What To Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection Part Two (34 page)

Suddenly the stroking stopped. My legs kept moving for a moment, seeking contact with something I couldn’t see. There was a long pause, then movement, a shifting of weight between my legs and the right side of the mattress depressed slightly.

A slight breeze floated over my skin and then there were quick flicks of something across the nipple of one breast. I yelped in surprise as I felt that nipple contract and harden, immediately sensitive. The flicking then moved to the other nipple, with the same result. I could feel Jake’s warm breath on my arms as he moved between my breasts for several minutes, teasing each nipple repeatedly.

And then it stopped.

I held my breath, waiting, trying to imagine where he’d touch me again. I felt warmth on my breasts and then Jake’s lips were on my nipple, the flick of the feather replaced by the flick of his warm tongue. I cried out, lifting my head from the mattress, straining against my chains as he circled my hard nipple with his tongue.

He moved to the other nipple and I felt a wave of warmth flood through me, a curious feeling of tensing up and letting go at the same time.

This particular delicious torture went on for many minutes as he moved between my nipples, never doing more than flicking his tongue across them. I was pulling against my chains now in earnest, arching my back, seeking more contact with his mouth.

And then he was gone.

I cried out in despair, my body thrumming, suspended, aching for more. The cool air on my wet nipples made them contract painfully and I was helpless to keep quiet, driven by desire to speak.

“Please don’t stop. Jake, please…”

I thought I heard a sharp intake of breath, but I couldn’t be sure. It was a long time before I felt any movement on the bed, just a subtle shifting of weight.

When the feather finally came back it moved across my upper thighs, lightly stroking from hip to hip. It circled down between my legs, brushing the crease along my inner thigh, sliding dangerously close to my clit and then skittering away. It reappeared where it started, repeating this path, over and over.

My hips were writhing on the bed now, rising up, playing tag with the feather. It circled back between my legs once again, but this time it stayed, tracing the outer edges of my pussy, flicking over my clit.

I was moaning now, my body craving more contact. The feather continued for a moment, flicking back and forth, tickling and teasing.

And then even that was gone.

The shifting between my legs was more pronounced now. I felt Jake’s warm breath on my legs and the first flick of his tongue against my clit sent a shudder coursing through my body.
Finally, oh, god…finally.

He played his tongue in lazy circles over my clit before sliding it down my pussy, tracing the edges, working back up to circle around my clit again.

My body was building to its peak and I was rising on a current of sensations, spiraling upward, my hips pumping rhythmically as Jake did his magic with his tongue. I was crying out, pulling against my chains, poised on the edge of release.

And then he was gone.

“No!” There was no shifting of weight on the bed this time, just a steady exhalation of warm breath against my inner thigh. In frustration I twisted on the bed, willing myself to let go. But I couldn’t. My body was aching for release but I had no way of achieving it.

The room was quiet for a long time. I knew where Jake was but there was nothing I could do, except beg.

“Please, Jake…”

He was back, his tongue probing now, insistent, flattened against my clit, lapping at me before moving lower, working between the folds of my pussy, sliding inside me. Almost instantly I was twisting on the bed, pulling against my chains, moaning like a wanton creature beneath the onslaught of his tongue and mouth.

Because now, besides licking me, Jake had begun sucking my clit, pulling it into his mouth, tugging it briefly before releasing it.

I was hanging over the edge cliff again, relief and release so close I could taste them when Jake pulled away with a harsh noise, almost as painful sounding as my cry.

“Damn you!” I pulled against my chains in vain. “Fuck you, Jake. Stop doing this!”

There was silence and no movement from Jake for a long time. I was breathing hard, my head lifted from the mattress, tugging at my wrist chain, making it clank against something metal behind me.

Between my legs I finally heard noises, the soft sound of cloth moving and harsh breathing. Then there was weight on the mattress near my head and Jake’s warmth was against my body. I felt his legs push against my inner thighs and I suddenly knew where he was, what he was going to do.

And then he was there, his body pressed against mine, his cock sliding up the inside of my thigh. With one hard thrust he entered me, hard enough to push me up the bed until the chains on my ankles stopped me.

Our cries mingled then, his a long desperate moan, mine a cry of triumph. I was powerless to move beneath him, praying he wouldn’t take this chance of release away from me.

But I knew once he began thrusting into me that there was no turning back for him. He buried his head against my shoulder, each thrust accompanied by that same sound, a combination of need and desire.

There was no gentle building of arousal, no infinite time spent on a plateau of pleasure, only primal fucking. With no other physical outlet for what I felt, I bit down on Jake’s shoulder. I expected him to cry out or pull away, but he didn’t. He only said one word:

“Again.”

And I bit again, tasting blood on my tongue.

With a strangled cry, Jake bucked hard into me, grinding his body against mine. It was the contact my body sought and I cried out, pulling hard against my wrist restraints, my body contracting in the center. The orgasm that swept through me seemed to go on for whole minutes. I shuddered and twisted beneath his weight, crying out, tears streaming down my face.

Jake had held himself still inside me, either allowing me to finally experience my release or trying to hold back his. I really didn’t care at that point. But as my body began to relax, he began to thrust hard, with those same quick jabs, erratic and sharp. I felt the peculiar sensation of his cock growing even harder as he reached his orgasm.

And then he was coming, his body completely overtaken by his release. He wrapped his arms around my body, not so much in passion, but I think to keep hold of something solid.

After a long time his body stopped shaking, his muscles relaxing. I felt his cock growing soft, but he stayed inside me, kept his arms around me, his face buried in my neck.

“Jake?” He was quiet.

“Pineapple?”

He lifted his head from my shoulder, unwrapped one arm from my body. I felt his fingers pulling the blindfold up over my face. He tossed it off the side of the bed.

I blinked, even though the light in the room was dim. Jake pulled away from me, sitting up and groping for his sweat pants, which were in a heap at the end of the bed. He fished in the pocket, finding a small silver key.

He undid the cuffs at my wrists and then unlocked my ankles. I sat up, looking at Jake as he sat on the edge of the bed. He turned to me.

“Are you okay? How are your wrists?” He took my hands, gently chaffing my wrists. There were red marks around them. I was surprised how deep the marks were, how painful they were. The marks on my ankles weren’t as red or deep.

“You’re shivering, Abby.”

I looked up at him; suddenly I was shaking uncontrollably. Jake got off the bed and pulled open a drawer in the large cupboard, coming back with a soft blanket.

He wrapped the blanket around my shoulders, climbing up on the bed and leaning back against the head of the bed.

“Come here.” He pulled me up against him, wrapping his arms around me, holding me tight. I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, my body comforted by the warmth but still trembling.

We were quiet for a long time, Jake softly stroking my hair. “Do you want to talk about how you feel now, Abby. I want to…I’d like to know what you felt, how this experience was for you.” He was stroking my hair. I’d more or less stopped shivering but I was quiet, trying to put into words the whole experience.

“It wasn’t what I thought it would be. I guess I really don’t know what I thought it would be like, but I didn’t think I would have been so frustrated or so mad at you. I couldn’t…or didn’t want to…let you have control. I wanted to have some control myself.”

“It’s not easy being a submissive. But you can’t speak to me, other than to say the safe word. Your outburst wasn’t appropriate as a submissive, Abby. I should have administered some kind of punishment.” He took a deep breath. “We’ll talk about that before our next session; we can negotiate what happens if you step outside the protocol that we agreed on.”

I frowned: he was right but I didn’t want to admit it, at least not at that moment.

He was quiet for a time before speaking in a low growl. “Did you enjoy any of it?”

Did I? I thought about how I felt. My orgasm had been the most intense I’d ever experienced. “Yes, I did. It was…pretty amazing…whatever it was you did to me. With whatever it was you used.”

“It’s called edging.” Jake reached down, picking up what looked like a mini-feather duster, a plume of black feathers at the end of a long handle.

“I knew it was a feather!” I laughed. “I really wanted to call out that I knew what it was. But I managed to keep quiet…at least then.”

Jake smiled, then grew serious. “You could have used the safe word at any time, Abby. You know that. If it got too intense, you could have stopped me.”

He looked down. “Don’t ever feel like you can’t stop something. This isn’t just about me; it’s about your comfort too, about your enjoyment of this experience, to learn to enjoy being a submissive.”

I sat back up, kneeling next to him, holding the blanket around my shoulders. “I know. But I really didn’t want you to stop. I wanted that…edging…to continue. It was amazing. But a tiny part of me wanted to be mad at you, to feel that frustration somehow.” I paused, trying to put words to the feelings swirling through me. Jake was watching me intently, his blue eyes never leaving mine as I groped for words.

“When you finally took me, it was like I won, I was getting what I wanted. And that was intense. I don’t think it would have been nearly as intense if I’d have said ‘pineapple’ and you’d have just made love to me.”

Jake looked down at me. “Do you think that’s submissive behavior, Abby?”

I frowned. “Well, no…

His voice was soft, questioning. “I’m not criticizing you here. I want you to think…about your actions and reactions…and how you think that fits into this relationship, about your role as a submissive. Were you submissive today?”

My frown deepened. “No, I wasn’t. I wanted to be, at first at least. I wanted you to control everything, to give myself over to you. But when it got, well, frustrating, I got mad at you.”

Jake smiled. “I sensed that,” he said wryly. “It was pretty clear you were frustrated. But did you ever stop trusting me, trust that I was going to somehow make things better, give you something in return? Something beyond what you could have had in other context?”

“Maybe I did. Maybe that was the tipping point: I stopped trusting that you would take care of me. I thought you were just being mean.”

Jake made a non-committal noise in his throat. It was a long time before he spoke, as if weighing his words carefully.

“You’re not ‘winning’ anything; it’s not a contest. You’re submitting willingly and taking pleasure in the outcome…and in being a good submissive.” He hesitated, looking up at me. There was pain in his eyes. “I’m not trying to be cruel, Abby. I hope you know that.”

I reached out, touching the back of his hand. “I know…I know that now. But then…” I waved my hand. “I wasn’t really thinking then. I was going off pure emotion, or past experiences.” I made a face.

“I made a mistake today. My goal in this session was to withhold your orgasm until I wanted you to come, until I gave you permission, not until you won it from me. There’s a difference; I’m not dominating you if you feel you’ve gotten one over on me. There’s no power shift if you feel you won. And I’m sorry I wasn’t clearer in my expectations today. It won’t happen again.”

His gazed fell on my hands, still clutching the edges of the blanket. He took them both in his, running his fingers slowly over the angry red marks.

“We should wash these off. You can put ice on them later; it will help with the pain.”

I sat up suddenly, a flash of memory coming back, of Jake’s shoulder against my mouth, the taste of blood on my tongue.

“Oh! But I bit you.” I looked at his shoulder, a tiny drop of dry blood visible. My hand flew to my mouth.

“I didn’t remember…I’m sorry.” I reached out to touch him, but stopped, my fingers held above his skin. Was this aftercare or just caring? I pulled back in confusion.

He glanced down at his shoulder, frowning, then looking up to meet my gaze. A smile played around the corners of his mouth.

“And good submissives don’t bite.”

He slid off the bed and left the room. I could hear water running and then he returned with a damp washcloth and towels. He took my hands, lightly pressing the cool wet cloth against my hot wrists, dabbing gently.

Silently he handed me the cloth and I sat up, the blanket slipping from my shoulders. I dabbed at the marks, wincing inside.
I really did that?

Jake offered me a shower and food, but I refused. I wanted to be home, in my own bathtub, eating my own food. We dressed separately and he walked me down the stairs to my car, holding to door as we stepped outside. I blinked, expecting the bright sunshine of mid-afternoon. But I’d walked into the soft light of early evening.

I spun around. “What time is it?” Neither of us was wearing a watch and it dawned on me there had been no clock in the tower room.

“I really don’t know, Abby. I wasn’t paying attention.” He was looking down at me, a slight smile playing around the corners of his lips.