Submitting to Her (31 page)

She was pretty, and she smelled of apricots,
and she was easy to fall into bed with, though now I'd been exposed
to the kind of energy levels of a dominant female, I wondered
whether Taylor's pliable manner would hold up.

She was on the bed almost before the door was
closed, and I was quickly in her arms, resolved to try my utmost to
forget about Zoey.

"I missed you," she breathed, as I kissed her
neck, marveling at the velvet softness of her skin. "Gina said you
got involved with someone at work."

"I did," I said, remembering that Gina was
the name of her sister in our accounts department.

"Didn't work out?" she asked, happy as ever
to lie back and let me do whatever I liked with her, which on this
occasion involved moving down to push up her little pink and white
top, revealing her cute stomach there for me to kiss.

"Not really."

I just brushed my hands over her body, down
her slender thighs, checking out her trim figure through the thin
white leggings she wore, which along with her top made her look a
little trashy perhaps, though fine for a bar and a nightclub as it
turned out.

"Mmm…" she moaned as I pushed up her top even
further, to find her little breasts, knowing full well after an
evening's viewing that she hadn't bothered with a bra. "I'm glad it
didn't work out."

I swear, her skin tasted as though she'd
brushed herself in sugar.

She was soon moaning and writhing under me as
I tasted her flesh, squeezing her little handfuls and grazing her
nipples with my fingers. Little cries came as I found her stiff
buds with my hot mouth.

My hand sank down between her legs, feeling
the glorious curves of her body, the kind of classically feminine
shape that could turn a man on in an instant. Her leggings really
were thin - hardly any protection for a night on the town. I could
feel the heat of her sex through the stretchy material as well as
her underlying underwear.

"Tell me what you want," I said quietly,
knowing how things had been with her before, knowing she was like
all those others who just lay back, opened their thighs, allowed
their conqueror to take his fill without question before faking an
orgasm in an attempt to make him think she was good in bed.

Taylor looked at me blankly, said: "I want
what you want, Aide."

I looked at her, trying not to feel
irritated. What a waste to simply push myself inside her, wriggle
about a bit and then empty myself. She was a touch trashy, sure,
but she was still beautiful, still a woman who deserved to know the
possibilities she was missing out on.

I said: "I want you to come. Tell me what you
like."

She smiled, her forehead creasing in
confusion. "I like you," she said. "You make me come - every time
you fuck me."

I thought back, knowing now that what she
said was a lie. I'd never made her come. Had I ever made any of
those women come? I suddenly felt a bit of an idiot. Perhaps Zoey
had been the only one I'd ever actually given an orgasm.

Taylor said brightly: "You want me to suck
you a little first?"

She spoke as though it was a spark of
blinding inspiration, that no girl had ever thought of before.
Foreplay before penetration.

I stroked her cheek, said: "You know there's
more to life than pleasing a guy?"

"What're you talking about?"

"Shh…"

I kissed my way down her stomach, slipping
easily between her legs, where my face came to rest in the crux of
her thighs. I was ignoring her own wishes, I suppose, in
distracting myself with her shape, her scent, her heat as I trailed
my mouth and nose over the delicate form of her mound. But she did
want what I wanted, so. She seemed to be enjoying my touch, at
least, and was never going to stop me. As always, she was happy to
simply lie back as a passenger. Only this time, glancing up, I
could see her face remained marked by confusion and
uncertainty.

As I explored her hips and inner thighs,
turning her this way and that as though she was my own personal sex
doll, I enjoyed her candy perfume, her girlish figure. Yet somehow,
although she was letting out little sighs and groans at my touch, I
got the sense that whatever I did to her, she'd let out those same
sounds.

It was no achievement to give her pleasure,
somehow.

I stopped myself from thinking about it,
knowing that my thinking was coming back round to the fact that
making love to Zoey - worshipping her as I had tried to do - had
been everything to do with achievement. It wasn't that it had been
more difficult to give her pleasure, but she'd been more demanding,
brighter, more independent. Making her sigh and cry and moan and
writhe on a bed had meant so much more.

It burned inside that I had walked away from
all that. What a fool I had been. There must have been a way I
could have coped with her ongoing obsession with Brandon. I could
have somehow made the demand that she was not going to let him
physically hurt her any longer.

I snapped myself out of my daze, only to find
that I'd unconsciously rolled down Taylor's leggings - and her
panties, and was now rubbing her bare pussy, coaxing her with my
fingers.

God, she was so limp, she'd even let my
unconscious self strip her virtually naked. I hadn't even
noticed.

Taylor lay on her back, but her hips and legs
were turned to the side, revealing her pert behind as well as her
little pink pussy. I kissed her cheeks while my fingers sought out
her soft folds and the wetness that was very apparent already,
breathing in the earthier scent of her arousal along with the
constant syrupy sweetness of her perfume.

There wasn't a hint of hair anywhere on her
body, and her pussy was waxed clear. With her copious juices, it
was easy for me to sink two fingers inside her. The penetration
made her gasp, but I wanted more.

"What're you doing?" she asked, sounding a
little dazed.

"Whatever I want, isn't that what you
said?"

"I guess…"

I think if this had been one of the previous
occasions I'd been with Taylor, the very next move would have been
replacing my fingers in her tightness with my cock. Really, she was
pretty enough, she was certainly wet enough, so in I'd be.

In that moment, it was easy to see just how
much I'd been changed by Zoey. She'd opened my eyes. I now craved
more - I wanted to taste this girl lying before me, I wanted to
feast on her, I ultimately realized that I wanted to please her -
force her out of her fakery into real unadulterated
satisfaction.

Off came my top and my t-shirt, leaving me
bare-chested to strip off her leggings and panties fully, before
parting her thighs and sinking onto her open flower.

"Hey what? Oh…"

A gasp as she felt the heat of my mouth now
close on her sensitive folds, my tongue emerge to delve into her
slit and flicker over her clit, my fingers to slip inside her to
support. She hadn't been expecting this at all, though she was
happy enough to lie there on her back accepting it, moaning as I
continued to devour her hairless pussy, appreciating the savory
tang of her plentiful wetness as she gripped my head firmly with
her highly-manicured hands.

Though she was no Zoey, she did make cute
little noises born from surprise and enlightenment as I showed her
more attention and focus than she'd probably received from all her
previous dates combined.

I think merely in showing her the
possibilities that a man can achieve with his mouth, rather than
any other part of his anatomy, it felt like some kind of
achievement. That, at least, was distracting for me.

It amused me that she started off by making
the kind of noises she thought I wanted to hear, the kind of
responses she believed would make me think I was some kind of love
god - and after a few moments of tenderly licking and sucking her
pussy, her acting had fallen away and she was simply giving in to
the sensations rushing throughout her system - and her writhing and
groaning and shuddering and gasping bore witness to the true
feelings I was giving her.

"Oh God, Aiden... oh my sweet Lord…"

There was a fair amount of blaspheming from
the former Baptist girl. Afterwards, I think she must have thought
she'd had some kind of religious experience.

I nearly suggested that she had Zoey to thank
for that particular orgasm. The sudden memory of my dark-haired
goddess speared me right through the heart.

I almost missed Taylor bouncing up from the
bed, saying brightly: "My turn?"

Taylor pulled my pants down only enough to
free up my cock, to which she reacted with a suitably delighted
squeal as though it were a favorite toy finally returned to
her.

I looked at her, thinking how Zoey would
probably have finished up by now, after making her come. She'd keep
me in denial until I really, really needed release. This seemed
somehow cheap.

In this new reality, though, Taylor was not
Zoey. I'd have to look far and wide to find someone like her.

Taylor lay over me, clutching the base of my
cock in one hand as she took me straight in her mouth, her silky
blonde hair trailing over my stomach as her fingers tightened
around my shaft, which couldn't help but harden under her heated
assault.

I let out a moan - it did feel good, though
there was that hollow feeling about it, empty, like it wasn't
properly earned.

I lay back, closed my eyes, and couldn't help
but imagine the dark hair, bright eyes and powerful presence of my
Zoey. Oh, what an idiot I'd been just leaving her like that. There
must have been another answer. I'd regret losing her for the rest
of my life.

What if every single sexual partner from now
on turned out to feel like this to me, like Taylor? Empty, limp,
lifeless. Too easy to please.

Taylor was moaning as she continued to bob
her head up and down my shaft, and I felt I was doing her a
disservice, shutting my eyes and imagining another woman. She was
pretty, she was certainly sexy. She'd made the effort after I'd
drunk-dialed her the previous evening with a sudden offer of drinks
and maybe more.

When I opened my eyes, I receive the kind of
startling shock that might well have stopped my heart had I been a
couple of decades older.

Zoey stood over by the door, arms folded,
watching Taylor sucking my cock.

I jumped, of course, but could hardly move
with a blonde clamped over my thighs, lips locked around my
manhood.

Zoey looked stunning in a short white skirt
and yellow blouse, which seemed so unlike her as a fashion choice,
I would have probably said something if the situation hadn't been
so bizarre. Her glasses were slightly different, too - horn-rimmed
this time, though still small and elegant, they appeared slightly
softer on her face than the frames they'd replaced.

She did look terrifying to me, though I
suspect she would have looked terrifying in any outfit. Standing
there by the door, she didn't say anything, just watched with a
disdainful expression on her beautiful face, checking out the scene
and the bottle blonde currently servicing me on the bed. I couldn't
tell if she was going to shout at me or kiss me.

Taylor didn't even seem to notice - thinking
my gasp had been from her oral skills.

I just lay there for a moment, a rabbit
trapped in the headlights. My every cell seemed to cry out for the
strong brunette standing by the door, my every muscle clamoring for
her to come and take Taylor's place.

As the blonde continued sucking and licking
my cock, for some reason I saw Zoey's expression soften. Well, I
had walked out on her. We had been separated for some months by now
- we were certainly no longer an item. I had more right to be here
in my bedroom having my erection polished by another woman than
Zoey had the right to be standing in my bedroom at all.

For some reason, I had the sitcom "Friends"
running through my head - Ross Geller screaming "we were on a
break!" regarding his infidelity while in a lovers' tiff with his
long-term crush, Rachel Green.

We were on a break.

I made a slight move of the arms as though to
push myself up, so that I could stop Taylor and then actually deal
with this situation.

But Zoey gave a slight shake of her head.

Continue, her eyes told me.

What?

I shot a confused look back at her, but she
gave me another slight shake of the head, telling me not to stop, a
swoosh of the hand to signal I was to continue. And now she was
wandering over, circling the end of the bed watching the scene
before her, even checking out Taylor's butt and her oral
technique.

I was still confused, though having Zoey
there, meandering silently and gracefully around the bed while a
near-naked blonde bobbed up and down on my cock, I was at least
highly aroused.

Taylor was humming along, clearly happy that
she was apparently making me really hard now. Still I had no idea
what to say. My brain was more than slightly starved of blood, but
even so. Did I stop Taylor, demand that Zoey get out? Shout at her
for having no rights to come in, and so on?

But I didn't want Zoey to get out. I wanted
Taylor to get out. Oh Brandon be damned, I wanted Zoey more than
anything in the world.

My brown-haired goddess leaned over the bed,
and I was surprised again as the corners of her mouth turned up
into a quiet, mischievous smile. She looked at me, and gazed
closely at Taylor's rear, her pussy. Then she tucked her hair up
behind an ear, and gently perched down on the edge of the bed,
giving me a strangely imperious expression.

She seemed to warm my insides by several
degrees, just looking at me like that. It was as though she was
saying: you're still mine, Jones. But I forgive you this little
dalliance. Her eyes also seemed impressed that I had found myself
such a pretty little blonde to suck my cock.