Текст книги "Save Us"
Автор книги: Cynthia Dane
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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
Just as someone approaches us, I get a text from Eva. “Ew. I need bleach for my brain. Thanks for the lovely image.”
“No problem,” I text back. “Maybe you learned something?”
“Ewwwwww I stopped watching once I realized what you’re doing. Girl, that’s Ian Mathers’s dick. Go brush your teeth.”
I turn off my phone, glancing up and catching the stupidest grin in the universe on my best friend’s face as her submissive friend crawls all over her.
“Guess I’ll have to take some notes from you in the future, Alison.”
I dump my phone in my clutch and look up at Lana Andrews, still making the rounds. Ian puts his arm around me, not that I need any protection from this woman. Not right now, anyway.
“Glad you could learn something,” I say, feeling Ian squeeze my knee. In what? Warning? Honey, I don’t care if you’re the most masterful Dom in the universe, you can’t stop me from defending myself. Noble of you to try to intervene on my behalf, however.
Lana’s mouth is twitching, and I can’t tell if she’s about to start laughing or snorting in derision. “So would now be an awkward time to mention the news I heard on the grapevine? I heard the council was about to support your little museum project.”
“Who did you hear that from?” Ian asks.
“My friend Colleen from the council. She and a few others have been to The Grand since the reopening and, protestors aside, are impressed.” Lana looks at me. “I guess you’ll be getting to start your project soon after all. Good for you.” Finally, she lets a smile cross her wrinkle-free face. “Looks like all sorts of good things are happening for you recently. I’m kind of jealous.”
I see the way she eyes Ian, and in his post-climax euphoria, he’s reveling in it. I slap one arm across his chest and let a flicker of Kathryn the Domme overcome my demeanor. “He’s mine, Andrews. And I’m not in the mood to share.”
Ian chuckles. “You heard the woman. Maybe next time.”
Fat chance, buddy. If I’m having a fun time with another couple, it is definitely not going to be the Andrews. How about some standards?
“Touché. Well, if you two are going to run around this club fucking in front of everyone, at least make sure it’s as hot as what happened there.”
“Oh, didn’t you hear?” Ian says. “Kathryn and I are due on stage for her grand debut as the prettiest submissive in this desolate wasteland they call sin.”
The look she gives me is practically predatory.
“Looking forward to it.” That’s the last thing she says before waving her fingers at us and stepping away. I am neither flummoxed nor inspired, so I guess that’s good.
“Ready?” Ian kisses my forehead. Now that inspires me. “It’s about time this club knows who you really are.”
Who I really am.
Who I really am.
I was afraid of my real identity a few weeks ago. Back when I went to Ian and told him I wanted to explore my submissive side. I didn’t think I could handle it. I thought I would die, spiritually and emotionally. Now? It feels like nothing. When I think of submitting, I think only of Ian, the man taking me by the hand to help me off the couch before latching onto my leash and bringing me forward.
As long as it’s him, I can do anything my heart and body desires.
People part as we walk through the club, Ian holding my leash over his shoulder with that look of, “See what I have and you don’t?” all over his face. It shouldn’t endear me to him as much as it does. This man’s possessiveness once frightened me. Who was he to say that I was his? Now I realize it’s not about controlling my life or stripping me of my agency. Ian isn’t that kind of man.
No, what he offers me as my Dom is something I’m about to share with the whole world.
Ian signals to the same hostess from earlier that we would like to begin. She nods, finishes her current job, and hops on the stage while we wait in the wings.
The nerves are starting to settle in again. Ian takes my wrist as the lights go down and the stage is lit up in an array of purples, blues, and hints of red.
“God save us,” I mutter.
He sucks in his breath. “Yes, we need all the holy intervention we can get.”
Don’t I know it.
Chapter 29
KATHRYN
We forego any formal introduction. Not that people usually do introductions around here. Usually they hop on the stage and get to it, but for Dom or sub debuts, the club usually likes to do a bit of a talk so everyone knows exactly what’s going on.
Ahahaha. As if people don’t know what’s going on tonight.
Ian stands tall, unwavering on the stage as he yanks on my leash. I take the first step, feeling every eye in the room move in my direction. Some of them think I’m hot. Some of them think I’m crazy. All of them think this is the most exciting thing to happen all night.
My knees shake in my boots. I hope nobody can tell.
The only sounds I hear are the beating of my heart and the jingle of my leash and jewelry. The audience is reverently silent. Thankfully, the lights keep me from seeing any faces beyond those closest to us, and I don’t know who most of those people are.
“Kneel.” Ian pushes my shoulders, forcing me to my knees at the edge of the stage. My hands clasp the wood beneath me. Suddenly I feel very small, Not in a bad way, but…
Vulnerable. I’ve never been vulnerable in front of so many people before.
“Most of you know this woman.” Ian’s voice is loud, carrying throughout the club known for its fantastic acoustics if you’re standing on stage. No doubt that even the people sitting in the back of the second story can hear him with that booming voice. “She’s got quite the reputation in this club, doesn’t she?”
A few whistles and claps make their way to my ears. I remain still, staring at the floor. My ponytail hangs limply on my shoulder.
“Everyone here knows Kathryn Alison for being the biggest Domme around.” Ian removes his jacket. He’s worn one of my favorite shirts, the pink silk one that he leaves unbuttoned on top. As he rolls up his cuffs and looks down at me, I feel that wash of lust take me over. Why isn’t he kissing me? Why aren’t his hands all over me? Why, for the love that is good and pure, isn’t his cock fucking me?
Oh, right, we’re in public.
“Dommes get a hard break around here, don’t they ladies?”
More cheers.
“You lovely pioneers of ass-kicking have a lot weighing on your shoulders. You always have to be on. We men expect such weird things from you, no matter how many times you tell us you’re not interested.” My Dom strokes the top of my head, weaving his fingers into my hair. “So it’s only natural that we wonder what it’s like to dominate such beautiful women.”
He yanks my ponytail so hard that I’m instantly looking up into the lights, a cry of pain tearing through my body.
The room is absolutely silent.
“When Kathryn came to me, I knew what she wanted. What she needed.” Even though my scalp burns, Ian soothes me when his other hand cups beneath my chin. My head rests against his stiffening cock. “Of course I was flattered that she wanted to submit to me. We hooked up a few times before that, but you all know how it is… two personalities like ours clashing together isn’t always the smartest idea. So imagine my surprise when Kathryn Alison showed up at my door and said she would hang up her whip if it meant sexual salvation.”
Inside my chest, my heart beats furiously. I’m aching in lust for this man. I’m burning in apprehension for myself. Although I can’t see the reactions out in the crowd, I know they’re wondering how much truth there is to Ian’s tale. It’s not that far off, is it?
He needs to keep going, though. Don’t leave the story hanging where it makes me look desperate and noncommittal, Ian.
“I’ve been a Dom for many years,” Ian continues. He eases his grip and pinches my ear. “I’ve seen all sorts of reasons women turn to submitting. Some love the sexual thrill. Others want to explore a darker side to their sexuality. Then there are women like Kathryn.”
He squeezes my shoulders, both hands encircling my throat, gently, but the pressure is so great that I’m convinced I need to struggle to breathe.
“Kathryn came to me because she needed release.”
Ian does not elaborate. Yet his tender touch sends waves of understanding through my body. Yes, Ian. I came to you for the release I craved for so long but didn’t know how to pursue. I sank deeper into the comfort of dominating without even considering how liberating it could be on the other side. Not until you showed me how life-changing it could be did I really make a turn for the better.
It helps that I also love you so much.
“Don’t look at this woman and assume she’s confused or misunderstood. Don’t judge her for her previous actions and those of today. I am humbled and honored that she has chosen to serve me. It will be my life’s goal to make sure she is taken care of and properly treated as a sub should be, but don’t think this makes her a submissive woman. I’m afraid the next time you see her in the boardroom she’ll still be slamming her boot into your balls.”
I think I hear laughter.
“The woman you see before you debuts tonight as a sub… my sub. No other man will have her the way I do, but we can give you a taste of what it means to be us. A part of my Katie’s journey on the path to pure release is confessing everything that makes her… well…”
Ian steps away, leaving me alone at the front of the stage. When I feel him near me again, it’s to have my arms spread above my head and attached to two elastic binds hanging from the ceiling. The tension in my shoulders instantly brings me pleasure.
Or is it the sensation of not being able to escape?
“Tell them, Kathryn. Tell them why you’re here tonight.”
My words are lost. I know what words I want to say, but getting my mouth, my tongue, and my lips to cooperate is like trying to wake up when the rain falls outside and the man you love is wrapped tight around you. The kind of mornings I want to experience every day for the rest of my life.
“I’m here because I need to be freed.”
I don’t expect to cry. Yet one hot tear makes its way down my cheek, and I’m blinded by the lights shining above me. Ian pats my head and touches the top of my spine.
“And how does binding you like this free you, my darling? Seems like it would do the opposite.”
I’m too hung up on him calling me “darling” in front of these people. When his words finally sink in, I respond, “They keep me in place, so I don’t have to worry about going anywhere.”
“Why’s that?”
I know that this is therapy when we’re alone, but confessing my real feelings in front of an audience is otherworldly. It’s like I’m preaching to the choir for half of them, while the others are leaning in intently, waiting to hear my eternal truths.
“People always want something from me. They want me to drop everything I’m doing to come fix their problems. I don’t have a choice most of the time. What am I supposed to do? I can’t not go. But when I’m tied up, I don’t have to go anywhere. Because I can’t. All I need to do is sit still and finally rest.”
Something stiff touches my back. It’s a crop.
There are two layers of clothes between my skin and that crop, and even though I know Ian would never strike me there, I still tremble. Having that implement of therapy touch me is enough to make me moan. I don’t, however. Not in front of these people.
“You’re under a lot of stress, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Tell us.”
I take in a deep breath. “Under a lot of stress” is something nearly everyone in this building can say. We’re rich. We’re powerful. You may think that’s a ticket to happiness, and while it affords us many freedoms, it does not protect us from anxiety and stress. Last year a patriarch jumped from his fiftieth floor window because a deal fell through. It didn’t bankrupt him. Financially, he was still fine, but I knew his daughter, and she said that her father often felt unworthy because he wasn’t perfect. Perfectionism runs rampant with people I know. I don’t want to be like that when I get older.
“My parents wanted a boy…” Why I decided to start here with my confession, I have no idea. I suppose it’s the root of everything, isn’t it? “When they only got me, it was a blessing and a curse. I love being a woman, but even as I am, the disadvantages are too much. You can’t understand, sir. People don’t take me seriously. I’m only as good as my ability to dominate other men, both in and out of the bedroom. I will always be compared to men, and I will always lose.”
The crop curls around my ear and strokes my cheek. “You forced yourself to be strong, even when you wanted to be vulnerable.”
“Yes. I missed out on a lot of opportunities to explore that side of myself.”
I can practically hear the arrogance in his haughty voice. “And what made you decide to explore the role of a submissive, Kathryn?”
Yeah, I bet you’d love this public ego stroke, Ian. “Someone put the idea in my head a while ago. It made sense. So I started my journey, and here I am.”
“Yes, here you fucking are.” The crop taps my cheek. “Making up for all that lost time. With me.”
Inch by mind-numbing inch, the crop makes its way down my chest, touching my stomach, my thigh, and then around to my ass. Tension multiplies in the audience. They want to see him strike me. That’s why they’re here, after all.
In truth, I want him to smack me with the crop too.
Not here. Not like this. This isn’t the time for that. Yet.
“Say it in front of all these people, Kathryn. Free your emotions once and for all. Tell us what you’ve been hiding in your heart even from your closest confidants.”
I bite my lip as it begins to tremble. Let go of my emotions? Let them run free from my mouth. Course over my tongue and spill for all to see? Bare my heart and leave it exposed to the elements? In front of this neck-biting crowd?
“I feel guilty because I wasn’t born a boy.”
“And?”
“I feel like it’s my fault my mother had a breakdown and moved. I should have tried harder in school so I could prove to my father that I am worthy to take over the company one day. And I… even though I love to Top, I still feel guilty that I am here doing this, because now everyone is going to look at me differently. Treat me differently! Aren’t you? Aren’t you all?”
Even Ian is silent. I doubt he thought I would dive into that.
The audience wasn’t expecting it either. The few people I see are transfixed on me, eyes clouding in thought and consideration. Did they even know they would judge me? I bet not. I bet they were going to laugh, get hard or wet, and move on with their lives. I don’t care. Deep in their minds, they would judge me. How do I know this?
Because I would have judged me.
“Face it. The only way a woman is taken seriously around here is if she’s constantly busting ass and balls alike. The moment we decide to serve for a change, to let go of everything we’re hauling around, we’re seen as weak. Do we treat men the same way? Do we look at male subs and assume that they can’t hold their own out in the real world? I would ask you to think about the amount of female subs you know who run businesses, volunteer, teach, and take over the fucking world every damned day.”
“All right, Katie…”
“No!” I shake in my binds, more tears falling down my face as Ian gives me a warning tap on the ass with the crop. “I’m not done!” Before he can interrupt me, I talk over my Dom. “I’m not any less because I switch now. I’ll always be a Domme. But even if I made a complete turn from Domme to sub, I would still be strong and capable. So don’t think that because I’m up here like this that I’m not worthy of your respect. I didn’t plan on this. I didn’t know this was inside me until recently. And…” I swallow, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. “I never planned on falling in love with a Dom.”
One of the women sitting up front clasps her hand over her mouth. She looks like she’s going to have a super hormonal cry, but the man she’s with rubs her back until she puts her hand down, lips wibbling, but eyes dry.
My binds come undone, making me fall forward and brace myself on my palms. Ian hooks his hands beneath my shoulders and lifts me up. The leash around my neck pulls at me, and I’m led to the other side of the stage, my jacket pulled off my body until I stand in nothing but my corset and boots.
Ian is rougher than I expected. He forces me over a leather bench, my wrists bound to a handle and my feet latched into a spreader. He doesn’t say anything. Nobody says anything. More than once the crop taps my ass as it sticks out in the air behind me. More warning shots.
I’ve been a bad girl. Tonight I’ve interrupted my Dom countless times. It’s like my training didn’t even matter.
Ian, however, looks those little things over unless he’s really in a mood. He said so himself that he finds my insolence hot to a point. Except now we’re in public. We’re on a stage with everyone watching. The attention is off my switching and how Ian Mathers can’t keep his sub under control.
“Sorry, but you know I have to,” he whisper into my ear. This is right before his hand lands on my ass, sending pain as bright as the day through my body.
I yelp.
“I thought I had trained you better, my love.” Ian says this louder, for the audience to hear. “If I thought you would behave like this, I would have kept you at home.” Another spank. “These nice people are watching and hoping to see an obedient sub. Now, are you going to play by my rules, or do I have to keep punishing you until you can’t continue?”
Blood covers my taste buds… I’m biting my lip too hard. “I’ll obey!” This cry is almost wiped out by the pain I feel. And this is from his hand… with a corset covering my ass!
“That’s what we like to hear.” The crop delicately touches me in lieu of Ian’s hand.
I’m not soothed. I know that as soon as he gets going with that thing, the pain will be even more intense than the flat of his hand.
“Since you’re being so obedient…” Ian takes a step back with the crop. “I think it’s time we all finally freed you.”
“We all,” he says.
“What do you say?’ I hear the crop whiz through the air as Ian opens his arms to the audience. “Will you support this woman feeling the same fucking shit you assholes all feel?”
I don’t hear anything at first. Then, as if a wave passes through everyone, there is muted applause and a few cheers of support. These types of people aren’t going to get too involved. They prefer to sit and quietly watch shows, not join in… so to hear as much as I have means a lot. I wonder if any of my fellow Dommes are showing me support.
It doesn’t matter. Because Ian is with me, and by channeling the energy of the audience, he’s going to free me.
Possess me.
Take me.
Even though we planned this… even though we went over it countless times in the days leading up to this night, I’m still startled when the crop hits my ass and sends shock through my skin. I’m numb. I’m weary. My inexperienced body is already losing purchase as I fight for God knows what.
Every strike represents one of my insecurities being purged from my body. This I know. This I gladly accept with famished cries that echo in the room.
“What’s the first thing you want eradicated?” Ian pulls my ponytail, forcing me to look into the lights. “What are we freeing you from?”
“My guilt,” I say, exasperated. My ass must be beet red beneath my corset.
“Be more specific. You need to think concrete ideas for this to work.”
I struggle to find the words. “That I’m not good enough to run my family’s business.”
Crack! My ass is on fucking fire!
It works. That toxic thought I had is blasted from my brain. I can practically see it spill from my ear, snivel on the floor, and then disappear over the side of the stage. My mind is liberated from that crippling fear of disappointing my family.
“What else?”
My fingers are curled into the bench, turning red, then white. “That I’m not womanly enough. Maybe I don’t want kids. Maybe I don’t even want to get married someday. Is it so bad to want to live alone from time to time?”
Crack!
Shit! I fucking feel that one! What, Ian, did I strike a nerve with talk of marriage? Or was it the kids? I remember how much your mother wouldn’t shut the hell up about grandbabies. You’re an only child, right? Well, so am I. Suck it up. We can ruin our family lines together, the Bonnie and Clyde of genealogy, the Paul Bunyan and Babe the Big Blue Ox of family trees… well, shit, that’s nowhere near as sexy, but you get my point, Ian. You get my fucking point.
“What else, Katie?”
Once my legs stop shaking from the last impact, I say, “I feel guilty about turning into a switch. What if the other Dommes don’t want to work with me anymore? What if I’m turning traitor? I don’t want to lose my friends and acquaintances because I’m finally embracing who I am. I can be a Domme and your sub.”
Crack!
I think I’ve got the point now.
My ass is raw beneath my corset. Ian balances the crop on my back and steps away, turning to the audience. He slowly unbuttons his shirt.
I contain a new cry. He’s going to do it.
He’s going to fulfill his promise.
“I have a confession to make too,” Ian says, letting his shirt hang open. “I’ve been selfish. A real asshole, depending on who you ask.” He glances in the direction of Eva’s table. “From the beginning, I’ve asked Katie to do nothing but give to me, and I’ve done nothing but take from her. I took from her until she barely knew who she was anymore. For that, I am sorry. But, you see, I had some things to figure out about myself as well. For one, I had to ask myself how far I was willing to compromise with a Domme. Was it love, or was it my dick acting like a proud fool for doing what it’s done to her?”
My body is shaking again, but it’s not from subsiding pain. It’s anticipation.
When Ian takes off his shirt and tosses it aside, I’m grinning.
There, on his bare back, is the mark I left on him with semi-permanent body ink. It’s not subtle. I practically graffitied that man’s skin with the intent of showing the world…
…That he belongs to me.
That I’ve marked him.
There are some murmurs loud enough for me to hear. I don’t know what they’re saying. I don’t know their tone. All I know is that Ian Mathers is gorgeous with my initials emblazoned on his back, the same mark I’ve left on other men before. They all know what it means.
I’ve Topped him. Maybe only once. Maybe every fucking night. They don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Ian did this for me. It may not have been what he craved for deep inside, but he did it for me. He gave back. He explored that side of him with me. He asked for it. He played along. He proved that he’s listening and will do anything to have me.
If that’s not fucking love, then what the hell is!
Ian snatches the crop off my back and stands behind me. “What man wouldn’t want to worship this goddess? What prince wouldn’t sit at the feet of this queen? She may bend before me today, but Kathryn Alison has not forgotten her other self. That’s how much I love her.”
Tears hit my chin. I can’t believe this is happening.
“I love you too,” I say. “I love you so much it makes me feel guilty and ashamed, because how can I love a Dom?”
Crack!
Fuck. Me.
“I’ve asked myself the same question,” Ian says, breathless. “How could I fall in love with a Domme?”
This time when the crop hits my ass, I feel the frustration in both of us.
Somebody save us.
“None of that matters now.” The crop lands on the floor beside my feet. Ian unties me from the bench, stands me up, and turns me toward the audience. I feel like a meat-shield. “Because at the end of the day you’re still my sub, and you belong to me.”
I sink to my knees. Ian holds my arms up. My ass is so sore I can barely lean on it.
“Do you hear that?” Ian’s voice is so loud that it shakes me to my core. Or maybe I’m hyper-sensitive to everything going on now. “It doesn’t matter what you think of us. Because we only need each other.”
His large hands cover my chest, my throat, the bottom of my face. No matter what, I’m touched by Ian, the man who has declared his love for me and his intent to possess every part of my being.
Yeah, I think I could keep him for a while. The rest of my life, sure.
“This woman is mine. I’ll spend however long it takes to free her from the guilt and shame she feels deep inside. In turn, I’m sure she’ll purge me of my insecurities too.”
The audience is silent.
“What do you think, Katie? Are you up for the challenge?”
Somehow, through the pain and the burning agony of my guilt, I say, “I thought you would never ask… sir.”
He pulls me up into his arms, my own looping around his neck as he bends me down and kisses me, hard. Here we are, two fucked up people trying to make the best of our personalities and situation. We know it will be hard. We know there will be moments where our attitudes clash and we’ll need to cool off for a while. I’ll feel insecure and he’ll overcompensate. But, you know, there is no such thing as the perfect couple.
I think we’re pretty darn close, though.
So does the audience, who politely applauds.
As my leg brushes against Ian’s erection – what, you think he’s gonna whack me with a crop that much and not get rock hard? – he lifts me off the ground and carries me off the stage. I may have my initials emblazoned in bigass letters on his back, but right now I solely belong to him and rely on whatever comfort he can give me.
You know, like crazy intense sex.
Ian doesn’t wait to get us a room. This is the man who didn’t bother to pick up our clothes we dropped on the stage. Nope. He’s taking me to an empty hallway near the restrooms, where I’m shoved against the wall, my legs spreading around his waist and his cock driving into me once the crotch of my corset is opened.
We’ve come full circle. From the closet of the gala twelve years ago, to that corner in his family’s office building, Ian and I have the kind of sex we’re best accustomed to. Him, taking me against the wall, and me, encouraging him to worship every part of my body.
You know that cliché trite about how two people seem physically made for each other? Well, I won’t give you any lines about how his cock fills me so perfectly that it’s like he was blessed with that damned thing just for this moment. I won’t tell you that the way he thrusts, holds me, and plants his lips on mine is the exact way I love and need. I won’t even tell you that hearing and seeing him become so consumed with me is like ascending the stratosphere and marching my way to heaven.
I won’t tell you these things because they are cliché and trite. That, and I don’t really believe that two people are “made” for each other. I believe that we find each other through happy accidents. Like the happy accident that made me born the privileged daughter of a multi-millionaire, now billionaire. Or the happy accident that was Ian’s mother inviting me to work on a project with her son, a man I’ve fancied for a long time but never thought to pursue.
Thank God he held my hand that night.
“Ian!” My sore ass is slammed against this wall, but shit I don’t care. I’m wet, I’m ready, and for the love of everything quaking inside me I need this man to finish every job he started twelve years ago. I don’t even care if he comes inside me anymore. For fuck’s sake, I let this man come in my ass!
His tongue meanders from my mouth to my throat. His thrusts slow, yet he’s still merciless, pounding me as my nails sink deep into his bare skin. I’m about to scream.
Instead, I let out three consecutive wails of tortured pleasure. My core clenches around Ian’s cock, and I swear to fucking Aphrodite or whatever bitch is in charge of this shit that I’m not letting go until he gives me every last drop of him.
I’m not disappointed.
Hey, maybe it’s me. As in maybe it’s me being so fucking irresistible that this man, who has declared his love for me very publically, comes the hardest I’ve ever heard him. Not just his voice, either. I’m drenched inside, my body opening more and more to take what he’s unloading in me. If I purged myself out there with a crop, then he’s here purging himself with my pussy. Can’t say I find that unfair.
Quite the opposite. It’s so seriously hot that after his second shot I’m screaming, my head smacking against the wall as I hold onto his shoulders for dear life. I’m convinced I’m going to fall to the floor, even though this man I was stupid enough to fall in love with has me held fast against the wall for the sole purpose of pumping his cock into me.
The last thing I taste is his tongue on mine. The last thing I hear is his languished groan as he finally comes down from his orgasmic high. The last thing I feel is his cock easing out of me, leaving behind an emptiness I don’t want to acknowledge. An emptiness left gaping enough make the floor beneath me a mess. It’s me, it’s him – all right, mostly him – and it’s 100% us.
“Fuck it all,” Ian groans, slamming his hand against the wall as his head falls against my shoulder. “I’m in chaos.”
“Aw, my poor baby.” Even though I’m sore, even though I’m exhausted, and even though the hole Ian Mathers decided to stretch without any warning is making its own mess all over the place, I get back on my knees and wrap my lips around his softening cock. It’s the least I could do for my Dom.
He grunts from the overstimulation so soon after a hard orgasm. I’m gentle, avoiding his most sensitive areas as I clean him from his shaft and tip. He gets hard again a little, but not enough for him to take me again. That’s more than fine. As his sub, I’m more than happy to serve him like this without expecting any reciprocation.
Hey, I mostly do it out of love.
“Come here.” He yanks me up, kissing me, unashamed of tasting himself all over my mouth. Our lower halves may be too tired to continue, but our upper halves are more than eager to make love… regardless of how rough or ridiculous it may be. “Did you mean what you said about feeling guilty about being a woman?”
I can’t believe he’s bringing this up now, but I go with it. “You know what I mean…”
“Yeah, but if you weren’t a woman, we would have never found each other. So don’t feel ashamed about that, Katie. You being a woman is one of the best things about you.”
