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He came with a gorgeous cry of her name. A judder then panting in her ear. Familiar signs of completion.
Free of her restraints, she lay on the bed and he rested the vibrating wand between her legs and let her come in her own time, without interference. She clutched the device, pressing it onto her tender bud. The sudden arrival of her orgasm surprised her. An urgent need requited with little effort.
“Well?” he asked, as she curled up, basking and content.
“A good start. I might need to wear a bra, though, unless you plan to act as a surrogate bra each time.” The scene, although brief, was just what she needed to give her confidence.
“I’ll let you wear a bra. Something pretty, though. You did well, babe. Made me come easily. I quite like holding those bulging boobies of yours. Remember, if it all reaches the point where you can’t do the kink, or even plain sex, I will wait for you, babe. I can be patient; you know that.”
She clambered over him, lying on his body, and his arms folded about her. His heart under her ear, the perfect sound. “I love you,” she murmured.
Saturday evening arrived—the next session. Gemma wore a frilly pink bra, minimal coverage with sufficient support to enable him to bounce her around he if was inclined. He strung her up from the pulley. Wrists bound above her head with her feet planted on the wooden floor. Blindfolded, the last image she’d seen before she was enveloped in darkness had been Jason standing in his cargo trousers and smooth, bare chest with firm pectorals. Sexy man!
She didn’t jump out of her skin with surprise when the flogger landed. Jason had warned her in advance about his choice. Nothing harsh, the carefully applied lashes hardly registered as pain. The jiggling beads at the end of the tails bit, minor stings lasting a split second. He expertly curled them up between her legs, catching her delicate clitoris. Rather than strike her with the flogger, he wrapped it around her, drawing the tails across her skin. The ripples of beads felt cold against her warmth.
She whimpered and moaned throughout the delicious scene, an erotic and calming one. The moment the tails coiled around her thighs, she was blissfully happy. She let her mind go, started to feel floaty—not a subspace kind of floating, more of a content drifting sensation. It enveloped her, centring her mind, and heightening her sexual arousal. She wanted to come. He’d barely touched her, and she yearned for a climax.
“I want to come,” she muttered, more to herself than him.
“What was that?”
“Can I come?” she groaned, tilting her head back.
He rocked the flogger back and forth, tickling her eager sex.
“If you ask properly. Just because you’re pregnant doesn’t make you immune to good manners,” he reprimanded with a sultry voice.
“Please, may I come, Sir,” she gasped.
“You may.”
With his permission and minimal stimulation from his caressing flogger, she exploded. Her knees buckled, and she pulled her legs up. Her body quivered, and she thrashed her head from side to side. On and on the spasms went, and, throughout her orgasm, he kept knocking the suede tails against her clit.
He released her from the pulley then pinned her wrists down on the bed, and she wrapped her legs about him as he thrust in and out. Fast and deeper than he done since the pregnancy had begun. She felt no pain or discomfort. A perfect act of sexual intercourse, stimulating and intimate, their bodies moving in unison. His tongue savoured her skin, licking her flesh where sweat seeped out of her pores. He swept away the blindfold, and tears streamed down her face.
He rose slightly, taking his weight off her body. “Babe?”
“I’m fine. Please don’t stop.”
Gemma pushed her pelvis up to meet his thrusts, arching her back and clenching her pussy tight about him. He gasped at the rigidity she was creating between her legs. Their coupling perfect and lengthy in nature, neither wanted to end the joining of their bodies. They came almost simultaneously, his body shuddering as he ejaculated inside her pussy, while she bucked about underneath, riding the waves of spasms.
He tossed a sheet over her. “Why the tears?”
The shivering abated. “I said I was going to be emotional. Damn hormones. I feel like all my emotions are overexerting themselves. Hammered by hormones!” She giggled. Her body pressed against his naked form while his nose brushed her hair.
He sniffed. “You smell different. Sweeter.”
“Sweaty!” She laughed. “Thank you. For bringing me in here. Making me do that ridiculous research and essay. I just hope I don’t burst into tears every time!”
“So do I. It’s very disconcerting. Fucking a crying woman in the middle of her orgasm. You were delectable, hanging up there with your pink bra. If that’s as much as you can tolerate pain wise, I am more than happy, babe. If you don’t want it, the kink, we’ll manage without. Other things are more important now.”
He leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips. Gemma didn’t want to tell him he could have gone harder on her. She decided to save the admission for another day.
She loved him so much. Her perfect husband and Dominant all rolled up into one perfect package of love.
Chapter 5. Tea
Jason scanned the clinic, before returning to check messages on his mobile. Unlike Gemma’s GP’s surgery, an inner city NHS practice, the private clinic served a different class of clientele. The chairs weren’t bolted to the floor, and the TV monitor, instead of warning of the perils of overeating, churned out advertisements for expensive, unnecessary baby products. Waiting to see Mrs Henderson—Maggie—in the plush seating area of the private maternity unit, Gemma pondered on the strangeness of how a thread of e-mails could lead to the beginnings of a friendship.
