No Ordinary Love Story: Sequel to The Diary of a Submissive (30 page)

He walked over to me and crouched down so he was almost at eye level. His hands reached out and touched the material, stroking up and down my body, then grasping, as if he wanted to get as much of my latex-covered breasts in his hands as possible.

‘Oh my fucking God.’

This is not the kind of reaction I am used to getting for my outfit choices. I say this with no sense of self-pity, just the realism of a woman who wears minimal make-up, owns more geeky T-shirts that she does dresses and never learned to wear heels. I smiled up at him. His reaction was exactly what I had hoped for. More, actually. It definitely made the self-consciousness worthwhile.

He leaned down to kiss me, and I arched up to him eagerly. As our tongues moved he continued to run his hands over me. After a long time – not that I was complaining – he stood up in front of me. He started to unbutton his jeans but I reached out and put my hand over his to stop him. He looked down at me with a raised eyebrow. I could tell he was deliberating over whether to grab my wrists and take control or see what I had planned. My throat was a little clogged as I prepared to speak up, but I’d thought about this over and over in my head, running through it.

‘Let me,’ I whispered.

He returned my smile and, as I started to move, helped me to my feet. As soon as I was upright I wrapped my arms round his neck and started to kiss him eagerly. I pushed my body against him and my tongue into his mouth, controlling the kiss, teasing him and making him groan as his hands found my arse. I smiled as I continued to massage his tongue with mine, shifting us round slightly so that his back was to the bed. I pulled away from him and gently pushed him down onto the mattress, immediately following and crawling up his body, remaining on all fours as I kissed him again. His hands returned to stroking and groping me through the dress.

I wouldn’t have described Adam as a switch. By his own admission, he was a big wuss when it came to pain and he didn’t like being humiliated or embarrassed. However, from time to time he did love just lying back and enjoying me teasing the life out of him. His tolerance for teasing was actually far higher than mine (and he certainly didn’t harrumph if I slowed down as he got close to orgasm as I sometimes did when the tables were turned).

I would kiss him or lick him or suck him, rub his shoulders or scratch between his shoulder blades. It tended to be something I did when I could see he was stressed or tired. He told me it made a nice change to just switch off his brain. He said that he loved the mental challenge of dominating me but it meant he always had to be paying very close attention and planning his next move. This way he felt like he was being spoiled without having to think: he just got to relax instead. It was rare that he craved this, but I could tell when he did and – let’s face it – I could relate to enjoying those feelings more than most. I loved fussing over him that way; it was an intimate way for me to show him how much I loved him.

So, when I took hold of his wrists and firmly pulled his hands away from my body, pinning them above his head on the pillow, he didn’t complain. He actually smiled eagerly. I reached for the bedside table and took a short length of rope that I’d packed for just this purpose, wrapping his wrists together and tying them to the headboard. It was a fairly crude piece of bondage and one he could have got out of quite easily I’m sure (I didn’t have Adam’s shibari rope bondage skills – in fact, I’d been rubbish doing knots at Brownies), but he clearly didn’t want to wriggle free so I didn’t waste too much time worrying about it.

After he was bound I sat up, straddling his waist and feeling his erection pressing against my arse through his jeans. I moved my hips just a little, making him gasp again. I winked at him.

I reached down and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, gently touching and stroking his skin as it came into view. As I
reached the last button I pulled the shirt open and dived down to kiss him once more, this time making sure to rub the latex up and down against his bare chest and stomach in a way that made him shiver. I moved from his mouth, kissing down his chin and neck and then round to his ear. I nibbled on his earlobe and whispered, telling him to make himself comfortable because he was going to be here a while. He pushed his pelvis up at these words and let out a low growl – arousal and frustration mixed together, a noise I’d made enough times myself.

I let my lips and tongue explore his shoulder and then moved down his body. I stroked and sucked on his nipples, baring my teeth a little just to remind him of all the times he had bitten mine, making him laugh. I made sure that he still felt the latex on him wherever possible, too, so that by the time my mouth had reached his belly button he was squirming and moaning almost constantly. I loved watching him pull against his bindings as he arched his back. He was starting to look desperate, which is exactly what I wanted. Also, it was rather a novelty for me. I smiled at him. I couldn’t help myself. I wondered if this kind of smugness was catching.

I got to the waistband of his jeans and slowly unfastened the buttons. He eagerly lifted his hips so I could pull his trousers down his legs. I also took the opportunity to remove his socks at the same time – they’re never a sexy look.

His erection was straining against his boxer shorts. I couldn’t resist and moved quickly, giving the material a quick lick, causing his whole body to shudder. I loved that he became so sensitive when teased like this.

I pulled his boxer shorts down and watched as his swollen cock sprang free, looking thicker than usual. It was tempting to put it in my mouth straight away but I had a plan to stick to.

I put my knees either side of his and smiled down at him once again. He actually looked almost sleepy as he stared back. His lips were dry and he kept licking them. If it were me in his position, I might have been begging him to touch me by now. He always did have more self-control. Of course, the difference was I didn’t mind if he didn’t beg.

I did touch him, but maybe not quite as he hoped. I gently ran my fingernails up his thigh, coming within centimetres of touching his cock and then moving away, scratching up his body and then back down again. The best thing about doing this was watching how his cock would twitch as I got close to it, as if it was involuntarily trying to get me to touch it. It made me wet – well, wetter – as I watched it and the look of concentration on his face as he moaned under his breath.

I smiled. ‘You’re purring.’

He shook his head. ‘Sweetheart, I don’t purr. It’s a low growl.’

I laughed. ‘Oh really? In that case I’ll keep going for a bit longer.’

The noise he made then was most definitely a growl.

I loved torturing him like this and kept it up for longer than I had planned, eventually leaning down and kissing his thighs and stomach, but carefully avoiding his cock at all times. I could see how wet his tip was and I was proud of myself for resisting. I’m not sure he felt the same way.

I got up and walked away from the bed. His moan of
disappointment made me chuckle. He was definitely getting desperate.

I walked to the bathroom for a moment and returned with another part of his surprise. I’d brought the bottle of champagne with me from home, but the ice bucket and glasses had been supplied by the hotel at my request. It all felt quite classy and decadent, if you ignored the slutty latex dress and his erection sticking up in the air.

I placed the bucket down on the bedside table and was relieved to find the bottle not too difficult to open. I gradually filled just one of the flutes and took a sip while he watched me, looking amused but a little confused too.

When I brought the glass to my lips for a second time I took more of a mouthful of the champagne. However, instead of swallowing, I held the cold, fizzing liquid in my mouth as I climbed back onto the bed and slipped my lips over his cock.

He cried out as I swirled the champagne round him with my tongue before moving up and down. He was back to muttering profanities at me in which the word ‘fuck’ featured prominently – it was all quite complimentary in a slightly aggressive way. I made eye contact with him and smiled as the liquid gradually warmed up and lost its fizz. I removed my mouth and swallowed before reaching for another mouthful and repeating the process.

Eventually, as my glass became emptier, I tipped it to his lips so he could have a sip too. I liked my way of drinking it better, though. Not for polite company, admittedly, but it worked for us.

I started to use my hands on his shaft and balls, massaging and teasing as I moved my tongue around him.
I shifted my position so that I was on my knees on the bed with my arse facing him. From this position I knew he’d be able to see up the latex dress. I was bare and – by this point – very wet underneath the dress. I blushed at the thought of his view but I knew he’d love it, even before he told me so and called me his dirty girl.

I quickened my pace and I heard his breath begin to get fast and shallow, which meant only one thing. It was time to stop.

I thought he might go mad from this level of teasing but I wanted to give him one more treat before I finally gave him relief. I moved up the bed and straddled his face so that he was staring straight up at my wetness.

He loved going down on me and one of his favourite positions to do this was for me to ride his face. I know, face-sitting is supposedly the mainstay of dominant women. Not with Adam. He said he didn’t really care if this wasn’t a particularly dominant way to do it, it got him off. He was never someone concerned by trying to maintain an air of superiority – which explained his stupid naked dances round the bedroom on a Saturday morning while serenading me with whatever song was playing on the radio. He knew that when the dynamic changed I would submit to him without question, and the rest of the time we could just be us.

Of course, he wasn’t going to get what he wanted that easily. I kept myself just inches away from his face and slowly rolled up the dress so I could spread my legs a little wider. I reached down and gently stroked my fingers up and down my lips. He loved watching me masturbate; usually I found it a bit embarrassing to do, but in this situation, teasing him in this way, I grinned as my face flushed.

He was able to be much more vocal than I would have been in that situation and started telling me how much he loved watching this and how much it turned him on. I pushed my fingers deep inside myself and moaned as I realised how desperate I was for relief too. I removed my hand and circled his lips, coating them in my wetness. He licked them eagerly and then sucked on my fingers hungrily.

I rubbed myself while he whispered filthy things to me, practically begging me to let him lick me. I held out as long as I could but eventually his offer was just too good to pass up, and I sank down onto his mouth.

Adam’s tongue was inside me within a second, pushing in deeper than I thought possible. He strained against the rope as he moved his head. He was desperately trying to taste and lick me, moaning as he did so. He removed his tongue for a second to flick it over my clit before returning to fucking me with it. We were both frantic. As I approached orgasm I lifted for a few seconds to let him take his biggest breath yet and then dropped down again, riding his face as he licked and sucked me, holding onto the headboard for support.

My whole body shook as I came and I lost myself for a moment, coming back to reality, breathing hard and having that awkward post-orgasmic moment of, ‘Ooops, have I squashed him?’ (surely the occupational hazard of face-sitting). Thankfully I hadn’t. I moved off Adam with shaky legs and lay down next to him, finding it hard to look at his face, which was soaking wet with my juices. It didn’t help that he was grinning from ear to ear.

I wrapped my arms round him and buried my face in
his neck, which not only felt wonderful for me post-orgasm (I often feel a little clingy in the immediate aftermath but Adam is good with the reassurance), but also meant he was feeling the latex against him once again. I looked down his body to see his toes curling beyond his throbbing cock. Poor boy. I’d have to do something about that in a minute, once I’d recovered.

It took a while, though, and I almost fell asleep in my post-orgasm bliss, until Adam cleared his throat loudly and raised his eyebrows at me as I looked up.

‘Something I can help you with?’ I smiled at him.

He let out a noise of exasperation and I mocked him a little more before finally relenting and moving down the bed. I sat up and straddled him once again, lowering myself down but deliberately trapping his cock against his stomach. He moaned as I moved my hips, sliding myself up and down his shaft without letting it slip inside. He finally whispered, ‘Please’, and I relented, lifting slightly and letting him slip inside me.

His groan of relief was so strong that I thought for a moment he had come straightaway. I honestly wouldn’t have blamed him – by this point I’d been teasing him for ages. Then he started moving his pelvis, trying to fuck me. I wasn’t done being in control just yet, though, so I pinned him to the bed. He stilled. We remained, unmoving, staring at each other, waiting to see what would happen next.

I smiled at him. ‘You have so much more self-control than me.’

He nodded. ‘Yep. But you’re kinder to me than I am to you.’

I nodded and then leaned down to kiss him. ‘It’s OK, though. It’s fun when you’re mean.’

He laughed. ‘I’ll remind you of that next time you’re glaring at me.’

Touché. Slowly I reached up and pulled the zip down on my dress, exposing my cleavage further, releasing my breasts. I leaned down and presented them to him, and he began to lick and suck hungrily. I pulled the zip down a little further to give him some more access and he took my nipples in his mouth in turn, flicking his tongue over them. I couldn’t resist any more and my hips began to move, up and down, backwards and forwards over his cock. He gasped and moaned into my chest as I fucked him, getting quicker and quicker.

He pulled his head free of my breasts and moaned, ‘Please can I come?’