Authors: Sloan Johnson
A cloud of tension fills
the bedroom as she refuses to say what is on her mind. Yet another trait I want to break her of.
“Why were you there last night?” Her voice
is so quiet I can barely hear her words. “A couple of times, you made it sound like the most despicable thing you’d ever seen, so why go?”
It’s not what I expected her to say. In a way, it’s worse. I would rather listen to her tell me how I shouldn’t buy her things or offer to take her somewhere than have to get into this.
Given her reaction to simple things like my possessiveness and protective nature, I know it is going to be a long, drawn out conversation. One we don’t have time for and one I’m not prepared to get into with her until she gets to know me as a person. By then, I hope like hell she can see that the world of Dominance and submission isn’t something to be afraid of and that it isn’t something perverse.
“There’s not
an easy answer to that,” I sigh, trying to think of what I can say to satisfy her curiosity and bring her back to a place where she feels safe and secure. More than anything, I want to see her smile again. The real smile that lights up her entire face.
“You seem to say that a lot.” The tone in her voice
is wary but the gleam in her eyes is curious.
I stand, reaching down to pull her up
so her body is close to mine. The only barrier keeping her soft skin from touching mine is a twelve-year-old t-shirt. The heat pooling between our bodies has me trying to think unpleasant thoughts so maybe she won’t feel how much I want to throw her back down and have my way with her.
Carefully, I
tighten my arms around her lower back causing her to arch away from me. The sight of her looking up at me with those eyes filled with unanswered questions causes part of my brain to tell me to cut her loose, run away, and never look back. No way will she understand and accept my world. I’m not sure I want her to because although it is who I am, my own introduction was a way for me to escape the pain of my past. A way to satisfy my urges without emotions clouding my path. “I promise, I will explain it all to you very soon. But for now, let’s just say what you saw last night is a feeble attempt to give people who think they’re into that lifestyle an outlet. It’s a marketing ploy, nothing more. And I have very little respect for most of the people who go there because they don’t have any respect for some of the simplest principles of what they’re trying to do.”
Not the answer I
was going for, but then again, being eloquent or cautious with my words is not how I do things. As much as I want to be articulate for Tasha’s sake, I fail.
“Does t
hat mean you…” her voice trails off, unable to finish the question I don’t want to answer any more than she wants to ask. For the first time in my life, I feel something less than proud of who and what I am. I’m not sure it goes to the point of shame, but it’s not something I am comfortable with when it comes to her.
“Short answer, yes.” No point dancing around trying to find a way to ease her mind at this point. “But you have to know that what I said last night is a rule that I live by. I will
never
force you to do anything you don’t want to do. On the flip side, you have to trust me enough to tell me if I’m pushing you too far.”
When Tasha
shakes her head, I hold my breath, waiting for her to storm out of the room telling me she never wants to see me again. Instead, she wraps her arms around my neck, standing on her toes so she can kiss my cheek. It would be so easy for me to turn my head to the side and get a taste of her. It’s been too long since I’ve kissed a woman on the lips. Kissing is something intimate, and intimacy is something I don’t do.
“I do trust you. Don’t ask me why because I’m not sure, but I trust you. But you really have to stop making it sound like we’re a couple. We’re not. And the way you throw around the ‘friends’ word, I have no idea if you even want something more. Heck, we shouldn’t even be having this conversation since we’ve
only known each other a little over twelve hours.”
I
throw my head back, unable to stop the laughter. “If you don’t know whether or not I want more with the way your hips are grinding against me right now, I’m not sure what to say. But you’re right; we don’t need to have this discussion right now. You need to shower and I need to go make lunch.”
I press my lips
to her forehead and then smack her on the ass as she turns toward the master bathroom. For all the shit I put up with for a long time, it seems like things might finally be turning around.
(Tasha)
As I adjust
the temperature of the water and strip out of Dylan’s t-shirt, I decide it is time to relax. For most of my life, I have felt like I’m waiting for something to happen, waiting for someone to tell me what I am “supposed” to do. Now, Dylan is paying the price for me needing to break that cycle. I meant it when I said I trusted him not to force me to do something I’m not comfortable with. And he agrees that we have a ways to go before it is even an issue. If I can force myself not to be on edge all the time, Dylan might be just what I need to start doing the things I want to do. But if I keep being a bitch to him, telling him to stop trying to be kind to me, eventually he will listen and I will be sitting home alone once again.
If I’m going to start living again, I can’t allow myself to
constantly think about the past. Thinking about my wake-up call this morning is much more pleasant. The way Dylan’s jeans land on just right his hips and how I want to give them a quick tug to see if they will come off. If they do, will he be wearing anything underneath or will I be rewarded with my first look at his impressive length? Twice now, I have felt how I affect him but I have yet to actually
see
what I do to him.
More than that, I want to
feel
what I do to him. I want to reach into his jeans and wrap my hand around him, slowing stroking from root to tip. I need to feel the contrast of the soft skin covering his hard as steel erection, and eventually the wetness as he leaks the first drops of his arousal.
My hand glides over my breasts, massaging and tweaking my nipples into hard points. In my mind, it’s Dylan’s strong hands causing my body to heat and harden. The stream
of water coming from the shower head slicks my body, allowing my hand to slide deeper, my fingers disappearing between my folds as I rub myself, thinking of what it would feel like if Dylan’s thick, strong fingers replaced my own. I increase the pressure, needing to feel the release my body has needed since soon after I first laid eyes on him. When I finally come, I bite my bottom lip hard, praying he’s not standing on the other side of the door as I moan his name.
I lean against the wall of the shower while I try to steady my breathing. What is it about Dylan that has me thinking about and doing things I’ve never done before?
The last time I had sex was nearly a year ago, and it’s been even longer since I had an orgasm. If thinking about Dylan makes me come this powerfully, I can only imagine what it will be like if we’re ever together.
Football is life around Madison in the fall and tickets are nearly impossible to get. No way would any of the girls go to a game with me and Nick always said it was pointless to go to the game when you could watch it at home for free.
I really wish there was a way to block that entire time of my life from memory. Maybe a hypnotist could wipe the slate clean.
Okay, so I don’t really want that. I need to remember my pain and unhappiness in order to keep myself from falling for another man who will treat me like dirt.
I
look in the mirror after I am dressed, impressed with the outfit Dylan picked out. Somehow, he found a pair of jeans that fits my body like a glove, almost as if it were custom-made for me. How he managed that without me being there is a mystery. Having long legs and a long torso makes it difficult to find anything that fits without creeping down to show the top of my butt. The cardinal red t-shirt has the Wisconsin W in silver rhinestones, making it a bit dressier than the typical tee. But my favorite part of the outfit is the boots. They are trendy lace-up boots that come just past my ankle. And I’m not surprised to see they have no heel. After last night, I’m pretty sure Dylan would prefer I never slide my foot into anything other than flats from now on.
The thought of Dylan having any pr
eference on what I wear concerns me a bit. I keep reminding myself that it’s not up to him. It’s my body and my life and I’ll wear whatever I want. The fact that I have to remind myself that no man can tell me what to do worries me even more. If I am being rational, Dylan doesn’t strike me as the type of man to make unreasonable demands. He didn’t mention my boots until it was obvious I was in pain. He offered me the shirt off his back so I wouldn’t feel exposed in a room full of strangers. But that doesn’t change the fact that I am just getting to the point where I feel like I’m in control of my life for once and don’t want anyone messing with that.
(Dylan)
I shouldn’t have walked back into the bedroom after Tasha got up to take her shower. I should have averted my eyes when I saw her naked body reflected in the mirror. I could have pulled the door closed so I wouldn’t see anything else, but I didn’t. Instead, I’m leaning against the dresser, watching
as she fondles herself. I would give anything for an invitation to join her so I can replace her hands with my mouth.
I can only imagine how sweet her skin will taste when I finally cover her dark pink nipples with my lips. I want to feel her back arch as she presses those beautiful tits deeper into my mouth.
As her hand slides down her flat stomach, past her belly button, I force myself to turn away. I need to earn her trust. If I sit here watching her masturbate without her knowledge, that makes me no better than the perverts I protected her from last night.
While I wait
for Tasha to get ready, I take a few minutes to check in on things at the shop. Owning a tattoo parlor had never been on my radar, but that changed when my cousin passed away suddenly and willed the shop to me. Luckily, the business has become a fixture in Madison over the years and it isn’t difficult to stay in the black. That doesn’t mean it is headache-free.
I need
to find someone to manage the day-to-day operations because there are some discrepancies showing up that concern me but I have no time to babysit when my promotions company is finally getting off the ground. I spend at least three days every week out of town scouting new talent to bring to Madison. In five years, our company has gone from a relative unknown to a well-respected promotions agency that can get a band booked at just about any size hall in southern Wisconsin.
As much as I try to focus on business, my mind keeps drifting to the bedroom. To Tasha. I need to do something to ease the pressure building in my pants, but I refuse to give into the temptation when
I know it would be Tasha’s wet, naked body in my mind as I jack off.
“Tasha, are
you just about ready?” I yell down the hall when I see it is already after noon. The game starts at three and there is no sense in driving when we will have to park just about as far away as I live but in the opposite direction. If she doesn’t hurry, we won’t have time to go get her purse, come back to my place and then walk down State Street and over to the stadium.
When she finally emerges from the bedroom, she looks like she belongs
in the student section. I realize how little I know about the woman I shared my bed with last night. For all I know, she
could
be a co-ed. “How do I look?” She asks twirling around with her arms extended.
She looks
fucking amazing. Her red shirt hugs every subtle curve of her body and the jeans are tight without looking spray painted onto her body. The dramatic makeup from last night is gone, leaving her face looking like smooth porcelain. It’s a shame that she feels the need to embellish her features in any way.
“Damn, I’m not sure if I should take you to the ga
me looking like that,” I groan, feeling my cock twitch against my jeans. This angel in red is going to be the cause of the world’s worst case of blue balls and she doesn’t even realize it. “Come here,” I add in a stern voice.
The way she cocks her hip as she folds
her arms across her chest in defiance is sexy as hell. It elongates her legs and her arms cross so tight it pushes her perfects tits up and close together.
“And if I don’t?” She smirks
and I know she is testing me. Perhaps my precious Tasha isn’t quite as innocent as she seems.
I stalk
my way over to her, crossing the room in five long steps. “Are you playing with me, Precious?” I ask, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “Because you should know, I don’t take kindly to being toyed with.”
She sucks
in a deep breath and I know I am getting to her. No matter what she says, she feels the chemistry like I do. My fingers gently trail down her silky skin from her shoulders to her wrists. Pushing her just a bit, I wrap my hands tightly around her wrists and pull them behind my back. There’s no space between our chests and I know she can feel how badly I want her. “Still think I just want to be your buddy?”
Tasha
shakes her head, looking up at me briefly before turning her gaze to the marble tile floor. I squeeze her wrists tighter, wanting her to understand I’m not joking around with her. “Look at me when I ask you a question,” I demand. It’s a risky move but I warned her I was going to push her. Every minute I wait is delaying the inevitable between us. When I feel her shaking against my body, I immediately release her and step away. “Tasha, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers
, refusing to look at me.
She
is terrified, of what I can’t be sure. Tentatively, I reach out and cup her cheek. “You need to tell me what’s going on. I don’t ever want you to be afraid of me.”
She
shakes her head again, pursing her lips. “It’s nothing.” Stepping away from me, Tasha walks to the windows and stares into the distance. She rubs her wrists as if she’s in pain. While I wasn’t light with my touch, I know I didn’t grip her hard enough to cause this type of reaction.