Page 223 of The Dommes

I break off our kiss and pick her drink off the nearby table. Without asking for permission, like the insolent sub I will always be, I swallow some of it before handing it to Ira. She finishes it off, puts the glass back down, and pulls me down onto the couch.

As a Domme, I have never done anything in the world of exhibitionism. I’m usually not into that. I don’t need people watching me fuck to get off. On days when it doesn’t make me shudder, I feel completely indifferent about it. I guess it’s because I’m a woman from local social circles. Not one people got to know through my pussy being displayed in a club. Hey, I’ve got nothing against those girls, especially those who married their rich-ass dominants and now run half those circles. But it ain’t me.

Until tonight. Until I needed a distraction from the world around me, and Ira is always the most convenient form of escape. Whenever I need to let go of the pressures pushed upon me, I think of her, go to her, or, you know, fuck her.

I don’t know where this making out is going, but little by little, I forget the bullshit and merely exist for my Domme. Wow, this submitting shit is addictive.

“Do you want to hear something?” Ira breaks off our kiss so she can nibble on my ear, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. “Remember how you told me that night… you know, that night here at the club…”

Of course, I remember. It was the night this whole debacle began.

“Well, you told me that you made that woman pleasure herself for you. Did you think of me, by chance?”

I don’t say anything. I may have. I may have not.

“Because I thought of you even before I caught you watching me with Stephanie.”

Oh, I remember. I remember sitting up where Eve is now, looking down in this direction, and seeing Stephanie’s pretty blond hair give Ira good enough head to haul her off to a private room. No, neither of us want to think of her, but hearing Ira say that she was thinking of me…

“How long have you wanted me, Mistress?” My hand goes back to her thigh, massaging her flesh through her pants. “You make it sound like your mission has been getting me in bed.”

“Only for the past few months. I had forgotten how much you turn me on until we started working together.” She takes my hand and pushes it onto her prosthetic. “You trying to tell me you never felt the same way?”

“Oh, Ira.” My hand closes around her, fingers searching for the zipper. She shudders beneath me, nearly breathless, and I resist the urge to kiss her before I finish my spiel. “I wanted you from the first moment we met all those years ago. Remember? It was me who seduced you. I only made it seem like your idea.”

“Is that what happened?” Hair twists around her fingers as she caresses me. “When I danced with you that night, all I could think about was kissing you. All right, and fucking you, but I was seventeen. I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking even if I wanted to.”

“And it’s different now?”

Ira ignores that. “I’m sorry things ended up the way they did. If they had gone better…”

“If we had managed to have sex, things wouldn’t have changed much. I wanted to hook up with you, Ira, not date you. Besides…” Why, hello there, Avalon. You think I don’t know exactly how to rub those ridges against her mound by now? Ha! I could teach a class on how to pleasure Ira Mathison. “I don’t think we would have been a good couple back then. We both needed to grow and mature before we could handle one another.”

“Isn’t that the truth…”

I kiss her cheek, reveling in her cologne. “Relax and let me take care of you, Mistress.”

Earlier I mentioned that I’ve never had sex of any kind in public. That remains true… until this moment. Those hundreds of eyes are burning into my back as I move to the floor, my knees digging into a patch of carpet placed beneath this couch, my head bowing between Ira’s legs. She fantasized about me being Stephanie all those weeks ago? She has no fucking clue what the difference would be.

At first, my eyes are closed, blocking out the voices and stares around me as I pleasure the one I’ve come to love and want to serve once in a while. My tongue goes on a journey as my hand grabs her by the thigh, steadying her, bringing her closer to me as my ass rises into the air and my hair spills over Ira’s leg.

She strokes the top of my head, groaning, certainly thinking of Stephanie for a split second and comparing me to her. I know I win, hands down, no contest, and I am such an awesome girlfriend.

How many people are watching? I don’t care. They could be getting off, or they could be so confused that I, of all people, am doing this. Shit, maybe this corner of the club is so dark they can’t even see. Almost seems like a waste.

Then I open my eyes. I drink in what I can see of the club. To my right is a wall, but to my left I catch a glimpse of a few nosy busybodies watching intently, their tight smiles showing how much they love my show. The fact I don’t know these people makes it hotter. Safer. They probably know who I am, but what does it matter when all I want to do is devour my lover?

She lets me take control of this moment. Ira does tug on my hair, however. I will know who my King is. I will know that she’s the one in charge around here.

I will know that I am hers.

“Look at how she worships me,” I can practically hear her say. “Does it matter if she dominates other people? For me, she gets on her knees and enjoys the other side for a change. There’s no shame. Leave her alone. If you come for her character or try to imply she’s less than you thought before, I will destroy you.”

Thank you, Ira.

I wonder if this is going anywhere. Or is she going to keep sitting there, petting my hair and drinking? To my mild horror, she summons a hostess and asks for a refill. “Make hers a double. She’s going to need it.” For fuck’s sake, that’s the last thing I hear before the hostess walks away.

Okay, so that hostess probably sees fifty bouts of oral sex a night and doesn’t even register me going down on my Domme. But holy shit! That was an intense moment.

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