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“You know I can’t say I’m not interested.”
“Then why did you ask in the first place?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Because I wanted to know.”
“I’m not going to run off and leave you or ask for a divorce if you don’t want to play more often.”
We were interrupted by the waitress bringing our lunch. I was suddenly famished. The breakfast he’d fed me earlier was totally gone. I took a huge bite of the sandwich and glanced across the table to him.
“This sandwich is so good.” I nodded toward my plate, but from glancing at his, he’d ordered the same thing. He picked up his sandwich and took a bite.
“Mmmm. Yes.”
We ate quietly for a few minutes. I was glad of the time to digest what he’d said, and I could tell Nathaniel was gathering his thoughts as well.
“Okay, so you’re not going to leave or get a divorce. But what would you have done if you’d felt this way years ago? Like when you were looking for a submissive?”
“I don’t think I can say for sure. So much of who I am is tied up in you and what we have. It wouldn’t be like that with just anyone.”
“True,” I said. “I’ll buy that.” I was comforted by his words, and ready to ask the harder questions. “Would you start off with more than just weekends?”
“Probably not. Dominance is a need for me, but I don’t want a twenty-four-seven submissive.”
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s take the rest of this week to think this through. I’ll come up with some ideas.”
“Thank you, Abby.”
* * *
“We aren’t going back to the hotel?” I asked, looking out the car window as we drove away from the restaurant. From what I could tell, we were headed in the opposite direction.
“No,” Nathaniel said. He closed his eyes and leaned back into the seat. “You’ll have to be patient and wait to see where we’re going.”
“Men,” I mumbled under my breath.
He hadn’t put his collar back on me after lunch. I knew he hadn’t simply forgotten about it. He hadn’t recollared me for a reason. He also enjoyed teasing me. There was no doubt in my mind that he was thoroughly enjoying not telling me where we were going.
“It’s Delaware, right?” I asked. “It can’t be that earth-shattering.”
“Wait and see,” he said, eyes still closed.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“Thank you.”
“I should have brought a book. I would have if I’d known we were going to spend half the day in the car.”
“We aren’t spending half the day in the car and even if we were, you’d get carsick.”
“True.” But it was fun being a brat sometimes. I glanced up, checking to be sure the glass divider between the back and front seats was up and the driver couldn’t hear us. “Too bad he can see us. If he couldn’t, we could find a way to make the time go by quicker.”
He finally cracked one eye open. “Are you bored?”
“No, just saying I might be by the time we get to wherever it is we’re going and that an orgasm or two would certainly make the trip go by faster.”
“You want an orgasm?” he asked in that you really shouldn’t have tone of voice.
“Um, maybe?”
“Oh, I think you do. So let’s take care of that. Right now.”
Exhibitionism I was into, but I really wasn’t sure I wanted our driver to see anything. “We just have to be careful. We can’t distract the driver and have him crash the car,” I said.
“Now you’re going to be all logical?” He shifted in his seat so he could see me better. “Let me worry about the details.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what the details were.
“Normally, I’d just fuck you here in the backseat, but since you’re so worried about distracting the driver, I’ll have to give you an orgasm without touching you.”
“What’s the fun in that?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Now you want a fun orgasm? I thought you were only after a way to make the miles go by faster.”
“I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead.” Sassy was fun. Digging myself a hole to get out of was another thing entirely.
“I think that would be wise.”
So do I get an orgasm?
“The driver can’t see below your waist,” Nathaniel continued. “Lift the hem of your skirt and finger yourself.”
Oh, shit.
“I think I’m okay. Seriously. Don’t need an orgasm after all.” I looked out the window. “Look at that guy driving the motorcycle. He looks exactly how I pictured Santa when I was little. Minus the motorcycle, of course.”
“Unfortunately, you’ve goaded me into giving you an orgasm, so if you don’t have at least one in the car, I won’t let you have one the rest of the time we’re here.”
I gaped at him. “But that’s days!”
“Yes, I can do math. Maybe next time you’ll think before you speak.” He sounded smug. He knew there was no way I’d risk not having an orgasm for the remainder of our trip.
I still didn’t move.
“Lift the hem of your skirt and finger yourself. Now.”
I sighed, but raised the hem of my skirt so it came midway between my upper thighs.
“Higher,” he said.
I inched it up a tiny bit.
“Pull it up so I can see your pussy.”
I hiked it up so I was fully exposed. I glanced at the driver, but he was watching the road. From the way his head bobbed, I guessed he was singing along to the radio.
“There we go,” Nathaniel said. “Now finger yourself.”
I slid a tentative finger along my slit. Fuck, I needed some friction.
“Bet you’re so wet, my cock would slide right in.”
“Bet you’re right.”
“Close your eyes,” he said and his voice was firmer.
Public play was fun and it turned me on, but I liked having my sight. One of the areas I needed to work on was trusting him more in these type of scenes. I closed my eyes, but it took some effort on my part.
“Very nice,” he said. “You’re getting better.”
“Thank you, Sir. I want to please you.”
“You do,” he assured me. “Now, I want you to imagine we’re in the playroom. How are you situated?”
I loved it when he had me imagine a scene. I spoke the first image that came to my mind. “I’m bent over the whipping bench.”
“Interesting. Have you been naughty?”
“Yes, Sir. I called you a sadistic bastard after you wouldn’t let me come for a week.”
He laughed. “Then I’m going to have to be a little mean to that bare pussy.”
“I was hoping you’d say that, Sir.” Play and imaginary punishments were fun. Had I really been bent over the whipping bench for saying something like that, I wouldn’t be nearly as relaxed or as turned on as I was at the moment.
