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“But how can I be perfect if I don’t even know what rules I’m supposed to be following?”
“Just do what I say,” he said in that low, soothing voice of his. “I’ll tell you what my rules are as I see fit. You just need to stop working so hard. Stop trying. When you stop trying to figure out what I want and just do what I say… you’ll know bliss.”
Holy hell.
His words were like a warm bath. I just stared at him until I realized that he hadn’t said anything in a long moment. It was like he was giving me a minute to process, waiting, again, for me to respond.
“So… that’s how it works? You control everything, the entire time?”
“That’s how it works. But it only works with established limits. Without limits, I could make a mistake. Do something you don’t want me to do. And I don’t want that to happen. If you don’t enjoy the experience, I don’t enjoy the experience.”
I nodded, taking that in.
“How do you feel about everything I just said?” he asked me.
I stared at him, feeling utterly obsessed.You’re perfect.
But all I said was, “I like it.”
“Tell me your safeword.”
“Um. I don’t know…”
“Make it something you wouldn’t otherwise say during sex. If you saynoorstop, I am going to stop, at least pause, and check in with you. I promise you that. But your safeword gets you immediate relief from whatever’s happening. I can give you a safeword, if you prefer.”
“California,” I said suddenly.
He stared at me. Maybe he didn’t like that? A reminder that I was leaving. That this was ending, soon.
Almost as soon as it was getting started.
I didn’t totally love it, either. But it just popped into my head.
“Fine,” he said. “California it is. If you say it, everything stops. Use it only if you want a full stop.”
“Okay. I understand.”
“When we play, we’re going to use a hot and cold scale. Very simple. Hot means you love it or want to try it. Warm means you like it or you’re open to trying it. Cold means no. You know what a hard limit is?”
“Yes. It means it’s off-limits. I don’t want to do it.”
“Good. Cold is your hard limit.”
“Okay,” I said.
“When I ask you if you want something or if you like something, I expect honest answers, Jolie. That’s the only way this works.”
“Okay. Yes.”
“Don’t worry about hurting my feelings, or getting it wrong, if you say cold.”
“Okay.” Shit. How did he know I was already thinking about that? It crossed my mind, as soon as he explained the hot/warm/cold thing.
He got up and moved to stand behind me, laying his warm, strong hands on my shoulders. I relaxed at the contact. Then he started massaging my shoulders. I was finished eating and utterly melted at his touch, his deft fingers.
Could he tell how tense I was? How nervous?
Yes, he can fucking tell.
