I lit some candles and bought sparkling cider for effect. When he got there, he was already covered in sweat and not because he was hot, it was fall and chilly out.
We sat on the couch and he fondled me with stiff hands unfamiliar with exploring a woman’s body as we kissed with tightly puckered lips. His robotic movements against my body made me feel like I was being patted down by security at the airport, not having an intimate moment.Gosh, we really have no idea what we’re doing here.
After the deed was done, if you could even call it that, I was stillnaked looking for my bra trying to stay hidden beneath the sheet from my bed. He went on a ten-minute spiel about being diagnosed with Hyperhidrosis, giving me all the facts and listing the research behind it.
When he finally left, I showered in hopes of rinsing away whatever it was that we did that night and throwing it as far away from my memory as possible. I was successful all through Thanksgiving break until we went back to school.
He started acting funny. He followed me around, trying to hold my hand and carry my books. It was sweet, and all, but we had an arrangement, and doing all that relationship stuff wasn’t part of it. I had no interest in him that way, so I had to let him down easy. Soon after, he and Jenny Jenkins became an item. They were like two peas in a pod. It turned out she also suffered from Hyperhidrosis.
After that one encounter, I remained unintentionally celibate. I was happy living vicariously through the feisty FMCs in the fictional dark romance novels I filled my shelves with, and Lacy’s tale tales of her promiscuous nights out after she and her boyfriend broke up. Pleasuring myself after reading about a woman being choked, spit on, strapped down then used for the MMC’s pleasure.
I’d imagined myself in her place many times…
What it would feel like to be tied down and fucked into the mattress until I couldn’t move my limbs, completely exhausted from one full-body orgasm to another, given by a man that was relentless when he was deep inside of me, but then turned into a cuddly teddy bear when it was just the two of us?I always wondered what it would feel like to have a man force his hard cock down my throat as he thrusts deep into my open mouth, gripping my hair in his hands to push and pull my head up and down his shaft. The daydreams and nightly ruminations that piqued my interest most were the ones that conjured up fantasies of a dominant man pursuing a submissive woman.
“Hello? Delaney?! Are you still there?!” Lacy was now yelling at me in an annoyed tone, breaking me from my thoughts.
Just the idea of Dallas made my imagination run wild…
“Look, if you wanna go back with me next week, you can but it’s a totally different vibe. Tonight was more chill so they tend to overlook some rules on Open Door night,” she said with a serious look, an intensity she rarely gave off but now was changing her eyes to a darker shade of blue.
I couldn’t imagine Lacy in a strict setting, but then again, I couldn’t actually see her as a submissive either.
“Okay,”
I wondered what Dallas would be like as a Dominant. Before I could get too far into my little fantasy, Lacy added, “I’m serious Delaney. There’s a certain culture that is to be upheld and is expected. Are you okay with seeing women collared and led on leashes? Or someone on all fours being paraded around like an animal? Because those are the types of things you could see. They can get into some pretty crazy things and sometimes those things are practiced right out in the open.”
I dismissed her warning because I didn’t plan to go back. I don’t think I could fit into that scene, more specifically, fit in with Dallas.
* * *
As I lay in bed, my mind circled around the idea ofhim. Hearing Dallas growl into my neck, praising me, nudging me to watch the salacious activities that went on in the pleasure dungeon. All the times he stepped so close behind me that I could feel his firm muscular body pressed against me, his breath on the back of my neck…and that mask.
Mmmm, why the heck did the mask arouse me so much? I mean, it’s a Ghostface mask, kids wear them at Halloween. I could analyze myattraction to this masked man but the sensations I was now feeling were far more appealing to lean into.
Even just the thought of being pleasured by him while he wore that mask enveloped my body with yearning. My breath became shallow and I felt my panties moisten with my need for Dallas. I closed my eyes and traced my stomach with my fingertips. I took a deep breath as I tried to calm down. The more I refused to touch myself thinking of Dallas Freaking Kingston the more I desired for a release.
The thought of Dallas bending me over that spanking bench and smacking my bare skin with that paddle was unbearable. My willpower failed me when I slipped my fingers past the band of my sleep pants and grazed my clit with my knuckle, teasingly. I was pulsing to my core, begging for release. I reached down to push my hand under the fabric of my cotton panties, feeling myself wet with pleasure.
I focused on my movements and the sensitivity of my clit, slowly caressing it with my fingertips. I closed my eyes and envisioned what it would be like to surrender to a man like Dallas Kingston, to have his veiny tattooed hand wrapped around my throat as he took what he wanted from me, to be on my knees submitting to him and all his dirty desires. My fingers moved faster and I held my breath, edging toward a release that was much needed after such an arousing experience earlier as I watched those dirty fetishes played out right in front of me. I felt my body begin to tense, my eyes still closed and my mind still playing out my fantasies of being taken by a masked man. My heart pounded as my body raced toward my release. My fingers moved faster and faster, moving in and out, stimulating my every nerve. My mind went blank, blissful as my body rode the wave of the most intense orgasm I ever gave myself. Lost in the euphoria of ecstasy, I screamed, “Yes, Dallas, yesssssss.”
Don’t make me ask twice…
Dallas
Sitting at my desk trying to do anything other than think about Delaney, I watched the cameras at the club entrance, pretending not to wish it was her every single time a dark-haired woman walked through the door. I never let anyone get under my skin but since last week Delaney has crawled under and laid dormant there.
I have all the resources at my disposal, I could easily track her down and convince her to come back to my playroom and scratch this irritating itch, but the thought of having her beneath me and it being temporary seemed to throw me off my habitual ‘one-time’ routine.
Having someone in your bed or on their knees for you more than once causes chaos emotionally. I always have the discussion of expectations, everything laid out on the table before any session but nothing additional to offer, yet out of nowhere the possibility of giving all me to Delaney overwhelmed me internally in the greatest way. It wasn’t the fear of loving someone that prevented me from any real connection, it was the fear of losing them that crippled any chanceat true happiness for me. Instead of love, I’ve searched for lust and the next mouth to slide my cock into to keep me satisfied enough not to think too hard about my losses. It’s worked so far but something switched when I met Delaney and now my rhythm seems off.
A small knock at the door disrupted my ruminating thoughts. I didn’t expect any visitors nor had I called for anyone, so the knock was unexpected.
“Enter,” I commanded, sitting back in my chair. As the door slowly opened I could see the well-manicured fingers of a woman holding the door frame, but nothing else. The door slowly creaked open to reveal a red headed woman dressed in a trench coat and heels.
“Good evening Mr. Kingston,” she cooed, leaning against the door frame teasing the straps that held her coat closed concealing what I imagined to be a curvy body underneath.
I cleared my throat, “Hello, Miss…?” I questioned, wondering who let her in here. For this reason, I have security at all entrances in the back of the club.
