Water's Wet Erotica (Seven Stories: Including Virgin to Vixen Series) (8 page)

I heard him
leave
, but I didn’t move. Half in shock that he had just up and left after his climax and my spanking, m
y hands still gripped the headboard
the same way
he had told me to.
I could hear my labored breathing in my own ears. A part of me was mortified.
Another part of me was angry that he had so much control over me that my hands still gripped the headboard
after he had gone
. Then there was that
eccentric
part
of me that was turned on
beyond belief
.

He had awakened something in me that I never knew was there. He had awakened in me the desire to
feel
his hand slam against my snow-white ass while I anticipated his next move.
He had once again succeeded in turning me on to the
point
that I needed him again. I wanted him to come back and release my pent-up desire for him. So, I stayed in that
position
on my bed, dripping from
excitement
, my lips swollen with high hopes.
Of course, he never returned, and I fell asleep.

In the morning when I woke, he had left me two flowers on my dresser.
That was a sure sign that he had been there the night before.
One
thing
was for sure
,
I didn’t
need
that sign.
I had five big hand prints on my butt, some of them overlapping. Also, m
y lips were cut from my teeth and swollen from the hard pounding he gave my face.
Imagine the story I had to tell my parents on that one.

Time passed and my mysterious lover had not reappeared in my bedroom, much to my frustration and hurt. My
brother
had asked me to go with him to the garment district in downtown Los Angeles.
I agreed in order to get out of the house, but I wasn’t anxious
to really go, even though it might be a fun outing
.
My
lover
had left me neglected for two weeks and three days. That was three days longer than the last time.

Every night, before bed, I had made sure my window was unlocked and slightly cracked.
For several nights, I
had
slept
entirely
nude. I hoped that he would
find
my pussy
irresistible
when he saw my body laying there.
He never crawled through my window.

On the fifth day of sleeping with my window unlocked, I wore a nightgown with no panties and hiked it up to expose the lower half of my body. I wondered how long he was going to make me wait for him, how long was he going to keep me a
longing
virgin, how long he was going to torment me. I was ready for him to
stuff
me with his long, hard cock. In reality, I was ready for him to break through the virginal layer of skin that reminded
me that I
was still a virgin. As I’d heard others say
,
I was ready for him to pop my cherry.

My wayward thoughts were jumbled in my mind as I walked past the hot dog vendor on the side of the road.
My brother looked for a pair of dress shoes, and I tagged along like a lost puppy.
I was physically there, but my mind was thinking about that night that my
lover
fucked my face. My thoughts were consumed with
that
night until I heard a sound that immediately pulled me back to reality:
h
is voice.

He was talking to a female cashier behind me. I closed my eyes and let the familiar sound of his voice tantalize my
body
in the store.
I felt my
pleasure
button
quiver
, my legs tremble, and my
body
tense up.
A surge
of wetness automatically secreted from my love nest to the cotton crotch of my panties.

I wanted to turn around and see who he was. I wanted to know who had been moving me to the point of ecstasy.
This was a crossroad
s
, and I
quickly
thought about the consequences if I did.
I didn’t care anymore.
We needed to even out the playing field, and I needed to have some of the upper hand
, even if it was only information about him
.
I needed to be on
the offense instead of the defense. I needed to
disorientate him in his own
element
.
My excitement grew with anticipation of seeing him.

I turned around to see
him
fifteen feet away with his back to me. His golden brown hair sat on the collar of his shirt. It was
wavy
with a messy look.
His shoulders were broad, and his back muscles stood out from his narrowed waist.
Even in the gray shirt he was wearing, I could see the
definition
in his body.

I watched the cashier flirt with her eyes and body language.
She was no more than twenty
-
five years old, and I wondered if she w
as
more than a cashier, maybe she was also his
lover
.
I felt a tinge of jealousy surge through my blood. I wanted to walk up and
demand
to know why he had not come back through my window to see me, but instead, I started to circle the store, hiding behind the racks of clothes in order to finally see his face.

My stomach was dancing with butterflies, and my heart was racing out of control. Just
when
I took the last few steps where I could see his profile, my
brother
grabbed my arm and pulled my attention from my lover.

“Let’s go. They don’t have what I want here.”

“Go ahead, I’ll catch up,” I said glancing over to make sure
he
was still standing there.

“I’m going home. Let’s go,” my
brother
demanded again.

“Let go of me. I’ll
walk
.”

“From downtown?
Whatever,” he said as he shook his head and started for the front door of the store.

I watched him for a second,
but
when I turned around, my
lover
was gone.
I felt my heartbeat frantically out of control.
Where was he? Where did he go?
This was my one chance to see who he was and somehow be a step ahead of him. My eyes searched each person in the store. Then, I heard him say
t
hank you
as he walked out the door.

My brother was holding the door for my lover. I ran past and between racks of clothing until I had reached the door. My eyes never left his back.
His legs were long, and his strides were
quick
.
He walked with
confidence
and
determination
. I walked cowardly behind him with a purpose. When he stopped, I stopped. When he moved, I moved. We walked for three miles until he made his way into an art gallery. I slid in the front door and behind a display wall in the labyrinth of the art gallery. I felt especially gutsy to follow him with such stealth.

I heard people
address
him as Mr.
Shelby. He nodded
kindly
but didn’t
indulge
any of the pretty women in the gallery. I was intrigued and anxious. I still hadn’t seen his face. The mix of curiosity and bravado took hold of me as I moved through the art gallery like a detective on a serious case.
I could tell that he was
someone
,
and he was a
man
in
charge
of his world.

Then he turned and faced me but seemed to look past me. Although he did not
see
me, I certainly saw him.
I sucked in
my breath when I
finally
saw
his
face.

I sat in a chair next to Red. I realized that I had just spent forty-five minutes telling her about the first time I
had been
touched and taught by Jake Shelby. Red’s eyes were still a beacon of light, and her overall demeanor was still anxious for me to continue with my story.

I silently snickered at the thought of my story enticing this girl. She was on her knees while being bent over a foam wedge on the table in front of me. I had to admit that every first moment I had experienced with Jake was an erotic moment. It somehow tantalized every physical sense and passion that I had.

Of course, I
had been
nineteen years old and my body was going through a whirlwind of continually changing emotions. I wasn’t yet comfortable with my body, and I certainly wasn’t comfortable with my innocence. I wanted to know everything about me. I wanted to know what I liked, wanted
,
and desired.

“So
,
his name was Mr. Shelby and he owned an art gallery?” Red asked.

“Uh
-
huh
.
” I barely heard Red’s voice while my mind tossed around those first days with Jake nearly three years ago.

“Okay, and? What happened next?” Red begged for details.

I stood up from my chair and circled around the table. My eyes took in every last detail of her fair, flawless skin. Her shoulders were soft to my touch. I ran my open hand over her shoulder blades and let my fingers linger at the small of her back.

It was her succulent, perfectly round ass that drew in my attention. Two dimples rested adjacent each other just before the crack of her ass started. I ran my hand over the plumpness of her perfect ass and let my hand linger on her left cheek.

I moved my body directly behind her. I could see her tight asshole just above the shimmery wetness of her pussy.
Her pussy lips
were perfectly shaped. Peeking out behind her puffy, snow
-
white lips was the little budding flower of her clitoris
,
that glorious piece of meat that contains a
nearly
infinite amount of nerve endings that bring a woman to sheer pleasure.

I ran my index finger down over her asshole and to the soft, warmness of her kitty. She flinched at the random touch of my fingers after I had spent nearly forty-five minutes neglecting her
while telling my story of how I became a dominatrix
. The change in the terrain of her sensual area was fantastic. The tiny, pinched hole of her ass was dry and closed tightly. Then my finger slid into the murky wetness of her swamp as I slid my finger from her slit to her clit.

I heard her moan. My touch was soft and gentle. I wasn’t even at that mental state where I wanted to turn her on. I was
merely
examining her. I was taking in the beauty of the female body and the way
that
I must have looked to Mr. Shelby during those times that he
absolutely
consumed me.

The appreciation of the human body was sometimes neglected by the quick act of sexual pent
-
up desire. Even in the imperfections of the human body
,
there was perfection. I marveled and delighted at the sight and smell that radiated from between her legs. I closed my eyes and let my fingers circle around her clitoris with a ceremonial pleasure that made me feel warm.

Sure, she needed to be disciplined. The act of the Dominatrix and Her submissive partner was to teach and share in the emotional gratification of letting go and letting someone else be your guid
e
.

Considering
that
Red came in and applied for a job as a Dominatrix with no experience as a submissive woman, I was given the challenge of taming her. She had to know the world of a submissive in order to be
come
an excellent Dominatrix. It was the art of taming and sharing such a bond that separated the good from the bad.

I heard her moan over and over as my finger circled her budding flower. She rested her body on the foam wedge under her stomach, and she spread her legs further
, to give me better access. It was very good that she opened herself wider to pleasure, or pain
. Red wanted that moment of explosion
that I could give her. She wanted to release her juices from within all over my hand.