Page 215 of The Dommes

In me?

A ginger kiss tugs on my bottom lip before Kathleen covers my chin, my throat in her possessive love. I’m lulled back down to my post-sex haze, where I lay prostrate on the floor, spread eagle, naked, and wanting her. So, this is how it feels, a voice in my head muses as she presses the length of her body against mine, the Avalon rubbing on my mound. One of them finally got a hold of you, Ira. This is for all the other women whose minds you blew with your thunder hips. God knows I’m wet enough.

Still, I’ve rarely been fucked like that. It’s not even something I deem submissive, necessarily. I just like to fuck. To penetrate. To take on that mantle when I’m in the bedroom, feeling like the biggest bitch in the room who makes women feel so good they don’t know what planet they’re on anymore. I’ve helped women come from just penetration for the first time, for fuck’s sake. I know it’s possible. I’ve seen Kathleen do it a dozen times because her clit was too out of the way to stimulate while searching for the center of her body. Some of us are that good! I’m kinda proud of that!

I’m really proud of that!

“Who was the last one to part these lovely waves you have between your legs, Ira?” she innocently asks. “With something bigger than their fingers.”

Good God, of course, she puts it that way. “I don’t remember their name.”

She laughs. “You’re kidding.”

“No.” I clear my throat, realizing once again that I’m lying naked and spread eagle on her living room floor. “Random hookup in LA. They barely spoke English. I was in the mood to experiment… so when we got back to their room and I realized what they were packing too, I decided to stay and try my luck instead of bailing. Felt like the… courteous?... thing to do.”

“Did you like it?”

I know this is part of the scene. Kathleen wants to fuck me, like that, and she’s attempting to draw out of me a fantasy that I might be harboring. One I may not even realize was deep down in my psyche, being someone like me, after all.

“Yeah.”

“What did you like about it?” Her sultry voice pulls me back in, her inquiry heavy enough to shake me up but her whole vibe is simply… pure. She’s not going to do anything I don’t consent to. That much I know. But she’ll taunt me. The prosthetic rubs along my slit, stimulating me just enough to make the rest of my body tender. “And how can I focus on that?”

“Guess it depends on what you get out of it, my Queen.”

“Oh, there is so much to enjoy on this end, isn’t there, Ira? Like the exquisite faces and sounds you are sure to make as I fuck you, knowing that I did that to you.”

I see how it is. She wants me to give her that. That intimate part of myself that very few will ever see again.

Fitting, isn’t it? I’ve taken from her. Taken, taken, taken. Now here I am, not just proving my love and devotion to her, but giving. My body, my propriety; my heart, my innermost desires.

Yes, I want you to fuck me, my Queen. Those are the words I should say. Instead, all I can manage is, “Can we at least not be on the floor?”

“Ah, of course.”

I think we’re going to the bedroom when she helps me up, but it’s her couch, covered in decorative pillows, that accepts my naked body as she pushes me forward like an indelicate doll. My arms instinctively wrap around one of those soft pillows as Kathleen rolls me halfway onto my back, my ass digging into the crease between the couch and its cushions.

She’s on me, kissing me, swallowing any drop of shame I may feel in a moment that does not call for it.

“Say it,” she whispers in my ear, hand on my pussy as I make the most pathetic, feminine sound anyone has ever heard me utter. “Say what you’re thinking, Ira. Tell your Queen what you desire, and she’ll make it come true.”

I give in. My arms wrap around her and bring her closer to me, her T-shirt delightfully soft against my nudity.

“Fuck me, Katie.” My gasps wreck me, but I let them flow. “Make me feel what you do.”

Her purr in my ear is accompanied by a knowing thrust between my legs. Just like that, I’m penetrated by the bestselling model on the Avalon website. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Instantly, I’m whisked away to another place. One that exists right here at this moment. Nowhere else. No when else. I don’t compare her to me. I don’t even compare her to the select few who have felt me like this. There’s no point. Because nobody does it like the woman you love.

She’s in me. I’m a part of her. I’m given a glimpse into her mind, her being, as she gently makes love to me again. I sense a desire to go harder, faster, rougher, but Kathleen refrains. I said the word Pink only a few minutes ago, but it’s now a foggy memory.

Because I’m gone.

Should I be amused – embarrassed? – that I orgasm again so quickly? Is it because I love her, and anything she does to me will make me come? Is it because deep down I have wanted this from a dominant woman for years? Or because I’m so loosened up that just paying attention to my most sexual places will make me cry out in erotic bliss?

Maybe it’s because she knows what the hell she’s doing. And here I am, taking it.

Freeing, isn’t it?

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