Wednesday, November 26, 2008

The Tipping Point

True to form, he made me wait. Keeping this affair uncomplicated is more complicated than I’d like it to be. Mostly, I’m faking it all the way through because I really love this man. It's not about the sex either. I think I actually adore him really. I pay attention to the way he moves, the things, he says, his work and committments. The fact that he was such a fascinating sexual character as well made him simply irresistable. Telling him all that I really feel and think will only make him run away. I resisted the need to tell him, I just wanted to see him. I’d wait patiently but he really gave me no choice. I'd have to let him know how much I appreciated our last session. Come to think of it, it's becoming a habit to call or text him a few days later to remind him there's more to give and get.

I had a glass or two of wine and half a joint the last time I was at his place so my recollection of events was a little sketchy. But I remember mostly that I loved it, like I always do. I couldn't stand waiting anymore. So I commenced another round of dirty text messages.

I told him how much I enjoyed it when he spit in my mouth and how I wanted more. ASAP, he said. ASAP works for me. He didn't seem to need as much enticing as before, just a little gentle coaxing. I waited a day or two more and finally..an evening text after work arrived.

Him: Later?

Me: Absolutely.

Him: Ok, what time can you come?

Me: How’s 11?

Him: 11s cool. I need u tipsy as possible.

Me: K

Him: Wear your corset.

Me: K

Him: If you have cigarettes, please bring some.

Me: K




I'd been pacing the floor waiting for that text. But the point is I waited patiently as far as he knew. This night, I'd be equally disciplined. I didn’t drink much. Don’t even think I was even really tipsy. He says when I drink I make more saliva in my mouth. It sounded like another marathon night to me with submission as the theme. So, I obediently had a drink, wore my corset and brought the cigarettes.

I arrived and noticed a few things right off. He was in a fantastic mood, probably because he knew he had something special in store for me. There was a chair in his bedroom, a black leather bar stool, that was never there before. I knew it would be used in some way I couldn’t yet imagine. I turned and sat on the edge of the bed and removed my shoes. Laid out on the bed to my left was a leather collar with a chain leash attached, a red silk scarf and a three various sized dildos.

Wow...

I think I blushed a little. I was so excited that I let out a little gasp of air to catch my breath. I don’t think he heard it. I could have cared less about the dildos. Those were familiar. It was the unfamiliar that I wanted to know more about. A leather collar? Fingers over lips, biting slightly, nervously…oh my.

The last time I was with him I had worn a shirt with long straps that tied around my neck. Now that I'm sober, I can remember untying them and wrapping the straps around my neck, handing him the loose ends to pull and lightly choke me with. He must have gotten a hint or two from that.

"What’s all that," I asked, pointing to the objects at the other end of the bed.

"Oh that", he said nonchalantly. "That’s for later."

"For later," I questioned. "Oh, you can give it to me right now."

He smiled. "Okay, you want it now," he nodded and repeated coolly.

I started to undress. He put some music on. Kanye. Track 1. Say You Will. On repeat for hours. That night in particular, the song seemed dark and incredibly sexy.




He picked up the collar and walked over to me with it, as I stood nervously in a black corset and lace underwear. He walked closer up on me and put the collar on in the sweetest most gentle way , similar to how a man puts a necklace on around a woman’s neck. I thought I was going to melt on the spot. He moved my long hair gently out the way and strapped the collar tight.

"How does this feel," he asked. "Is it too tight?"

I reached up to feel it around my neck. Since this was my first time with this thing, I figured I should take it easy.

"Yeah, a little too tight," I whisphered.

"Okay," he said sweetly and loosened it some. "Better?"

My head down almost resting on his chest, I nodded. Then he walked back to get the silk red scarf. He tied it tightly across my eyes.

"Can you see," he asked. "I want to make sure you can’t see anything."

I said I couldn’t but managed to pull it up just a little so there was a very tiny space I could peek from underneath. I had to be able to see him.

He let the leash fall to the floor and instructed me to climb up on the bed and lie down.

"I’m not here," he said. "Do your thing."

I knew what he meant. He wanted me to masturbate for him.

I did. Peeking out of the small opening beneath the blindfold, I saw him get his camcorder. I noticed it on the floor when I came in and had a feeling he’d be using it. I had never masturbated for anyone before in this way. I was nervous and too excited. I couldn’t get into it like I wanted. I wanted him all over me. I could see him standing over me, watching me from all angles. He liked to watch me. I tossed the dildos to the side. They could do nothing for me.I wanted him. He knew it and sensed my anxiousness.

He grabbed the leash attached to my collar and demanded me to come to him. "Come here," he growled, pulling me forcefully as he stood at the end of the bed. He's a boss. I loved it. Still blindfolded, I crawled over and felt around to "see" with my hands what was in front of me. I couldn't see anything, I think because he switched the light to red. I sat up on my knees and could feel his chest. I peeled off his shirt, gliding my hands up and down his smooth skin. It was a pleasure to experience him without the benefit of my most important sense. I pulled his sweatpants off and I could feel he was already erect. He wrapped the chain around his fist several times pulling me in, even closer to him. I flicked and licked the head of his penis with pleasure and put my tongue all over him. I didn't miss a single sensitive spot. I caught him slipping at one point...he was wide open. I know what he likes now and I'm learning all his secret places.

I got on my knees. He put the camcorder on me and I performed some more. He never catpures the best parts on tape. He always gets distracted and has to put the camera down. His legs weakened a little and he took a seat on the bar stool. “Is this your throne”, I asked with my mouth wet and full. I spit so much saliva all over his penis it dripped all over my chest and left wet pools on the hard wood floor. I think I heard an encore. He wanted more but first he repaid me. He licked me, fucked me and sucked me senseless.



We took a brief break. He turned off all the lights and we layed in bed close together. But I had an insatiable appetite and went down for more. This time, he made me take my time. He wanted me to take all of him in my mouth which wasn't easy to do. He pushed my head down slowly until he reached the back of my throat. I went all the way down as far as I could possibly take it over and over. I loved it. He pushed me further than I'd ever gone. I did the work. He just made it all possible.







I stayed until the morning and woke up with a sore throat and a few small bruises on my thighs from him manhandling me. It was all so perfect.

Now how I am I supposed to stop? Better still, why would I want to?

Monday, November 10, 2008

Wet Dreams

It seems I've slowed down somewhat. But not by choice. Shortly after The Loft episode, my lover and I had to have 'The Talk'. I initiated it I suppose after asking what the deal was with all the missed opportunities. He didn't seem to want me as much as I wanted him and well, if that was the case, I could always move on. But I didn't want to jump to conclusions. So I stopped texting and picked up the phone. In short, he told me that he wasn't trying to brush me off and I just needed to be patient. He called me a day or two later to make sure I understood where he was coming from.

"If we keep this up for let's say six months, are you going to have expectations of me?" he asked.

I knew what he was alluding to but didn't want to answer. I didn't want to agree to no strings attached sex because it wasn't all I wanted. But damn, it was good. For the moment, I was just enjoying the ride. That's all I could really say. He knows me well. He knows I have feelings for him and to some degree he has feelings for me. Enough to not want to hurt me in any way. But that's all complicated and boring to me.

So far, I've been able to keep my emotions under control. But my body is another story. Every morning, I want him. I'm often late to work because my dreams get the better of me and I can't get out of bed until I cum. It's a stronger need than I've ever had. He satisfies me in ways I can't adequately explain but I'll try. I'm the type of woman that needs to be handled. He forces me to be patient and I'm learning his ways. I wanted him to know mine too.

I was growing tired of his excuses that he had jerked off and was spent, or too tired to see me. One Sunday evening I texted him to let him know this was the last night he could jerk off. I told him he needed to stop wasting what was mine. That he should let it build up and feed it to me at the end of the week. To my surprise, he was obedient, or at least went along with my game. The fact that I could be as nasty as my heart desired with him was a thrill and something I'd never experienced before.

So on the evening of our next rendezvous, I was quite excited. But it had gotten so late. I had waited so long. I'd lost the urge to do some of the things I had in store. I had been brushing up on my Spanish and had a quite a few sexy little things I wanted to whisper in his ear:

Besa me.
Estoy muy mojada para ti.
Lo quiero porque es perfecto y delicioso.
Dimelo mas duro...
Pongalo in mi boca por favor.
Besa mi cuerpo con su lengua.
Ahora, soy es tu dominadora.


I'd have to save all that for another time. I can't even remember the things we did that night...accept for one brand new thrill. I was giving him head like I like to do. He was standing over me and he pulled my head back and then...he slowly spit in my mouth. Wow. He asked first if he could and I agreed. First it was just a little. Then I begged him to do it twice more. I liked it. One more time I said, and this time he really did it. His saliva splattered all over my face and I licked my lips, held it my mouth and went back down on him. He loves his head sloppy and wet. A black woman letting a man spit in her face? No way? Yes, way. It was dirty and the sexiest shit ever! I could have never in a million years imagined doing something like that but I loved it. I think I have what is called, an oral fetish. I love anything that has to do with the lips and tongue.

Still though, I only get these sessions sparingly. It drives me crazy. I'm hoping to hear from him right now even though he said to give him a few days. A few days feels like a month. *sigh*