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“Yes,” I said.
“So… you didn’t um… touch her…?”
I looked at Leticia like she was insane. “Of course not,” I said. “Not immediately. That would have been a mistake.”
She shook her head and I saw the same insane look I had given her, reflected. She didn’t understand.
“I don’t understand,” she said.
I scraped the chair back and got to my feet. Leticia knew what was coming. She saw me begin to pace, and she immediately flipped over to a new blank page and flexed her cramping fingers in expectation.
“Leticia, one of a Master’s most potent, powerful weapons is…” I left the sentence unfinished, but continued to pace the floor. After a minute, Leticia made a sound like a subtle cough to get my attention.
“Is what?” she asked, frowning with curiosity. “What’s the potent weapon?”
I smiled. “Anticipation.”
“That’s a weapon?”
I nodded. “Anticipation is more potent than a whip and more compelling than handcuffs. The ability to tease and arouse a woman is a subtle skill few men ever bother to learn,” I said. “But learning the art of anticipation can make a woman go weak at the knees with longing.”
“I’m listening…” Leticia said. “But I don’t follow.”
“I’ll give you an example,” I smiled mischievously. “Come over here.”
Leticia rose from her chair obediently and stood facing me.
“Now close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to touch your shoulder, and then your cheek.”
She looked puzzled. She shrugged and closed her eyes. Then I touched her shoulder gently and slid my hand across the soft skin of her cheek. She opened her eyes again.
“How was that?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Um…okay.”
I nodded. “Because you knew exactly what to expect. Now close your eyes again, and keep them closed.”
When Leticia closed her eyes, I waited for a long moment, until she began to move her head as though listening to some soft secret sound. “Jonah…?”
I reached out and brushed my hand down the soft trembling skin of her throat and she let out an involuntary gasp. I withdrew my hand, and waited, counting out the long seconds. Leticia smiled a little nervously, and then I traced my fingertip down her forearm. She shuddered, and her breath caught in her throat. She opened her eyes, her face lightly flushed.
“Anticipating is expectation,” I said. “It’s the mystery of not knowing, and the heightening of all a woman’s senses. Anticipation draws out the moment so that the moment then becomes exquisite,” I explained. “And it is only something as powerful as anticipation that can elevate an ordinary touch to a breathtaking caress.”
Leticia sat back in her chair as though I had just revealed some profound mystery of the universe, while I continued re-telling my first encounter with Caroline.
“Caroline held her breath for as long as my hand remained unmoving, and then, as I edged it slowly lower, she let out a gasp. Her sex was shaved smooth, and my fingers slipped over the velvety soft lips of her pussy.
“‘You sought me out tonight,’ I said in a whisper. My mouth was just an inch from her ear. Her eyes were closed. ‘Why?’
“Caroline licked her lips. I kept my fingers teasing the flesh of her pussy and used the wetness of her to gently massage her clit. She bunched her hands into tight little fists of restraint.
“‘I want you as my Master,’ she told me. She said she had been involved in the lifestyle for over a year but had left her previous Master. When I asked her why, she said he hadn’t been man enough to dominate her.
“I asked Caroline what made her so sure I would be interested in a woman like her – and then I slid two of my fingers inside her. She arched her back so that her hips and breasts strained forward, her body bowed and trembling. Her mouth fell open in a soft purr of arousal as I played the tips of my fingers around her sex.
“She pleaded for me to take her on as my submissive. She promised she would deny me nothing. I told her it all depended on the taste of her pussy – and then I eased my fingers from inside her and held them up close to my face.
“Caroline’s eyes fluttered open. My fingers were slick and glistening with the juices of her arousal. I slowly licked at the taste, and then slid my fingers into my mouth.
“I narrowed my eyes, kept my expression stern and made her wait.
“You taste like honey,” I told her.
Leticia was fascinated. She had moved as I spoke. Now she was sitting on the edge of her chair, with her elbows on her knees and her hands cupping her chin. “Did she? I mean, did she really taste like that?”
I gave Leticia my serious face. “Leticia, no woman tastes like honey – but every man should tell the woman he is with that she does.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that every woman I have ever known intimately has been inhibited and self-conscious about the way their pussy might taste to a man.”
“Why?”
I shrugged. “How the hell would I know? You tell me. All I know is that women relax and let themselves go sexually once a man reassures her that he loves the way she tastes. I tell women they taste like honey. That’s the line I use, because I want them to relax and I want them to enjoy the experience of my tongue deep between their legs and licking their clit. Good sex isn’t possible if the woman I’m with is tense and anxious.”
“Is that in the Jonah Noble big book of rules?”
“Yes,” I said. “Page two.”
I finally screwed up my courage and sipped the coffee. It tasted like drain cleaner. Somehow I had mixed powdered coffee, milk, sugar and hot water, and created something that was probably toxic. I took the cups to the sink and found a bottle of whisky in a cupboard.
“So what happened with Caroline, after…”
“After what?”
“After… you know… your fingers…”
“No. I don’t know what you mean,” I said. “Say it.”
Leticia looked at me like I was a brute, and her lips compressed into a thin frosty line. “What happened after you licked Caroline’s pussy juices off your fingers and told her she tasted like honey?” she asked, holding my gaze defiantly, but blushing like a schoolgirl as she did.
I nodded, satisfied.
“I put my hand back between her spread legs and rubbed her gently until her hips were rocking with the pace of my fingers. And as I touched and teased her, I spoke quietly into her ear.
“I told her she was to come to my house the following evening. I told her she was to wear lingerie. I told her she shouldn’t make plans to go home until the following morning. Caroline nodded obediently – but by that point if I had told her to steal the Crown Jewels she probably would have agreed. I had her on the edge of her orgasm and deliberately held her there, right on the brink of exploding, but never quite touching her firmly enough to spark her release. Her teeth were bared, her lips pared back like she might snarl, and she sucked in short ragged breaths with growing desperation.
“When I was satisfied that Caroline had heard all of my instructions, and when I was sure she would obey, I left her and strolled back to the party.”
“You left her? You didn’t let her orgasm?”
“No.”
“That was mean!”
“It kept her keen,” I countered. “It told her, without me saying a word, that I had control, and that I made the decisions.”
“Did she come to your house the next night?” Leticia prompted.
“Yes.”
“And did she stay the night?”
“Yes. In my bed.”
