Dancing With A Dom: A BBW Romance (5 page)

Yes!
I gripped the chair edges, and waited for the first strike, for my whipping to commence. The belt whistled through the air before making contact on the roundest part of my bottom. I screamed. He lashed me again, and I rose on my toes with a grunt. Again and again he whipped me hard, as I trembled and shrieked. Closing my eyes didn’t help. I could hear the whoosh right before the loud thud on my bare flesh. I was raw, aching, vulnerable to his every whim. It was pure agony, pure delight as he whipped every part of my ass, all the way down to my upper thighs, until I couldn’t take any more. I reached my hands back to protect my poor throbbing cheeks, and he grabbed them.

“Two more. You can take it. Be my good girl.”

His words filled me. I wanted to be his good girl more than anything. His throbbing-assed, crying-pitifully, well-whipped good girl. “Whip me, sir.” I raised my bottom for him.

The last two strokes came hard and fast on the lowest part of my bottom, where it met my thighs, and I screamed in agony.

He entered my pussy with one finger, followed quickly by two. I heard his slaps against my wet clit. He stroked as he finger fucked me once, twice, three times, followed by a savage pinch.

I came right there. A loud keening wail released from my lips like never before, as the pressure built bubbled right out of me.
No
. It exploded. My whole body was one tight string that snapped as my orgasm went on and on. My body shook and shivered as he milked every last drop of my orgasm from me. Finally sagging over the chair, spent, I realized something. “I thought...” I still couldn’t get a full breath as I stood up to tease the man who had whipped and finger fucked me to the best orgasm of my life. “I thought you were going to fuck me until I cried.”

“Dear little subbie, we’ve only begun.” He advanced on me with a leer. “Get some water and stretch out your muscles. You’re going to be quite sore by the time I’m through with you.”

My breath whooshed out.
Yes, sir.

***

I gulped down a third of a bottle of water and did a quick stretch, making sure he could see me when I reached for my toes. Grinning and feeling playful, I rested my hands on my feet—making sure to keep my legs straight—and shook my ass at him. I had his attention.
All of it
.

Dane stalked toward me, a hungry look on his face as he met my coy look in the full mirror. “Are you teasing me, sweetheart?” He squeezed my bottom cheeks and dragged his finger against the crotch of my yoga pants, along the seam of my sensitive pussy. “Did I tell you to put those pants back on?”

“Yes, sir, and no, sir.” I giggled as I answered each respective question.

“Take them off.”

I pulled them down, and Dane yanked them over my feet quicker than I could say
maraca
. Me in my panties and tank top, Dane in his pants with no top—we made a pair. A very sexy and only slightly sweaty pair of dancers, who, by the looks of both sets of eyes reflecting in the mirror, were beyond aroused and ready for some other dancing.

Dane grabbed my ponytail and pulled me toward him, kissing me roughly on the mouth. He nibbled on my lower lip, and forced my lips open. A commanding kiss as he squeezed my ass, ordering me to yield to him. I loved his taste and couldn’t get enough of it. Peppermint infused with the smell of him. Pure sex. Real man. It made me dizzy. But Dane wouldn’t let me fall. The way he held my bottom, pressing me against his hard length, there was no way I would hit the ground. But I was falling—for
him
.

He gave me one last stroke, reaching between my legs to graze the wet liner of my panties, then placed my arms around his neck, and picked me up. His shoulders were even bigger from this angle. Broad, muscular, sexy as hell with a light sheen of sweat.

It wasn’t too hard for him to peel my panties down, leaving me bare and so very wet against his palms. I was beyond aroused. My clit was so sensitive, every time I rubbed against his firm stomach, I received another jolt of electricity. Another trickle ran down my inner thighs, which I rubbed against his warm abdominals. I needed him now. Hard, fast, deep. The kind of fucking that made you see stars and walk bowlegged for the rest of the week. I needed Dane.

“We’re going to do this fast, little girl,” he said as he carried me over to the straight back chair in the back of the room.

In the mirror, I could see my legs wrapped around his magnificent torso. Firm, chiseled, flexing with each step. I wanted to memorize this view. But Dane had more in store for me.

He placed me on my shaky feet and stripped down out of his pants. Okay, this was an even better view. The portrait of a strong man, confident in life, powerful, dominant, left me hungry for the thing that stood right in front of him…huge. In every single way. I could never get enough staring at the huge cock. Bulging with strength and stamina—the kind that really could make a girl weep—in a good way, of course. I wanted to take him in my mouth and worship him. My tongue darted out to lick the corner of my mouth as I started to kneel.

He stopped me and pulled me back up. “I said we were going to do this quick.” His voice was low and husky. “I need to be in you right now.” He turned me around, gave me a quick smack to my already sore bottom, and picked me up to kneel on the chair. “Does that hurt your knees, baby?” Such consideration coming from someone who wanted to make me cry.

I laughed and shook my head. “I won’t feel anything but you once you’re inside me.”

He stood behind me, petting my hair before taking his thick, long cock and stroking it against my pussy.

I groaned with pleasure as he tickled my clitoris with the head of his penis. “Please, Dane, take me hard.” I gripped the back of the chair and held on for dear life.

He eased in, taking his time to fill me completely. “Gah!” I smacked backward and made contact with some bare part behind me.

“Did you just spank me, little girl?” The low growl thrilled and scared me.

“Sorry?” No, I really wasn’t. I wanted him in me.

“You’ll be sorrier.” His threat came half a second before he pounded into me. Hard, fast… Oh my God, I thought I might fall off the chair, but he somehow held me in place while fucking me senseless and spanking my ass, my legs, in between to reach my clit. Anything he could get his palm on.

So hard to breathe. So wonderful. So deep. So agonizingly and achingly wonderful. He pulled all the way out and slammed into me again and again. Touching, kissing, spanking, nipping… I think he said some dirty words, but I couldn’t hear them. I was too caught in my own fog. A fog that was getting thicker and darker. I couldn’t see anything but the blur of the far wall. The tunnel became deeper and longer, and I was now a huge bundle of electrified nerves all shorting out at the same time.

Then I exploded. A dizzying array of ethereal lights and echoes of unintelligible shouts of ecstasy. They wrapped around me, blanketing my body with heat as my senses went into overdrive.

Down, down, down. It took half of forever for me to float back down from the place I had been. When I finally opened my eyes, I was in Dane’s arms, cocooned against his chest.

“Are you okay, baby girl?”

I started to nod, but my body trembled and shook, and I couldn’t talk for a moment. So I just leaned my head into him, and listened to his strong heartbeat. He massaged me gently and rocked me, neither of us needing to say a word.

Then I tasted something salty on my lips. I felt the warm tears on my cheeks. I was crying. He continued to snuggle with me and caress me for another hour, blanketing me with his T-shirt, using his pants to wipe my tears.

He had kept his word.

And I loved every minute of it.

I wasn’t falling for this man.

I had fallen.

Chapter Five

Buyer’s remorse
.

That’s what I was calling it. What we did yesterday—no, what
I
did yesterday… Oh my God, I danced for him. For three men. One with a camera rolling. I showed them parts of my body that hadn’t seen the light of day in such a long time, they might as well have been made of marble.

I slathered some more of my favorite lavender soap into my palms and scrubbed my body.
Harder
. I couldn’t get clean enough. I felt so dirty and ashamed. I was already on my third lather /rinse cycle. Wash, rinse, look at fat stomach, wince, repeat.

It wasn’t the sex.
That
had been amazing. I couldn’t believe the things we had done, the way I reacted, the words I said. I had never used the “S” word before. It had always seemed so dirty. But yesterday, when Dane played me like a well-oiled instrument, I said those words. And I meant them. I wanted to be his naughty slut. His dirty slut.
His
slut. I remembered the salty taste of his cum, sliding down my throat as he fucked my mouth. And his thick cock had filled my pussy so completely, so beautifully, while he pumped his fingers in and out of my swollen, hot, just-whipped, ass. I’d never come harder or screamed louder than I did yesterday with him.

The sex and the kinky stuff and foreplay weren’t the issue.

It was the lack of control.
My control
. Did I really dance for those men? I lost all control. I showed them the most horrible parts of my body. The fat, grotesque parts even my ex-husband hadn’t liked. I burlesqued my way into a lap dance on my partner. And don’t even get me started on that dollar bill. Holy shit! Did I even bother to think about where the money had been before I shoved it into my panties? No.

I shuddered and slathered up for another extra special washing of my intimate parts. My poor lady bits might have ink on them. Good old George Washington probably had a huge grin on his face—not that I had inspected the bill after wiping my juices all over it.

Germs. So many germs.

I know what my stomach and ass must have looked like when I moved. I bounced up and down, and watched my soapy flesh jiggle—unending wiggling.
Ugh
. Maybe one more scrub/rinse cycle. I turned the water hotter.

Why had I acted like that yesterday? Why the sudden loss of control? Where did the horny porn star thing come from? This was my retribution for not staying in control of myself. Those poor men must have had to rinse their eyes with bleach after they left. Thankfully, they hadn’t laughed. Oh God, I wondered if they laughed. This sucked.

Turning off the water—thankfully, I had finished my final rinse before it ran cold—I stepped out onto the freezing tile floor, and wrapped my favorite orange towel around my wrinkled, overweight body.

Buyer’s remorse.
That’s what I had.

After throwing on my jeans and pulling my hair into a ponytail, I started on my list.

Okay, first things first. Coffee. Then make a list for what to do today, including groceries, a french fry run, and which lists to make next week.

Peppermint-mocha creamer made things seem a little better. I sat down on my old leather couch and pulled my knees up to my chest. The couch was the only thing I wouldn’t give up during the settlement. This was my mom’s old couch. I didn’t want the house, or the pictures, or any of the other furniture. But this couch. It smelled like my mom. Lavender, cinnamon, with little tiny pieces of yarn. No matter how many times I vacuumed, I still found more pieces from her old knitting days. This was my couch.

I snuggled up with my second cup of coffee and finished my list. Okay. Now I needed to clean up the kitchen. It wouldn’t take too long. This tiny apartment didn’t have much in the way of kitchen and living space. It made it easy to keep clean.

After tidying up the kitchen and living room and bathroom, I realized I had been waltzing while vacuuming. Jeesh. I couldn’t get the music out of my head. The beats moved faster, and I started swaying. My hips liked this kind of movement. They liked to sway. So did my ass. I was about to Mary Poppins my way into a provocative salsa with the hose of my Kirby when I realized what I was doing.

Damn it! Scolding myself to stay in control of my freakishly horny body, I goose-stepped my way through the dusting. Mmm, but a feather duster did have the whole French maid kind of appeal to it. I could see myself coyly grinning while reaching for the top shelf. I would wear nothing except my apron.

Oops, got a little dust on my tits. Maybe I should wipe them off.
Or my handsome partner could. I stroked my nipples. I moaned.

Stop right there!
This was insane. I had become a lunatic who got off with a feather duster and kinky thoughts of well-chiseled dancing Doms. What happened to my self-control? Tomorrow, I was going to see my doctor. My hormones were probably fluctuating. Maybe some medication would help.

I snuggled up onto my couch and checked off my list. Thirty more items to do before I could cross a black Sharpie mark through Saturday.

The buzzer rang for my door. Looking at the small monitor, I saw the dark, tousled hair, strong lines, chiseled jaw, dangerous eyes. It was
him
. My dancing Dom. “I thought we were taking today off.” I released the intercom button.

“May I come up?”

Did I want him to come up? It created a new level of intimacy to bring him into my home—tiny as it was. If he had come to laugh at me, or, even worse, apologize about yesterday, I would die. I couldn’t take him rejecting me. And I had already gone through four bars of lavender and lemon soaps.

I was forming a very real emotional attachment with this man. This sexy, creative, dominant man held my heart in the palm of his hand and didn’t realize it. He could easily dump me like yesterday’s trash as soon as the show was over. And after my Valentine’s Day wakeup call from
he who must not be named because he is a cheating asshole
, I wasn’t sure I could handle it.

“I brought something for you.” Dane held up a bag with the beautiful yellow arches over the bright shining M.

“Come right up.” I buzzed him in.