Page 92 of The Dommes

Towel wrapped around my body, Ira bends down and sweeps my feet out from beneath me. My hair falls from the clasp, letting it clatter to the bathroom floor as Ira Fucking Mathison once again half-carries me to her room.

I’m not afraid. I’m warm and relaxed, and she’s smiling as if she’s won some great prize.

Me.

Don’t get me wrong. Ira isn’t some super bodybuilder who can pick up fully-grown and average-weighted women like it’s nothing. Oh, she can pick me up, but I can tell any farther than her room and she would have some problems. Like, first in line at the emergency room problems.

It’s okay. We only need to go as far as her room, where she lays me on her bed and climbs on top of me.

It’s dark in here. Not black as night, but the candles from the bathroom aren’t bright enough to illuminate this room. It’s enough for me to see her outline, the golden glow of her skin, and the countenance of pleasure she sports.

She’s so damn beautiful, and to think that she’s all mine tonight…

No number of Ms. Beautifuls at the club would be enough to give me the feeling I have. Not that I know what this feeling is.

Maybe it’s… love?

No time to think about it. I’m suddenly awash in heat and desire as Ira smothers me with her body, her mouth on mine, and her tongue making an unreal descent down my throat. Her palms hold me down – gently – push into my hair and cover me all over. I swear she must have five hands. They’re everywhere, rubbing my flesh, squeezing my extra fat, and making me feel like the most beautiful, most desirable woman in the world.

I moan so soon. With my legs spread around her, I can feel my arousal ease from me.

I want to be lost in these motions. I want to fade into obscurity, where all I have to think about is her voice as she climaxes, her body shuddering, her words dissipating into my ear. I want to only know what it feels like to be made love to – to make love to someone back. I want it all because I’m a greedy woman who isn’t happy if I don’t have everything at once.

Except Ira ruins it for a single second. She bites my nipple, making me moan so loudly that it feels verboten. Then she licks my earlobe, her voice grating.

“I’m taking you, Katie. I’m going to fuck you until you know you’re mine. Again.”

These shudders I feel aren’t of pleasure. I’m flashing back to the last time we had sex, when that voice inside of me betrayed my trust. It said I wanted it. It said I wouldn’t have a problem letting her claim me. It lied.

“Okay…” I want to feel her skin inside me – that, at least, was exhilarating. But… “Just your body, okay? I only want what we’ve got right now.”

She’s kissing my throat, hard, leaving a mark that I’ll have to cover for days. “That’s what I had in mind. We can save our other preferences for some other time. Although…” Great. What is it now? “I wouldn’t mind coming on you. While I’m on top.”

Her voice is droll, but in the dim candlelight, I can see that classic Ira Mathison smirk on her face. “Depends what you mean by that, I guess.” I know what she means because there are talented women in this world who can get… very excited. And messy. It’s not like I didn’t get a preview at the symphony, but that was hardly on purpose.

And on me? Like I’m her receptacle of pleasure? The one who’s supposed to coo and encourage her to give me more? No, I’m the one who usually does that. When I’m with someone else, even another woman, they’re this… doe-eyed baby bird I’ve just defiled with my orgasm. One they can’t get enough of, because they’re built that way, and I’m the one who…

“You have nothing to be afraid of. This isn’t BDSM, darling,” Ira says, interrupting my spiral of intrusive thoughts. “This is me wanting to share my most intimate thing with you. Just like this whole night. I’m not your Domme. I’m the one you’re making love with.”

“I don’t know…”

“Babe.” That tone is almost admonishing, yet I gravitate toward it. Ira, you’re destroying me. “We can’t move forward with anything else until we get past this.”

“This what?

“Katie… this you constantly fighting me because you can’t be on the bottom to save your life, even though your words and your body keep telling me that you want it.”

I know she’s right. When we have a scene soon enough, she’ll want to do one of the most basic things a Domme does. Namely, she’ll want to perform her version of claiming her partner, and I’ll have to be able to handle it. Even if it means a judicious shower afterward.

It seems so simple. It’s not simple for me.

“Do you want my cunt, Katie?”

I close my eyes, feeling her all around me. Her scent. Her body. Her warm voice pushing me to my limits. “I want you inside me…” I’m empty between the legs. Ira’s hovering dangerously close, fingers ready, itching to get in and fuck my stupid brains out. She takes my hand and brings it between her thighs as well, urging me to fuck her too. I haven’t been inside her quite like that yet. I’ve toyed with it, come close, teased her one or two inches in while eating her out, but… I’ve yet to feel her inner walls close in on me.

When I think of it that way…

“Katie…” Her kisses return to my skin, overwhelming me with a burning need to be conjoined. Everything inside me aches to know her. To feel her. To take what she has and transform myself into someone I barely know. “Katie!”

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