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When he suggested being naked in public, my first thought was excitement. I know that’s wrong of me and I’d never admit it to anyone but the idea sent a thrill through me.
It’s because it’s so naughty, so bad. The kind of thing no decent person would do. Only an indecent person. Scandalous, like he said.
I remember one time when I was swimming and my top slipped, revealing a nipple. I think of the shock on the face of those who saw it happen. Excruciating yet exhilarating in equal measure. A feeling I made sure to forget.
An accident is one thing. I would never do it deliberately.
I can imagine it but I’d never in a million years be brave enough to do it. A month would not be long enough to build up the courage. But it can remain a fantasy in my head, something to think about once our month is up, something to pretend I’m brave enough to do.
I picture myself flashing him somewhere in public, revealing a lack of panties under my dress when he thinks I’m being respectable. Maybe one of his business meetings. Bending over to pick something up in front of him, knowing how hard it would make him.
I let out a moan, helped by the fact his lips are about to brush my clit. His tongue slides over my folds, dipping inside me, making my whole body tense up with need. I push my hips up toward him as his fingers brush over my clit, spreading me wide, ready for the tip of his tongue.
It hits my clit lightly a moment later, sliding back and forth over me, touching with just the right amount of force.
I look down at him and for a brief moment I’m sure I’m about to wake up. Nothing this exciting could possibly happen to me. I’m not an interesting enough person. I’m a bookworm. A geek. I’m not the sex goddess he seems to think I am.
I think of the spanking, of the way his breathing changed when he carried it out, of how dominant he felt to me, like he owned the whole universe, not just me. Like he was a God yet I held his entire attention, all on me. Hell of an ego boost, that’s for sure.
I close my eyes, giving in to the moment, my hands on my chest, stroking my nipples, teasing them, rolling them between my fingers as his tongue continues to bring me closer to orgasm.
He’s naked, which helps. My nudity alone felt so one sided but with him naked, I’m able to relax more.
“Come for me,” he says, thrusting a finger into me, rocking back and forth inside me. He keeps saying it like a mantra and I’m helpless to disobey.
Is this the life of a submissive? Obeying him without question, without thought?
A climax races through me as he slides the finger from me. He moves up my body while I’m still shaking in place from the power of the sensations hitting me. The world is no longer there. Only pleasure. He looks down at me, plunging his tongue into my mouth, swallowing my labored breath as if even that belongs to him.
“I’m going to come in you,” he says. “When I do, you’re mine. You understand?”
“I’m yours,” I say back to him, wishing it were true.
I’ve no doubt he’s said this line to dozens if not hundreds of women before. But in this moment, it’s a comforting lie to believe he means it. I will be his.
I wonder what it will feel like. How I’ll feel afterward. My thoughts are interrupted by the tip of him, pressing at the entrance to me. “Are you ready?” he asks. “Because once I do this, you are mine. What are you?”
“I’m yours.”
“Tell me to come in you.”
“Come in me, Vincenzo.”
“Good girl. Say it again.”
“Come in me. I want you to come in me.”
“Where should I come?”
“In my …”
“Say it. Say you want me to come in your pussy.”
“Come in my pussy.”
“Good girl. You are mine now.” He pushes himself into me. The moment it happens, I know he’s right. I am his. I could never want anyone else.
A connection is made between us, strengthened by the kisses he is planting on me. It’s a bond so strong, I doubt it could ever be broken.
