The Unwritten Book : Breathe Easy - Chapter 7

“John! I am so very sorry for being late! Met an old acquaintance and simply had to stop to chat.” Helen hugged him whilst chattering away. She did feel bad for being late but it the aftershock of what just happened rippled through her body still.

John pulled her into a tight bearhug. “Dont be silly! Helen, meet Abdul. Abdul, meet Helen.” He released her from his embrace and turned to his left to introduce middle eastern looking gentleman.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Helen. Heard so much about you.” Abdul extended his hand.

“Oh my! I trust John only disclosed good things about me and omitted the unsavoury ones!” Helen laughed shaking his hand. “Pleasure to meet you too, I heard absolutely nothing about you though!” She innocently flirted.

“Well, I partly own the oil company, head office in the UK and I am in need of HRB partner. Ive been told you might fit the bill?” He raised his eyebrows. Helen blushed but continued to maintain eye contact. She knew Abdul wasn’t flirting with her but there was just something she could not put the finger on.

“Guys, shall we talk business inside the restaurant?” John interrupted.

“Of course! Please, I reserved a table at my one of the favourite places in Mayfair. “ Abdul motion them to start walking.

————

“John, I cant explain but I dont think I should accept the offer” she barely whispered so nobody could hear her in the office. Her assistant looked at her over the desk.

“Why, Helen? Is salary too low? I can talk to him if that is what is bothering you? I know you love your shoes, I can just tell him he will have to throw in a pair of new season BCBGs?” John laughed at the other end of the line.

Helen inhaled deeply. “No… see I feel.. I just, not sure. Honestly, I am not sure. Even Giuseppe Z’s might not change my mind.” Her inner voice was screaming at her to decline the offer but the damn brain was saying otherwise. The money were enough to pay for two mortgages and it was a big organisation that could potentially be an even bigger stepping stone for her to open her own consulting practice.

“Is it because of their alluded shady dealings? All major companies have skeletons in their closets. You could help them to clear at least few? Just take the role. It will elevate you into a different league, Helen. Dont miss this chance.” John passionately promoted the job offer. She certainly did not want to miss the opportunity and she should not be caring who thought what. It was her life and she needed to take charge of it.

“You are right, John. It is one in a lifetime opportunity and I should not let anything and anyone stop it.” Helen exhaled.

“Good girl. Now respond to him” John urged her. Helen blushed, pleasant yet confusing emotion washed over her. She was no longer used to be ‘good girl’.

“Alright alright Mr Bossy pants!” Helen laughed. John was never the one to boss people around. He could at times be tetchy and particular but never domineeringly bossy .

“Yes, look who’s talking! I will remember this jibe, Helen… i sure will” John lightheartedly threatened her.

“I have to go, John. It was a pleasure” She said loudly, making her assistant pay her another glance. “Bye!”

“Elle, can you please block first half of the day in my calendar tomorrow?” She requested.

“Anything exciting happening?” Her assistant enquired sheepishly. Helen’s eyes narrowed.

“Nothing in particular. Thanks.” Helen clipped back. She opened her personal emails, took a deep breath and started composing her acceptance message to Abdul.

——————

[you should come to our offices to meet the team and sign your contract] read Abduls message.

Helen was feeling stupidly nervous and jittery. It was an exciting opportunity but also ever so nerve wracking. She obviously knew that nothing should affect her or dictate her life choices but she just couldn’t help it!

She looked at the building across the street. The revolving doors truly represented feeling in her stomach. Her heart started to beat furiously. She could feel it thumping in her throat and she could swear vomited a little into her mouth. Stop stop stop … *Mayfair and your life isn’t his property. You are allowed to be here just as much as the devil does.* Helen chanted to herself.

She was suppose to be meeting Abdul and the team ten minutes ago but she simply couldn’t cross the street and enter the building. She even thought of running away and declining the generous job offer. *I cant do this.. fuck* her heart rate dropped. *Yes, you can. Just think of what you could achieve? On that particular thought she straightened her back and crossed the road deciding to make success of anything that will be thrown her way!

Shaky legs in four inch stilettos carried her towards security desk and then an elevator. Building was painfully familiar.

“Hold the door! please!” Male voice made her jolt. French accent?

“Uh… sure” she responded startled. With trembling fingers she reached towards “open” button, mindlessly pressed it several times.

“Thank you!” young and rather handsome man stepped into an elevator and filled the space with his wide suited frame. Helen quietly appraised him. “Which floor?” He asked politely, positioning on to her left.

“Second floor, please.” she said shyly glancing at him and then back at her feet.

“Let me guess - interview or a life changing meeting?” The young frenchman enquired. He reached over her to press the second floor button. Whiff of Dior Sauvage caressed her nostrils.

“Most likely the latter…” Helen smiled at him.

“Well, then there is no need to look like you are about to be guillotined” he chuckled. Helen laughed out loud in return.

“Good advise!” She winked at him.

“Not an advise, just a suggestion. If I advised you, I would expect you to follow my advise and to be honest you look like a challenger” he raised his right eyebrow at her.

She blushed furiously unable to find a coherent comeback. “Oh dear! It depends..” Helen rolled her eyes, pretending to be completely outraged by his assumption.

“On what, may I ask?” He pressed playfully. The lift stopped to a halt and pinged announcing the damned second floor.

Helen winked at him while stepping through the elevator door. “Well…now you will never know..” the doors closed before he could answer back.

Helen smirked to herself. The unexpected encounter parted the dark clouds a little and lifted her mood. Power of flirting she thought to herself.

She looked around. The reception was still behind the glass door. *Nothing has changed* she thought to herself.

Helen smoothed lapels of her coat and walked towards the reception.

Brunette receptionist raised her head from the computer screen and greeted Helen with a rather fake looking smile. “Good morning. How can I help?”. She was absolutely stunning, her light grey green eyes perfectly complemented her long brown hair and pink lips.

“I am here to see Abdul.” Helen offered, leaning towards the counter, lightly tapping her dainty fingers on to the surface. It felt cool, cold and somewhat impersonal.

“Please sign in here. Can I also take your name ?” Receptionist pointed to the book on her left.

“Helen Hewitt. I am actually a little late” Helen muttered scribbling her name onto an elegant piece of paper.

“Not to worry, I am sure he will not mind. I hope you dont mind me saying but have we met? You seem somewhat familiar” Helen directed her attention to the receptionist. Her heart skipped a beat. Again. And again.

“Umm, not quite sure… I have been here once or twice, maybe thats it?” Helen offered. Whilst she wasn’t sure whether she had met this particular girl, it was really odd for someone to remember her after such a long time.

“Maybe, but its …” the door swished again startling both of them. Familiar Bvlgari scent filled the reception area.

Helen attempted to swallow massive lump stuck in her throat.

“Hello Mr. Johnson, how are you this fine morning? Would you like your *regular*?” the receptionist directed all her attention to the man standing behind Helen. This girl sounded completely and utterly infatuated with the man. *I bet he fucked her* Helen suddenly thought to herself. It was ever so tempting to turn around to see the object of the receptionists affection but she didn’t want to interrupt their *regular* morning chat. Instead, Helen decided to swiftly move towards the sofa in a seating area. Her back was still turned to them and so Helen was hopeful that somehow she will be able to avoid the encounter by shuffling away.

“Good morning Zoe, thank you but not today. Not feeling like having it at the moment. Any calls I should be aware of?” He responded in a clipped voice which sounded like a command to Helen. Pig.

“As a matter of fact no, however I am here if you need me. Anything. Just let me know” girl shamelessly flirted with him. Helen sat on the sofa, her feet crossed at the ankles, hands folded neatly on her lap. For a brief second, she imagined how Zoe was leaning towards Mr Johnson, exposing her small but perky breasts through a little cleavage that extra unbuttoned button allowed. She imagined how he appraised her quietly, focusing on Zoes lips, then her breasts, making girls nipples harden under his stare.

“Thats very kind, Zoe. I will keep that in mind. Did Abduls new caprice arrived yet?” His question halted Helens fantasy making her swear under the breath. *Fuuuck. Thats it. Show time..* Helen mumbled to herself.

“Yes, Ms Hewitt is here.” The receptionist must have pointed at Helen as she suddenly heard him moving towards her. Helen continued to maintain stillness, focusing her gaze onto a magazine laid on the coffee table. Something about oil prices? Riveting.

The steps got closer and when they finally stopped, her heart did too.

“Ms Hewitt, what a plea…” he stopped mid sentence, his breath hitching a little. Helen gather all the strength she had and looked up at him. He was dressed in an impeccable three-piece navy blue suit and matching tie. His beautiful eyes met hers and for a split second, she was reminded how utterly gorgeous and captivating he was.

“Good morning. But did you mean to say “the caprice”?” She had no choice but to attempt to control the situation otherwise she would have ended up running away.

His jaw clenched ever so tightly and Helen could now see big vein pulsating hard on the side of his forehead. She could swear, if receptionist was not present he would have probably dragged her out of the building by her hair.

What an image that was!

Helen’s heart nearly fell out of her chest, but she decided not to get up. This way she felt she had more power now over the towering devil.

“What do you think you are doing now?” He spat out through the clenched teeth. Just loud enough for Helen to hear but not the receptionist.

“Mr. Johnson, it has been over two years since we were acquainted. I believe it should be a very good time for you to get over it.” Helen maintained her poise. He stared at her giving her that familiar unpleased look he used to give her from time to time when she misbehaved.

“What sort of a sick game are you playing? Why are you stalking me?” He narrowed his eyes at her.

“I am moving on with my life and career. You think too highly of yourself. Your existence didn’t even pass my thoughts when considering my career options.” Helen rolled her eyes.

His full lips pressed into an angry flat line. “You can get up and go, you will not work here” he threatened. Even with vein threatening to to burst on his forehead, his was face still impossibly perfect and flawless.

“I am afraid this is not up to you, Mr Johnson. I would suggest leaving me alone and getting some work done. ” The rebel was awakened inside of her. How dare he think he could dictate what she should be doing!

Helen continued to maintain the eye contact although this seemed to have aggravated the situation to the point of no return. His strong, masculine hand suddenly gripped her upper arm.

“I would suggest to leave. NOW” his grip was awfully painful making Helen grimace.

“I would suggest you let me go” she raised her voice.

As on cue the main office door opened and Abdul appeared.

“Helen! Tom! I see you guys already met.” He subtly observed the hand/arm situation but made no comment about it. “Do you know each other?”

“No, not quite. I was just about to show Mrs Hewitt the way into the office.” Tom responded slowly unclenching his fingers. Abdul didn’t look convinced, but he smiled.

It hurt but somehow the situation made Helen aroused in a convoluted kind of way.

“Its Miss actually.” Helen offered both of them a fake smile. Toms fingers have now fully released her arm but for some reason she missed his touch. ‘What a strange girl you are..’

“Well, that is even more wonderful! No husband to dictate schedule. Boyfriend perhaps?” Abdul sweetly smiled.

“Nothing wrong with a bit of discipline from a man.” Helen winked at Abdul. It was outrageous flirting but situation required it. “I must disappoint again, no boyfriend.”

“Our Head of global might just be what you need!” Abdul returned her wink and motioned her towards the main office. “Come, lets show you around the main office. Your workstation is not set up yet so you may need to share.”

Helen tried to avert her gaze from Tom bit she just couldn’t do it. “I have never had a problem with sharing…au contraire.“ He looked like to had managed to contain his anger, but her remark slightly put him off balance again.

His lips briefly curved up into a smile, but he didn’t let it remain. “We all have our faults, Miss Hewitt. ” Tom sarcastically offered.

“Stones and glass houses, Mr Johnson, ” she rolled her eyes disapprovingly at him. His comment somehow upset Helen.

Tom adjusted his tie. “Abdul, Miss Hewitt, I must bid you a pleasant day, I am only in to collect legal contract paperwork. Will be working from home office today,” Toms announcement was disappointing, Helen hoped for more sparring. His presence, even hatred filled, soothed her. It was an odd one - bag of emotions and none of them pleasant enough to make her feel at ease. The matter of fact was that she was in the deep end. She was not about to drown so she had to learn to suck it up and not allow the situation affect her too too much. ‘Easier said than done!’

“Fair enough,” Abdul agreed. “We shall see you tomorrow at the morning meeting. I will position Helen in your office until further notice,” Abdul cleared his throat observing both of them. Helen shrank a little. She certainly did not want to impose on Thomas personal space. Plus from her memory, his office was a rather small space.

“Sure, albeit no issues from my side. Excuse me.” Tom offered smoothly overtaking them and walking towards what looked like a cackle of PAs.

“Helen? Shall we start the tour?” Abdul offered.

Helen smiled at him distractedly. “Yes, please,” but continued to follow Tom’s disappearing figure in her peripheral vision.

Me: It’s date night!!!

My man: Mmhmm. You’ll get food and company. Then you’ll be face down, biting your pillow and showing me what an obedient little whore you are. Should be a nice night.

Me: f u c k

Tease me until I’m brain dead… and then tease me some more.

Those gentle little touches.

When he kisses you and his hand rests on your throat. He’s not firm with you, he’s barely making contact with your skin.

The way he gently plays with your hair. Taking strands in his hand, tucking it behind your ear.

His fingers tracing little circles on your inner thighs. Never close enough.

It’s the tease.

His controlled patience. Forcing you to admit that you need it.

Admit that you’re desperate for his hand to wrap around your throat. Admit that you hope he will pull your hair sharply and without warning. Admit that you want your body claimed by his hands.

Admit that you need to be powerless with him.

And he’ll wait until you confess your every desire to him.

His hints of what’s to come, but only if you beg.

It’s been a week since L and I started a new accountability exercise together. In response to my starting to crave a return to D/s and recent lack of focus throughout the day + L’s desire to strengthen the communication between us, we came up with a plan to address both.

We created a task log that has daily activities for me - some chores, some for pleasure. Things like tidying the house, journaling, exercising, adhering to bedtime, etc. Each evening L and I make time to talk through my activities and he checks off each accomplished area.

Why it’s working for us:

• I’m usually really motivated and proactive and don’t need a granular system like this to get shit done. But it’s okay to realize you need help sometimes and it’s also okay to ask for that help. I’ve been so much more focused for the last week, and my overall happiness has increased with my mind and body being more engaged in my day.
• It’s a small step into D/s, but absolutely a step nonetheless. L is the only one who can check off tasks, and he is in a position of power to hold me accountable. I answer to him. We can gauge my emotional responses to the dynamic and increase the intensity of the power exchange gradually over time - if it feels right for both of us.
• Our system creates a space for “check ins” every evening. There is less focus on tasks being complete, but rather how we are doing, how the day treated us. If I don’t workout because my anxiety was crippling, L won’t punish me - but he won’t know what I’m going through unless we check in. We wanted to emphasize our communication and intentionally prioritize conversations rather than the task itself. And of course, I’m aware that there are consequences if I’m slacking and our conversation reveals no true justification. Also, L doesn’t have tasks obviously (lol), but when we have dedicated time to connect, I am also able to check in with him!
• It’s sort of fun… starting with the small things again. L is my best friend, partner, and boyfriend. I know him better than anyone. But we’ve grown a lot in the last couple years, and I’m sure our dynamic will shift from what it was when we first started playing together. This feels like the opportunity to slowly rediscover each other. I’m getting butterflies, and it’s just daily tasks!!!! We love some every day flirty fun!
• Personally, I’m finding joy in the little things and feeling good about my daily accomplishments - while also strengthening my relationship with L. Win/win tbh.

Many of you know that I’m a bit of a “pain wimp baby.” In other words, I have a low pain tolerance. Pathetically low.

I tap out of pain play quick. That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy pain. I actually really love being taken to the edge of my pain tolerance and challenging myself to endure – it’s just that my tolerance is usually excessively less than almost absolutely everyone. 

L is a bit of a sadist. When I first learned that, boy, was I fucking CONCERNED. My dream man had found me and, in that realization, I felt that I wasn’t going to be good enough for him. I immediately knew that he wouldn’t be able to do the same impact play with me that he enjoyed with past partners. I also knew that no matter how much I was crushing on him, I had to respect myself and set my limits - and accept that we may not be a good match. That he may not choose to explore a relationship with me, and that was okay. That we’re all entitled to find a partner that fits our needs and desires. 

I remember that conversation and holding my breath when I told him that I might not be the right fit for him. I remember him sitting on my words for a moment, thinking. Me filling the silence, babbling about how it was fine if he left, I understood, no big deal, no harm done, totally fine - I’M FINE. 

I remember him gently shushing me, laughing at how I aggressively tried to give him an out. 

Then he explained. 

Finding pleasure in hurting me isn’t about the force behind his impact or out-performing the last spanking session he gave to another partner. It isn’t about any measurable unit of force or pain. 

L told me that what mattered most to him was my willingness to endure the discomfort for him. He may not be able to flog me as hard or as long as others, but he knows that when I submit to the pain, I am in full surrender. Trusting him to take me just far enough, but never too far. My submission gives him the power to hurt me, and I revel in the pain because I know it’s part of how he adores me. 

In the months we’ve been together, L has never made me feel pressured to accept more pain than I can handle. He only asks that I challenge myself to suffer to my limit for him. Give him everything that I can. So, I do.

And I am enough. 

“I am indeed over 40, dear lady. Do you prefer your gentlemen younger, same age, or older than you? I will confess, you had me intrigued at “curvy, tall, natural redhead, silvering, and easily stimulated.” I have enjoyed your captions on images and look forward to digging further back to learn more of this sensual creature you are lovely.”

Your flattery is not unwelcome, thank you. (Who doesn’t like a compliment now and then?)
And, you have good taste in Tumblrs to follow if you are one of mine. (Shameless self-love.)

The current gentleman is a couple years older, and He feels quite good. I do not say “my” current gentleman as He technically is not “mine”, and saying “my” or “mine” feels tabu (and possessive). W/we have gently gone back and forth on this point but ever-the-lawyer’s-daughter, I love technicalities, and call them out, tactfully. I also have a superstition similar to having a name tattooed on your skin: it’s bad luck. Labeling Him “mine” when he is not mine, to me, might tempt the Gods to say, “Sorry honey, that’s not gonna happen.” I could not live with myself if that happened. As for age… I have had younger men in this decade, as young as 27. One was like an untrained hunting dog: great potential, enthusiastic abilities but no idea how to use any of them, or in what order or strength. This may sound unladylike and cold: he was fun but clueless when it came to seduction, female sex, and slow-burn pleasuring. I sent him home before breakfast but after coffee, and long before my real-life responsibility arrived from their weekend with the other parent. I do not want to be someone’s leader, though I’ve been complimented on my teaching skills. Current Gentleman is helping me see I need to be lead by an intelligent, confident, strong, masculine male. Not a hard ass but an Alpha Hetero Male. Hunting Dog was male but not a leader at all. Current Gentleman is a natural teacher; He invites me to explore submission; rather, He is unlocking a lot of things I have denied my whole life. It is an unexpected gift, this exploration. And, I am glad it is Him.

A few years ago, I was with an older man. Older by about seven years. He had quite a talent for seduction, big hand/great touch, excellent kisser. Drove an old red Suburban I nicknamed ‘The Shuttle’ because pieces of it would fall off in my driveway. A transplanted mid-westerner whose luck fell somewhere between “none” and “scratch-off”, he was a mediocre cook (though he called himself a chef. He was not a chef) who painted (houses, barns, etc.). When he wasn’t liquid and emotional on cheap red wine, I felt safe.

My favorite date was in the beginning; our sixth or seventh, in the middle of an ocean beach parking lot (which he did not like at all), about this time of year. He picked me up on a Sunday after I’d gone to church. The plan was to have a picnic in his ‘burban, at the beach. But that wasn’t my plan. I wanted to fool around in daylight; up to then, we’d made out a few times, petted, but nothing below the belt. Nothing. I do not make the first move…but that Sunday I was feeling too randy to wait for him to stop being nice. It took gently climbing onto and straddling him, bare bottomed in a skirt and unbuttoned sweater, for him to finally understand exactly what I wanted for lunch and *then* he gave in.

He was stubborn when it came to sex. I always felt pushy — but he never said no. Always stalled taking his pants off. Always wanted to make me cum first. Never understood that I like being made to wait; he had no sense of play in the bedroom at all. The way he sucked in his breath the first time I took him into my mouth that afternoon was such a rush. He was very quiet after I finished, asking if I could do it again, soon, please. Later, he told me he had no idea other women had been doing it ‘wrong.’ (Really? There’s a wrong way? Poor him.)

We were engaged, briefly, for about two months. The wine consumption killed it for me. That, and I wanted more, an equal, a friend, a mutual, playful lover, a partner. We were not “evenly yolked”, as the Bible calls it.

Then, it all hit me and, tired of wrong choices, I took a break. About two years. I was done with men and seeking someone spiritually, mentally, socially, and please, God, sexually compatible because that person was not on the planet. I’d been married a dozen years earlier, a bright, feisty girl in a sexless marriage, long before any of these dalliances transpired. Once every three or four months (or less). Not kidding. I was pretty, smart, present, affectionate, capable and completely miserable. Eight years of that, and I left. Lack of sex was the least reason. But after the older man, I shut down and was done.

Current Man and I somehow stumbled across each other and the rest unfolds as I write.
It is more than a year but not two. It’s interesting, really strange but good, fun, challenging because it is also long distance (same continent, long drive; single parents on single parent budgets). I was not looking nor was I expecting anything. Me and The Universe had a couple teary conversations and after that, I gave my troubles away, like letting go a balloon and didn’t look back. He was looking, His personal ad is probably still on the dating site, but we did not meet that way. Facebook. High School. And that is where I will leave you, this fine Monday morning.

Agent 355

Part 2: Going to London

As I step outside I lift my face to the sun, breathing in the fresh air, my chest fills with air and I exhale.

I am in heaven. I have finally made it to London.

The flat I rented for the past two weeks is superb, minus this pesky side door - for some reason I can’t lock it, oh well, no one notices me leave it open, it’s hidden behind shrubs anyway, and besides I am in London!

Weeee - Twirling around like a schoolgirl in my new sundress, I am giddy with excitement, I can almost skip. I love my new purchases, so many sundresses, all flowy and freeing, smiling to myself because I purchased this one and the five others, because they accentuate my curves, I feel sexy and exotic and I don’t need to wear a bra as they hug me in all the right places.

Giggling as the wind brushes across my nipples and they grow hard as if responding to my thoughts. That’s the only thing this dress does not conceal when I am turned on and London turns me on.

Walking around the square, I go about my morning routine, a morning coffee, and decadent buttery treat, exploring the shops, seeing where the day takes me. I’ve loved my adventures around town, walking and admiring the beauty, the architecture, I will never tire of it. Marveling at the simple thought that I am finally in London.

I can’t believe I have been here for almost three weeks. I love that I have no return ticket home, just adds to the adventure of it all.

Savoring my flaky crescent and coffee, I walk along the shops admiring the unique treasures inside, that is when I see him; he is magnificent, pure beauty. Putting the saying “tall, dark and handsome” to shame. He seems to be looking my way but he can’t be, can he? No, as my body is facing away, my ass turned to him. I feel as if I am gawking but he can’t see that I am staring back at the glass reflection.

I can barely move. He is so stunning.

Breathe, he is just a man. Oh but what an exquisite man, he is sitting but I can tell he is tall, lean, muscular, delicious. I would like to treat myself to him. Can he see that I just wiped my mouth? I’m literally drooling.

Control yourself. Try to regain your composure and flaunt what assets you know you have, maybe he will sit up and take notice. Sashaying to the next shop, peering in the window, purposefully sticking my hips and ass out towards him. Presenting myself as an animal would.

“Come mount me” I think and giggle out loud. I can’t stop staring at him and I am excited to see that he still seems to be looking my way. I feel naked, exposed, my nipples react to his gaze, it is so intense, is he staring at me?

Moving along, acting as if I have no care in the world but feeling his breath on my nipples from ten feet away.

What this man does to me, I don’t dare turn to look him in the eyes, surely if he is staring at me he will come to say hello. So he must not be staring at me as he seems fixated on something, in a trance almost.

We continue our dance most of the morning, into the afternoon. Finally dusk falls and I am so exhausted.

My mind has been thoroughly fucked by my imagination of him taking me on every street corner, alleyway, shop, restroom, etc. He imprinted on my brain and I can’t shake him.

At some point, while I was in a shop he left and I was devastated, but the memory of his beauty stayed with me the rest of the day. I felt his presence yet did not see him. But my mind did.

We had lunch together, went into stores, had long conversations, the mind can play cruel tricks on you but this was delicious as in between every normal event he was bending me over the bridge railing fucking me as passerby’s looked on. He was pulling me in a dark alley corner and devouring my nipples with his mouth. He was sliding two fingers inside my dripping pussy while we made every attempt to remain discrete at the restaurant. I was thoroughly fucked or manhandled by him everywhere I went and I was weak in the knees and my pussy had completely drenched my underwear. It was dark when I finally arrived back home, letting myself in, I grab a glass of water and head straight to my bedroom, I have no other plans but to fantasize about that mystery man. He mind fucked me all day and I needed to be filled immediately.

Leaving all the lights off, I strip naked, like we are rushing to the bedroom. It’s a very quiet night, calm is in the air, but I can hear myself panting. Needing to this release. Stripping off my sundress, I am feeling exotic so I go to the dresser and pull out a sexy black see-through negligee, it feels erotic on my skin, adding to the anticipation. I run a brush through my hair, run some chapstick over my lips, dab on some y-lang y-lang oil, as I love smell myself and climb into bed. I laugh that I am preparing myself for a night of passion…with myself. But no it is a night of passion with Mr. Beautiful. The man who haunts me.

Laying on my back, legs stretched out in front of me, relishing in the comfort of the bed and feeling my body buzz in anticipation. Reaching in my side drawer, I wrap my hand around my vibrator, like it is his cock, and lay it between my breasts. The window is open and I can hear the traffic drive by, the breeze hardens my nipples, or is it the knowledge that I am presenting myself. Ready. My breathing labored, I slowly run the vibrator cock head over each nipple. My body arches in reaction. Closing my eyes I imagine he is standing there, in the doorway, watching me. Slowly moving the vibrator between my breasts, over each erect nipple, down over my belly, teasing my belly button, down further until it circles my clit, teasing, coaxing, adding fuel to an already ignited fire. Continuing further I thrust the vibrator deep inside me, one firm thrust, FUCK YES, I am so wet that I did not need to go slow to adjust or stretch, my pussy needed a cock to be deep inside her ASAP. I begin a constant in-and-out building, milking the vibrating cock that fills me with one hand, the other massaging, pinching and teasing my nipples. God, I am so wet, juicy even, I can feel my juices run between my ass cheeks, dripping is an understatement. What that man did to me. I just wanted him to approach me and devour me. My pace has quickened, I need to cum, with every thrust I am closer, I am so wet. The sounds of me fucking myself are intoxicating. I am putting a trance on myself. The air smells like sex and essential oils. I feel my body build until its breaking point. Waves of pleasure wash over me. Moaning loudly, a grown and howl. Holding the vibrator in place as my body bucks in reaction, waves of pleasure running over my body.

Sedated and satisfied. Turning off my vibrator I lay there in bliss. Smiling as I thank him for the orgasm, I roll to my left side, my body still buzzing. After my breathing gets under control I permit sleep to take over…

Deep in sleep, I feel my legs being parted and what feels like a cock sliding inside me. This must be a dream.

Alarm hits, WAIT, this is not a dream!

WHAT THE FUCK, startled as I am filled completely. Fully awake now, scared but oddly at ease, as the sensations my body is feeling is responding. Defying my fear, with pleasure. A forearm drapes across my shoulder blades and although I am pinned, I am in pure bliss by the motions of what I can only assume is a man’s cock entering me. The weight of his body feels overpowering but gentle. My body betrays me and a moan escapes my mouth.

“I won’t hurt you, I needed this”, The man whispers in my ear as almost a plea, considering the situation, such an odd thing to say yet so soothing, I try to shift so he will release me but it only makes him enter me deeper, with every thrust my resistance breaks and I need more, it feels like an eternity that his cock seduces me, nothing about this feels wrong, but it is, my body continues to betray me as my ass and hips begin to meet his thrust, milking his cock, needing him deeper, opening for him. FUCK this feels incredible. An actual cock instead of a vibrator, and whoever this man is has a magnificent cock, it fills every inch of me, I can feel the tip hit the top of my vaginal ceiling. No one has ever done that.

Our rhythm is in sync now, we are fucking each other. I WANT MORE. I NEED MORE. I feel his thumb play with my ass hole and I almost cum, fuck! We are fluid, moving so fast and with each thrust deeper I am losing control. I want to let him control me, I want to give myself to him. Submit to the pleasure he brings me. He can feel my need and he asks me to prop myself up on my elbows, I obey as I am told. FUCK I am letting this stranger fuck me like he is my Master. As if to respond to my question, he squeezes my breasts, one and then the other, his touch is so caring, needing. Yet in control and powerful. So many contradictions my mind is being fucked too. I want to give my release to him. I want to cum for him. Our breathing is in sync, his breath on my ear is undoing, my pussy starts contracting, milking his cock for more, his thrusts go deeper and I lose myself, I let out a deep low moan and cum all over his cock. He doesn’t stop though and once again my body responds, the slow build up growing with every thrust of his cock. I can hear my wetness on his balls and thighs.

FUCK This is incredible. He is incredible, and I trust he isn’t here to hurt me. WOW. Who is this man? My body is in heaven, cloud 9, overwhelmed with sensations.

Sadly he moves and removes his cock from inside me, I actually whimper but the next thing I know it’s thrust into my mouth and he is fucking my throat. FUCK YES! He grabs the back of my hair and is relentless, not caring if I gag or not, my mouth is his fuck hole. I can’t help but moan on his cock. I can tell this is affecting him to his core. It pleases me that I affect him. I love cock and his is particularly magnificent. I desire to let him use me whenever he needs as his fuck-toy, as this cock is divine. I feel dirty and I love it.

As if he heard my thoughts he asks me, “You love cock, don’t you, you dirty little slut.” and all I can do is nod, staring into his dark eyes. FUCK he is beautiful even with a balaclava covering his face. His pace slows as if to ease any worries I may have as if to ask me to trust that he won’t hurt me. Trying to reassure myself I begin to caress my tits, my nipples betray me and harden, how could they not, I was just thoroughly fucked and now my mouth is being assaulted, my two favorite holes being fucked. He has awakened the beast in me and I want more.

This man is honouring who I am to my core and I have no clue who he is but a magnificent cock and he’s letting me be used by him.

As if reading my mind that my pleasure is not for me, it is for him, he stops his assault on my mouth and I whimper silently. What will happen next? OH FUCK Why did I ask that, in one motion he pushed me on my back and his mouth of on me. Like a wolf who just found fresh meat. Feeding on my pussy, lapping up from arse to clit, like I am a plate to lick clean. I want to dig my hands in his hair and hold him there for life. I can’t do that but again my body betrays me and I wrap my legs around his head, pushing his face into my pussy. I can feel his hands on my hips like he is holding his serving platter as he devours his meal.

GOD, please never stop what you’re doing. My body needs this man’s mouth, cock, and everything that goes with it.

I feel his hand pull at something and I realize he is going to reveal himself to me. Such a bold move. He is trusting me. And as he removes his balaclava I gasp! “OH, IT’S YOU!!”

HOLY FUCK I say to myself. The man in the town square. The man I have lusted and fantasized about all day. The one I came for earlier. Imagining he was standing in the door jam, watching me masturbate. Wait was he there the entire time? OH MY!

He doesn’t even acknowledge my comment and continues his assault on my pussy, like a man eating his last meal. And then he inserts two fingers, gently, which is shocking to me considering the fact that I do not know this man, but I do know him, he has been in my fantasies all day, we’ve had conversations, we’ve explored, we’ve fucked, we’ve tasted, we’ve eaten each other. His fingers are screwing me now, FUCK, like a corkscrew motion, clockwise to counter-clockwise. My pussy begins to milk his fingers, I can not deny him, I must cum, I need to cum again, please let me cum, I want to beg him and it’s like he knows as his ravenous licking stops and his fingers continue to fuck me and he replaces his tongue on my clit with his other hand to rub the swollen bead in a circular motion. His fingers begin to rub all around inside my pussy walls, seeking, enticing, claiming the pussy as theirs.

I blurt out “I’m Cumming” and he does not stop, as my orgasm washes over me. Creaming his hand. As he removes his fingers from my pussy, my breathing is labored and I can’t help but stare into those dark eyes, they are beautiful and ominous, how is he completely in control after I just lost all control. He gifts me with the taste of my orgasm, running his fingers inside my mouth, I love licking my own fingers clean after I cum, but to lick his, makes my cum taste incredible. Tasting him, his cock, and my cum, God help me I could become addicted to this man’s flavor. I can’t get enough as I lick it all off. I feel him move down to lick my ass where the rest of my orgasm has drained to completely back up to my clit and another moan escapes my lips. I can feel that this pushes him over the edge. Panting I watch as he raises himself up and grabs my erect nipples, pulling at them to spread them apart, he places his cock between my breasts and begins to tittie fuck me. GOD does this man know my weaknesses. His motions are slow and sensual as to again soothe and reassure me that I am to trust him. Gliding up and down, in between my tits, I can’t help I need to taste him, so I tuck my chin into my chest and lower my mouth onto the tip of his cock on the upstroke. God, what a magnificent cock it is. Who is this man! He continues like this, slowly gliding, using my body for his pleasure. Claiming me as his fucktoy. He slowly pulls away from me and I know what is about to happen, laying me back on the bed, he pats my thighs, lines up his shaft with my pussy, and slides deep inside me. Zero resistance, his cock belongs there. He places his hands behind my knees and begins to thrust slow and deep inside me. FUCK this is incredible. I have never been fucked like this. My pussy is made for his length and girth, so thick, such a pleasing cock. I can tell there is a change in his demeanor as if he trusts and is confident. Good, I want him to feel this way and he rewards me with filth, claiming me as his, calling me names that to me equal titles, words of affirmation in the nasty of ways. “His” dirty little slut, “His” fucktoy, “His” property, “His” pet. “His” Cunt. Claiming me with every disgusting title. How does this man know what I need?

He is fucking me now with an animalistic frenzy, we can not get enough of each other. I cum again and I can tell that is the end of him, and he pulls free of now “HIS” pussy and begins to stroke his cock and shoots his beautiful load all over my tits and my face. I open my mouth to receive his gift. When he is done emptying every last drop he has in his balls. I can’t help it but I am smiling. As he removes himself from my body, I don’t want him to go so I scoop up the cum he gifted me and lick it off my fingers. God, he even tastes divine.

“You know I could have you arrested for this?” I say licking my fingers clean with a smile on my face and humor in my voice.

“I know, but it was something I just had to do.” I smile to assure him that I would never ruin what just transpired with silly justice. And then he did something unexpected, he leans forward and gives me a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue tracing all around my mouth as to taste himself on me. And like a schoolboy discovering tits, he reaches down and cops a quick feel like he won’t ever get to touch boobs again. And slaps them like a spanking.

“I know you won’t.” He plants one last kiss and somehow he is fully dressed, says Goodbye and that he’ll see me around.

I can only respond with three words. “Thank you, Sir.”

{Read Part 3 Here}

{Part 1: Is not for me to post}

Hard Limit Pusher

Should there really be any hard limits in a relationship? If you TRULY TRUST. Then wouldn’t you trust that he/she will know what you need? What you want? And isn’t it the role of your partner, male and female to push your hard limits, not aggressively or with intent but with purpose? Is it not the dynamic to get out of your comfort zone and see how uncomfortable you can get?

To live life on edge?

Speaking of edging…. Mmmmm

Master has tasked me with edging for five minutes every hour today, I know there is a lesson to be had, there always is. Over the past few days since I returned to him, needy and wanting, understanding the last lesson that I did not need answers to return, I needed to get out of my own way and trust he knows what is best for me. I have been learning so much. He truly is a Master. He fascinates me. How one human can be so in control of what his purpose is but missing the mark on other things. But I know he is the Master of his own self and it is not my role to push him, he does not permit me to do that. I know and accept what my role is with him. I know my purpose is to serve his needs. He is free to use my body whenever he wants. I no longer need him to receive and feel love because I love myself. What I need is to be taught a lesson. To continue to learn about my submission and my purpose to serve. And holy crap does this man teach me: not in the school girl being punished way you kinky fucks are thinking. (Although I am sure I would look cute in that getup) however I am all woman, goddess, alpha to my core, sadly dominant in my past relationships, it’s why men have been who they have been with me in the past. I learned and accepted that about who I used to be on day two of returning to London. But he has always known I am submissive, as are all women if they get out of their own way, they push past the uncomfortable zone of lacking trust, feeling unworthy, …

Hold please time to edge… and the alarm says “LUNCH”… so that is my fantasy…

Laying on the couch, legs hanging over the side, your mouth on my Crown Jewels, feeding on your pussy. Lapping up your juices, like it’s a ripe peach, messy and sticky, dripping down between my ass crack, covering your face, suckling on your clit, teasing and torturing me with that magnificent mouth of yours. Your strong arms wrapped around my thighs pinning me in place as I squirm and try to grind on your face. Purely teasing me as I know you’ll stop in 5…4…3… 2…1….

Fuck I love edging….

THE DYNAMIC

The dynamic is as old as time. It began with Adam & Eve.

Do not mistake Dominance & Submission for some sexual kink act. You will be sorely disappointed. I am sure many will appease your temptress ways, if you think your kinky desires will sustain you are mistaken. Without understanding and accepting of your true calling as a woman, your relationship will not withstand the storm of life. True submission is to accept who you are, what you were created for, your purpose and where you are going. The when and why and how are the mystery.

I am a woman, created to submit to my God in the universe and my Master, a man on earth. We are equals. I know my role in my life and in his. He gave me his rib upon creation and I let him feed upon my apple. Together we can create life, love and true happiness. As a spiritual divine union.

We have one need. LOVE. That is the only need in life, for to truly Love yourself, you are healthy mind, body, soul and spirit. And if you love yourself, only then can you love another, trusting that he will be there by your side as long as it is Gods will. And once you surrender to God’s will, the unknown of universe, the lack of control, the mystery of the unknown won’t be scary. To live in fear is to dance with the Devil. To give your devoted faith to two, is the most beautiful thing a woman can do and through that beauty, life will be balanced, calm and she will find peace.