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“Let’s go back to my place,” she told me.
Emily rented an apartment just ten minutes from where we worked. The downstairs was a kitchen and living space. Upstairs were a couple of bedrooms and a compact bathroom.
We made it as far as the foyer.
She had been pensive and withdrawn in the drive back to her home. Now, suddenly, she was ravenous. She brushed against me like a sleek cat in the doorway and then pushed the door closed with her hip and threw herself into my arms. We kissed fiercely, breathless. My hands went to her ass as her arms locked around my neck.
We stumbled as far as the sofa and spent the rest of the evening on the carpeted floor, peeling away each other’s clothes and making small murmured sounds of delight. Emily’s kisses were like fire, the swirl of her tongue within my mouth wet and moist and alive.
I rolled her onto her back and unbuttoned her blouse. She lay with her legs apart unbuckling and unzipping her own jeans. I took one of her nipples into my mouth and she hissed through her teeth and then arched her back. I felt her hands entwine into the hair at the nape of my neck, clutching me to her while my free hand glided down across her belly and within the elastic of her lace panties.
Now that we were locked together, Emily seemed a willing passive partner. She groaned when the tips of my fingers brushed against the hard nub of her clit and then she groaned more deeply as my touch became more insistent, more demanding.
I let her nipple slip from my lips and lay on my side with my elbow propped beneath me. I studied Emily’s face.
Her eyes were screwed tightly shut, her brow crinkled into a little furrow of concentration. There was heat and color rising on her cheeks and her mouth was open, her lipstick smudged by our kisses. My palm between her spread legs was pressing against her clit and I watched the changing play of her features and emotions as her arousal slowly grew, like rising music towards a crescendo. I felt the slick warm wetness of her in a rush and then two of my fingers slipped inside her pussy.
She was wearing red lace panties and my knuckles were tight bulges inside the sheer fabric, moving and manipulating as though I were fine tuning a beautiful instrument. For an instant Emily’s eyes fluttered open. She gazed at me and her eyes were dreamy. Her mouth became a cunning, secret smile, and then changed again into a perfect ‘O’ as I filled her clenching pussy with another finger.
I kissed her again, this time more deliberately, in complete control. She was at my willing whim, and there was plenty I wanted from her.
The kiss lasted a long time and when we broke apart, both panting, I told Emily that for the night she was my submissive. I told her I expected her complete unquestioning obedience.
She nodded her head, suddenly solemn. I told her to get undressed.
I wanted her naked.
I led Emily into her kitchen. Nested around a wooden table were four chairs and a wall covered by vertical drapes. I asked Emily what was behind the drapes and she told me it was a set of sliding glass doors with a view through her neighbor’s living room window.
I set a chair facing the drapes and ordered Emily to sit with her legs wide apart. I told her to pleasure herself. I wanted to watch her cum. Emily nodded and gnawed at her lip. Her right hand dipped spontaneously to the shaved mound of her pussy, and then she touched herself with several slow lingering caresses before pressing against her clit with her fingertips. I stood and watched her for several moments – and then drew the vertical blinds open.
For an instant Emily froze, like a shocked deer in the middle of a road, suddenly caught in the glare of headlights. There was a light on in a window of the facing house.
Emily made to flee from the chair but I snapped at her. I told her I wanted to watch her orgasm. The sooner she got herself off, the sooner the blinds would be closed.
She flashed me a venomous glare and then screwed her eyes tightly shut. Her face looked as though she were in some deep trance of concentration. Her nipples came taut and then her abdomen began to undulate as her tummy concaved with each deeply drawn breath.
Okay… I just need to stop here for a moment because I’m wondering if you notice a trend yet?
I’ll come back to my story about Emily very soon, but this is important – important enough to share a secret with you.
I’ve always made it a rule in my BDSM experiences to insist my submissive pleasure herself before I ever attempt to bring her to orgasm.
Why?
Well how else will I know how to pleasure her – how best to touch her to bring her to release?
A woman’s orgasm is hidden behind a million combination tumblers; what works for one woman never, ever works in exactly the same way for the next. Most guys might think they know how to pleasure a woman. And maybe they do.
A woman. A single woman.
But any guy who uses exactly the same techniques on every woman he ever tumbles into bed with is going to disappoint the majority of them.
I’m not smart. I’m just smart enough to know I need each lady’s combination. It’s the only way the sex can be mutually satisfying, after all.
Okay. Okay. I know – there’s nothing worse than breaking off a good story just when it’s about to get interesting. I’ll come back to Emily and what happened during our first night together…
While Emily slowly rose towards the thrill of her release I studied her closely; the way she moved, and the little touches that seemed to turn her breath into soft gasps. She reached the brink at last and teetered there for over a minute. In that time she never breathed – the air became jammed in her throat so that when she went crashing through the thrash of her orgasm, she was panting and starved for air as if she had run to the end of a marathon finishing line.
She was like a limp rag doll in the chair, her arm dangling between her spread legs and one of her legs tapping a trembling beat against the floor. Her head lolled to the side, her eyes bleary as though she had just awaken. I drew the vertical drapes closed and took her languid hand.
Quietly, I led her up the stairs.
One bedroom was filled with cardboard boxes and in the other room was an unmade king-size bed. Emily moved like a sleepwalker. I positioned her at the foot of the bed and gently put pressure on her shoulders. She understood instinctively and sank to her knees before me.
I unzipped my jeans and stood perfectly still. Emily took me tentatively in her mouth and my hands went to the back of her head, guiding and instructing her with the pressure of my touch.
She was willing but lacked skill, and it took more patience than I had in order to finally control her throat gagging lunges into a more sedate, controlled rhythm. After a couple of minutes, I was still hard but no more aroused. I drew myself back from between her lips, wet and glistening and Emily sat back on her haunches, pouting her lips like a petulant child.
I ordered her to start again. Emily sulked for a moment longer and then she opened her mouth wide. Firmly, I cupped her face in my hands and then slowly pushed my hips forward until the hard swollen tip of my cock was resting on her tongue. Emily’s eyes were enormous, fixed upon my face and her mouth filled with saliva. I held myself between her lips for a long moment and then inched myself deeper into her mouth.
Instinctively Emily’s mouth clamped tight around the heat of my shaft. I gave her a sharp warning look, and her expression altered. She let out a long breath through her nose and the tension in her melted a little. I thrust slowly forward until I felt the tip of my cock brush against the back of her throat, and then withdrew myself quickly, before she gagged.
“Again.” I said.
We repeated the process for several minutes until Emily understood that her mouth was being used for my pleasure. She became completely passive, and when her eyes at last closed and the final shreds of her resistance drained away, I began to rock my hips, at last able to enjoy the sensations as her tongue fluttered along my shaft and my cock became coated with the moist wetness of her desire to please.
