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And I opened my mouth, knowing what he intended. I met his eyes.
“Eyes down, Jodie,” he said quietly.
I did it. I let myself just be. I’d never tasted myself but that somehow made this better. I thrilled to the thought of being used.
With his hands on the counter to either side of my head, he thrust into my mouth, slow enough to let me get used to his bulk inside me there. Saliva built, slickening. He almost reached the back of my throat. I coughed, gagged, but he stayed there. I could do this. Had before. I swallowed desperately, eyes watering. Then he began to fuck my mouth in earnest. The rhythmic in and out let me catch my breath just enough. Just. Enough.
“That’s. Good,” he said huskily.
His thrusts intensified and his cock went in and out faster, harder. At last I felt the thickening and pulse as he came. His hands wrapped in my hair. His cum jetted down my throat. Semen reminded me of bad oysters, but I gulped it down and when he withdrew, I swallowed air, gulped some more.
When he released my hair, I looked upward, pleading with my eyes. Now, me?
“No.” He shook his head. “Now we eat. Rule. You stay on the floor when you eat.”
Crap. He had to be joking.
No. He was not.
* * * *
The plate was in front of me as I kneeled beside his chair. I stared down at it. Klaus ruffled my hair with his hand and passed me the maple syrup. I looked up at him and he gave me a small knowing smile, as if he waited to see what I’d do.
With my palms on my knees, I frowned again at the plate, thinking, trying to decide where I was at.
I was going to do this.
I didn’t know what it was about the situation that drew me. But I thought it revolved around belonging to him so deeply that it felt right. It was novel, thrilling and comforting. I could let him turn my ass black and blue, let him fuck me when he wanted and yet still be happy.
This was life brought down to its most primitive elements. Relying on someone else for everything.
For a supposedly pretend thing, this situation was becoming ever more surreal. But also ever more addictive. One day this would end, and where would our relationship be then? Where did I want it to be?
A memory came to me of one Valentine’s Day when we’d fed each other strawberries and chocolates down at the café on the beach. I’d threatened to bite his finger, but sucked it instead, in humorous, teasing way. He’d made me laugh that day. I’d never have let him, that him, do what Klaus had done to me just now. I’d have chewed him up and spit him out.
When I got angry with him back then, he’d mostly just sit and take it. Sometimes, he’d frown. Sometimes he’d explain why I was wrong, and sometimes he’d end up sulking and not talking to me for a day or two. And that, I realized, had made me despise him, just a little.
If I snapped at him now, even spoke out of turn, he’d have me facedown and caned so quickly. A shiver ran through me, cold and fast. Goosebumps. I stared some more at the floor. God. I liked this new firmness. I did. I must be mad.
Unhurried, I poured some syrup on, gave it back to him, took up the knife and fork, and I began to eat. On the other side of the coin, I was famished. He could have fed me whale blubber outside on the lawn and I would have eventually obeyed him.
When we’d eaten, I reluctantly washed up. Upholding the feminist tradition of self-righteousness and self-reliance was too ingrained for me to feel that doing this for a man, providing for him, was right. It always screwed with my sense of me.
The last dish dried, I turned to find Klaus there, crowding me back. By covering both my hands with his and pressing down, he nailed my hands to the counter top to either side. Then he kissed me thoroughly until I was afire again. I angled forward, grinding my hips against him. But no relief was in sight.
“You can come in a few days, if you behave.” He lowered his lips to mine and this time, he slipped his knee between my legs. The heavy muscle of his thigh was right where I couldn’t escape it. My arms stayed pinned out to the sides, and with my smaller body jammed into the counter by his weight, I could do nothing as he kissed me some more, breathing hotly into my mouth.
This was as restrictive as bondage. As freeing. I stopped struggling and gave in. When he ceased kissing me, I was shaking and my head was bowed back. He let me up and put his finger on my poor assaulted lips then rolled out my bottom lip a little. A familiar place for his finger. I licked him and delicately sucked his finger in a half-inch inch or so. Watching him, watch me suck on him, while I could feel the length of his erection against me, ahh, I couldn’t help myself. I moaned and spread my legs some more.
Mirth danced in his eyes but his thigh pressed on me harder, teasing me deliberately. “So desperate, Jodie? Be good. A few days only.”
Behave for a few days? I screwed up my forehead trying to convey my question.
But he only laughed. “I think you’ll know what to do. Look at how well you’ve learnt not to speak. Think about that if anything. Think about what it does to you, not being able to talk. Say it to the camera, behave for me, and you can come.”
Philosophy 101? Then I get to come? Wow.
I should have wanted to smack his face for that. But no. I would have kneeled and sucked his cock all day for how that had made me feel. Having to wait for permission to come, it just grabbed me somehow.
