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He added my panties to the pile beside him, looking me over.
“Look at me.”
I did, fighting the urge to cover up. It was all becoming so very real. Frightened but excited, I started to softly tremble.
“Come here.”
I stepped towards him, feeling vulnerable from inches away. Hand on my hip, he pulled me closer, caressing from my knee northward.
“Oh,” I gasped, as he cupped the skin between my thighs.
“Are you a virgin?” he asked, as he lightly stroked my tender pussy lips.
“Yes, Sir.”
I was dripping for him, and it was so obvious that I felt embarrassed.
“Good. You won’t be by the time I get through with you, although that probably won’t be today. Turn.”
I did and he bent me right over, hands holding my ankles. Spreading first my pussy lips, then my ass cheeks, he surveyed my tiny virgin holes.
His exploration was accentuated by his tender tongue. He ran the gamut from my clit to my asshole, before dipping back down to my tight, pink folds. He was gently exploring my inner realm, playing sweet music on my clit. The lightest touch was putting me through the roof.
Wetting a finger, he explored my interior, only stopping when he found my clit. Rocking gently, like low tide, he fingered me, bringing tears to my eyes.
I shifted my hips as he worked me toward ecstasy. Improbable as it seemed, my pussy got even tighter around his finger, amping things up even more.
If I thought he was making me wet before, now it was like an earthquake on the ocean floor, my own version of a tidal wave crashing on his attending hand.
“Fuck. Sorry.”
“No, never apologize, not for a natural response.”
It wasn’t a scold so much as an instruction. He was teaching me about how the world really was, and that I should be accepting myself rather than feeling ashamed.
On the couch once more, he massaged the tension from my back and legs. I sank even further into the soft leather, enjoying his tender touch.
Sven had been right. Reading about BDSM really was different but in the best possible way. Reality went far beyond anything I could have imagined.
He pulled me up so that I was head down, ass up, just like the song. I was sure he was going to fuck me. At least in my pussy if not my ass. Fear and excitement crashed headlong inside me like freight trains.
Gentle caresses told me where he was going, or so I thought. The squeeze soon turned into a spank. My yelp resounded in the small room. Going back in with strokes, he hit me again. The flat of his palm thumped rhythmically on both my ass cheeks, helping me relax.
Then the cupping started. Using quick, upward strokes, his hand cupped just so, grabbing big handfuls of my ass and squeezing hard. The sweet sensation brought a moan from the depths of my soul.
“Oh!” I gasped as he stretched my ass, a hand on each of my cheeks.
“That’s a good girl,” he whispered. “Let your dom handle these gorgeous curves. Don’t move a muscle while I get a feel for your body.”
“Yes, Sir,” I said, keeping myself completely still.
Pulling the lips of my pussy open wide, he relaxed things again, before repeating, stretching out both my holes until I was close to crying tears of joy. I’d never even imagined such a thing, or that it could ever feel so good.
He stretched me within inches of my torso and reverted back to more traditional modes of pleasure. He was playing with my clit as he licked my asshole, keeping my cheeks spread with one hand. I pushed my hips back, pressing even harder against him as he worked, wanting to feel as much as I could.
I collapsed in a heap on the cushy cushions, and he massaged me all over. Strong hands worked every inch from my shoulders to my feet, getting me back to a state that felt something like normal. My pussy was still feeling the effects of his fingers.
“On your knees,” he said, after I’d recovered.
Up like a shot, I fell on my knees. The bulge of his big cock was already outlined in his sleek suit pants. As he lowered his fly, inch by inch, it slowly appeared, rising from the depths like an obelisk, nearly too big for my mind to hold.
Sven wasn’t a small guy— he was rather tall and muscular— but his cock was something else. It looked at least twelve inches long and had the approximate width of my fist and was very solid. It seemed like something from a fantasy, the sort of thing one only read about in erotic books, going far beyond the platonic ideal.
After caressing my cheek, his hand moved around back, seizing my hair deep at the root. It didn’t hurt, not at all. There was a technique to everything, as I was learning.
