A short bark of laughter erupts from her. “Not even close.”
“That’s a damn shame.”
“When I think back on that night, in my mind, we always go all the way.”
“Yeah? And how am I?”
“Eh.” She smiles that cocky smirk of a smile, the one I want desperately to kiss right off her face.
“Naughty girl.” I chuckle at her. Now that the mood’s been lightened somewhat, I press on. “Tonight will be about outlining your needs.”
She nods.
“You’ve stated that you’re looking to lose yourself. To clear your mind of clutter and enjoy carnal pleasures. In our lessons, my role will be to push you further than you’ve been before. Your role will be to trust me, and listen to your body.”
Nodding again, she takes a thoughtful sip of her wine.
Generally speaking, my role in this sort of meeting is to learn the person, learn her goals, limits, and any weak points she has. Later I will exploit those to the point of discomfort, with the goal of turning them into strengths and make her confidence soar at what she’s able to achieve during a session. Damn, if I’m not rock-fucking-hard just thinking about it.
Luckily, the waitress chooses that moment to deliver our meal. I take the opportunity to cool down by serving Macey a piece of chicken from the platter, along with spoonfuls of rice and beans.
“Eat up,” I encourage her.
Lifting her fork to her mouth, she’s quiet for now, but I can tell her brain is spinning. We enjoy half of our meal that way until my fiery Macey is back.
“Why do you do this?” she finally asks. “Why do you like submissive women?”
“First off, I don’t want you to see the word submissive with a negative connotation. It’s much more gratifying to watch a strong-willed woman submit to my desires than it is to engage with a doormat who’ll go along with anything I say. Don’t you think?”
She raises one eyebrow and stabs a slice of mango on her plate. “I suppose.”
“Don’t confuse this for what it is—I want an equal partner. Just because I’ll be the one calling the shots doesn’t mean you have no free will. In fact, I quite like spark in my women.”
“Does vanilla sex bore you?” she asks.
“No, vanilla sex doesn’t bore me. I just haven’t had a girlfriend or a serious relationship in a long time. And I tend to reserve that type of close, intimate sex with someone I’m involved with.” She doesn’t know the half of it.
“Makes sense, I guess,” she murmurs.
The wine has gotten to me, or maybe it’s just the effect this gorgeous girl has on me. She and I once shared so much.
Time to bring us back to business. “I only have two rules.”
She swallows a bite of her food, waiting for me to continue.
“That you use your safe word if things get too intense, and when this is over, it’s over. Three lessons, no strings, no attachments. I need you to agree to both rules right now, or the deal’s off.”
She frowns at the sudden change in my amiable mood. “Geez, so bossy.”
“I’m serious, Macey. Things are different this time.”
“I see that.”
Softening my tone, I add, “Your safety will always be a top priority, both physically and mentally. You don’t have to worry about that.”
She fiddles with her cloth napkin. “I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’m a little nervous.”
“It’s good to be nervous. It lets you know where you weak points are. Together, we’ll push past your comfort zone until you’re in that beautiful oblivion known as sub space.”
“What’s that?”
“If I do my job correctly, you’ll be transported into a trance-like state. It’s a euphoric glow, akin to being drunk on wine, I suppose. But what goes up must come down. Just like feeling the effects of a hangover after consuming alcohol, you may feel exhausted, emotional, confused over your role in what just happened, or even physical soreness.”
She raises her chin, almost as though she’s acknowledging my words as a challenge. “I see.”
I pause while the waitress clears our dishes from the table, and when we’re alone again, I lean forward and reach under the table. Giving the legs of her chair a tug, I pull her closer. My desire for her has been building all throughout the meal. The need to give her a taste of the fun we’ll have together overwhelms me. My hand finds her thigh and skims the hem of her dress.
Macey sucks in a sharp inhale.
Our table in the dimly light restaurant is secluded, but not private, and the secret thrill of being discovered only adds to the sexually intoxicating mood.
Pushing my fingers under her dress, I slide my palm against the bare skin of her thigh. Her skin is silky smooth, and her legs part under my touch.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Pancake?” I clip out in a low tone.
She makes a small murmuring sound in the back of her throat, signaling to me that she’s more than ready for whatever I can dish up.
Jesus. Am I ready for this?
I lean closer across the table and my fingers find her center—and the lacy fabric covering her pussy. As I brush my fingers over her clit, she swears under her breath and grips the edge of the table.
“Has it been a while since a man’s properly taken care of you?”
She nods, her chest beginning to show the telltale signs of arousal. She’s flushed and pink, and breathing hard already.