Adventurous Me (16 page)

We walk to the car in silence, but once we’re both in, Clint turns to me. There’s a serious look on his face, one unlike the other serious looks he wears, and he asks with hesitation, “Trish, can you tell me exactly why you came into the lifestyle? Why is it that you’re looking for a Dom?”

I think for a minute, and then I try to articulate it, but it’s hard. “Well, I sort of fell into it. Literally. I kinda fell onto Dave in a bar and he gave me a card for the club. But when I got here, it seemed like, I don’t know, like I’d been looking for something and it felt like I’d found it. Do you know what I mean?”

He nods. “But what do you want in the long run? What can the lifestyle give you that a plain vanilla relationship can’t?”

There’s no good way to describe it, but I know the answer. “I’m not looking for someone to just love or have a relationship with. I’m looking for someone to
bond
with, seriously bond with. I’m looking for someone who can fill a spot in my life that no one else can, someone I can trust. And I want it to be with someone who’ll stretch me, help me reach my fullest potential, won’t let me stagnate. Someone who’ll offer me enough that I wake up every morning happy to see what the day will bring, not dreading the same old ho-hum thing. I’d like a little adventure, that’s all.” I stop and look at his face; he’s watching me intently, his eyes never leaving mine. “Does that make sense?”

He starts the car and puts it in gear, his face never giving away his feelings. “Makes perfect sense. All the sense in the world,” he says and pulls out onto the street.

“It works like this.” He fills the soft plastic bottle and hands it to me. I hold it and squirt it out the little holes. “Three times. There are three in the package. Empty the stuff that’s in them, rinse them thoroughly, and fill them with warm water. Think you can do that?”

Clint’s teaching me proper techniques in anal sex preparation. I had no idea this was part of it all and I’m a little surprised Dave didn’t teach me this earlier, so I blurt out, “I didn’t know I was supposed to do this, Sir. I’m sorry for before now.” This is embarrassing, and I feel my face burning.

“No one taught you. I’ve just dealt with it up until now. But you need to know how to do this.” He leans up against the vanity in my bathroom. “Go ahead, try it.”

“Here? With you standing there?” Now my face
is
burning.

“Yes. With me standing here. I fuck it, for god’s sake. What difference does it make?” He’s got a look on his face that tells me he can’t understand my trepidation. I put the bottle and wand under me and try to line up the wand with my asshole. Once it starts in, I must make a face because Clint says, “As far in as you can make it go, which should be all the way. Then just squeeze but try to keep your hand out of the way.”

It’s grossly uncomfortable, but when the water runs out, so does some stuff I really didn’t want to see. “Please, god, tell me that’s not been . . .”

“A little bit. It’s to be expected. But not anymore. The next bottle, please.” I do the same thing again, and less comes out with the water this time. “One more time.” The third bottle goes into me, and this time it comes out clear. “Perfect! Now it’s my responsibility. If I want you to do this, I have to tell you beforehand. Do
not
do this unless I tell you to. It’s not good for your body to do it every night, so if I want to fuck your ass, I’ll tell you and you can prepare. If I don’t tell you and decide I want to take you anally, that’s my issue, not yours. Understand?”

“Yes, Master.”
That wasn’t so bad
, I think.
I don’t mind it at all.

“Good. Now I want to fuck that squeaky-clean ass of yours,” he grins. Before I can get up, he holds me down on the toilet seat and squats down in front of me, his eyes level with mine. “Trish, I know some of this doesn’t seem very sexy, but trust me, I find it very sexy that you’d prepare yourself for me this way. It shows me that you take my comfort and satisfaction seriously. And I appreciate it.”

I’m shocked that he’s said any of that. “Um, thanks. No, wait, you’re welcome.” He chuckles. “I don’t really know how to respond to that.”

“Just say, ‘Master, I want you to fuck my ass,’” he laughs.

I start to laugh. “Master, I want you to fuck my ass,” I repeat. “Right now!”

There’s lots of squealing when he grabs me up, throws me over his shoulder, and plunks me down on the bed. “Kneel up close to the headboard and use it to hold yourself upright. Now arch your back to give me access to your pretty little pucker.” I do exactly as he says, and he coats his cock with lube and shoves it into me. I moan out and clutch the headboard.

He fucks up into my rear entrance while his hands wind around my torso, his fingers gripping my nipples. He squeezes and twists them mercilessly, and I’m overcome with fire and heat, moaning and crying out, wanting every inch of him deeper and harder. If it were dark in the room, I truly believe the sparks from his hands on my skin would be visible. The pounding he gives me is insane, and I beg him for release. In response, he continues tormenting one nipple while he reaches down to my clit and strokes it with the other hand. “Keep your back arched!” he barks as he strokes my plump nubbin, and I writhe and grind against him as his dick plunges hard and deep into me.

“Master, may I come?” I pant out.

“No! You’ll wait for me.” I do, and I’m glad. In just a couple of minutes he grunts out, “Come for me, sub!” and I explode just as he unloads into my tight little hole, his white-hot batter filling me to overflowing. After he’s thrust into me several more times, he says, “Lie down. I’ll be back in a minute.” I hear him in the bathroom taking a piss, and then the water running, and I know he’s probably washing his cock. He doesn’t want to take any chances of spreading bacteria into my vagina, and I appreciate that.

When he comes back, he says, “May I ask you a question?”

“Sure!” He wants to know something about me? That’s a first.

“How old are you?”

Hell – I hadn’t thought it would be that. “Um, forty-nine. How old are you?”

“Thirty-five.” I almost gasp. He’s younger than I thought. Guess it’s that always-serious look on his face that makes him seem older. Then he asks the obvious question. “Trish, does that bother you? Being with a younger man?”

I shake my head. “No! Of course not. I’m flattered, really.”

“You shouldn’t be. You’ve got a beautiful body. You should be proud.” He smiles at me and I blush. I’ve never thought of myself as being anything other than somewhat attractive.

“Does it bother you? Being with someone older, I mean?”

“Nope. None of anyone’s business, and I like the way you look and feel. Your age isn’t a problem for me.

I’m happy for that, but I’m puzzled. Why in the world would it matter? I’ve only got another six days and then he’ll send me away. So who cares?

“O
kay, I’m getting ready to go in. Try to relax.” Clint’s cock is buried in my pussy, and I feel the dildo he’s holding breach my rosette. As he shoves it in, he withdraws his shaft, then alternates over and over. Controlling my moaning isn’t even possible anymore. “Doing okay?”

“Yeah, oh god, Master, it’s so good!” I’ve never done anything like this. What’s more, I find it unbelievably arousing that we’re in bed and having sex at eleven o’clock in the morning. It feels like we’re skipping school or work. “Oh god. Please don’t stop doing that, okay?”

“Won’t. I’m about to change it, though. Both will go in and out at the same time. It’ll hurt the first few times, but it’ll get better.”

I start to say something when his dick and the dildo both stroke into me at the same time and I cry out, “Sweet mother of god, fuck me!” and shudder all over. My fingers are gripping the sheets furiously, and I feel like I’m going to split apart. “Oh god! Oh, it burns!” He slaps me on the ass with his free hand. “Oh god, Master, fuck me hard!” I can’t stop myself from crying out. It’s easily the greatest fucking I’ve ever gotten.

“I’m turning up the volume. Let me hear your pleasure, sub.” He starts a more vigorous pumping and I’m lost in the deliciousness of the pain. I’m stretched to the max, so much so that I can barely breathe. He’s working his cock and that dildo and I don’t want it to ever stop. Then he reaches his free hand around me and starts to stroke my clit.

“Oh, god, Master, no! Please, oh no, please? Oh, god, fuck me, no, no, no. Yes! Oh, yeahhhhhh!” I’m squirming in my need, wanting more and afraid at the same time. The building of the orgasm is fast and furious.

Above my cries I hear, “Come for me, sub!” and my body turns loose. He’s pounding his shaft and the dong into me hard and deep, and my cunt tries to clamp down but it can’t – it’s stretched too tight. I’m screaming out over and over, and he keeps going until I’m hoarse and shaking all over, then stops rubbing my clit, drops the dildo, and leans down onto my back. “I take my pleasure now, sub,” he whispers to me as he wraps both arms around my waist and starts to hunch me like a wild animal mating. It’s raw and primal and exhilarating. His balls slap my clit as he pounds into my warmth and wetness, then squeezes me even tighter and grunts his climax into me, banging my cervix as he does. He shoves in as far as he can go and shakes me with his efforts to drain his essence completely into me. Then he falls onto my back and lies there, arms around my waist.

My arms are shaking from weakness and from resting on them for so long, not to mention his body weight. Once he’s beside me on the bed, he grabs me and yanks me down onto him, wrapping his arms around me. “How was that, Vännan? Was that good?”

“Oh, god, Master, that was incredible.” I’m still burning, but it’s a good burn.

“Wait until next time. Maybe next time you can be with me and . . . with two Doms,” he corrects himself. My heart sinks. Two Doms, neither one of whom is him.

“Yeah, that would be great,” I say, trying to fake excitement. This is my ninth day with him and he’s still just as distant as he was the very first day. Warmer, yeah, but still distant. “Can I go to the bathroom, Master?”

“Sure! Go on,” he says and slaps my ass as I get up. I go to the bathroom, pee, and throw some water on my face. When I go back to the bed, he’s lying there, propped up on one elbow, and he smiles as he sees me come back.

“What?” I ask.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful and sexy you are? You’re poetry in motion,” he says, patting the bed beside him.

“Poetry in motion, Sir? Perhaps you haven’t seen me walk in heels!” I laugh. It’s true; I’m a lot of things, but graceful isn’t one of them. I drop down on the bed beside him and prop myself to mirror his position, putting my face just inches from his.

“I have, and you’re still poetry in motion. You’ve learned so much, Trish. I’m so impressed with you.”
Impressed enough to collar me?
, I wonder. Nope. I’m pretty sure that’s the right answer to that question.

“Thank you, Master. You’re a good teacher.”

He acts like he’s not sure what to say. Finally, he answers, “Thank you, Trish. I’m trying, really I am.”

“I know, Master. It’s not even noon. What are we doing for the rest of the day?”

“I need a new car. I wanted to go look at some. Want to go with me?” he asks, running a finger up and down my arm.

“Sure! That sounds like fun, Sir.” Cars. I love cars. This will be great.

“Okay. I’ll pick out your clothes. No panties, no bra. And stilettos.” I groan. “But they make your legs look über sexy.”

“Oh! Well, in that case, maybe I need a couple more pairs, Master!”

“Maybe you do.” Before I can get up out of the bed, he presses me down, pins me by my shoulders, and looks down into my face. “We’ll eat while we’re out and when we get back, I plan to fuck you in the back yard. What do you say to that, sub?”

“Neighbors?”

“Yeah, we can invite them if you want.” He grins.

“No! I mean, won’t your neighbors complain, Sir?”

“They’re not home during the day. We’ll be alone. Unless one of them is playing hooky, and then they could get a worse show, don’t you think?” He leans down and kisses me. His lips lock with mine and I’m lost in their warmth and softness. When he rises back up, I reach up and kiss him, just a peck. One hand comes up and strokes the side of my face. “You’re really something, know that?”