respected and carefully considered. She could, and often did, change his mind. She was the essential support staff.
Pleasing Brian pleased her; it was a self-supporting habit. She found her life to be so much richer than it had been before. She felt complete and rewarded in both her career and her love life, and she counted herself as blessed. And as they progressed deeper and deeper in the D/s lifestyle, their play intensified as well.
Eventually, they married, buying and setting up house in an up-and-coming Atlanta neighborhood, populated by young professionals like them. Life was good. Angela found that she was happy to relinquish her heavy work day responsibilities at home, to focus all her attention on Brian. She adored him – most of the time – and their relationship became, to all outward signs, a perfectly normal one between two attractive people in love. What was not apparent to others was the delight each took in the spanking, flogging, and other forms of BDSM play they shared with each other. And what was not apparent to Brian and Angela was the danger they, therefore, were courting, unawares.