Page 10 of Mine

FulfillingDominance: You’re obeying me so well, I know it. Can feel it. You want to make me happy, don’t you, because making me happy soothes something inside you.

“Yes,” I say around my fingers. I don’t know if it’s my mood or if it’ll feel as real with him if we ever meet in person, but what he’s explaining to me is exactly what I’ve desired.

FulfillingDominance: Spit in your other hand. Use it to jerk yourself off. You may come at any time, but I want you to keep sucking me while you jack your dick. Can you do that for me?

“Yes, Sir.” God, how I wish he could hear me.

I do as he says, spitting in one hand and reaching for my dick. I push two fingers into my mouth, jerking and sucking, doing it all for Sir because it’s what he wants.

The tingle in my gut grows and spreads out until my vision blurs and I go off like a firework, shooting all over my hand, then I collapse against the bed.

“Thank you, Sir,” I say into the empty room, wishing he was here. I’m relaxed, pleasured, but wish I wasn’t alone.

I wipe my hand on the shirt I’d taken off, then type.

CravingMore: Thank you, Sir. That was incredible. I was good for you?

It should feel like a silly question. I didn’t do anything for him, not really, but I need him to say yes, need to be what he wants.

FulfillingDominance: You were very good for me. Perfect. Climb into bed and set the laptop beside you. I’m going to stay online with you and make sure you’re okay.

I nearly melt. I hadn’t realized I’d been afraid he would log off right away until he reassured me he wouldn’t.

I scramble into the bed, pull the covers over me, and let my computer rest on my thighs.

CravingMore: Thank you, Sir.

FulfillingDominance: You’re very welcome. Was that what you needed?

CravingMore: Yes. So much.

FulfillingDominance: What was your favorite part?

Oh. My favorite part? I haven’t played with many Doms—I don’t have a lot of experience—so maybe it’s normal to be asked that question, but no one ever has before.

CravingMore: I want to say all of it, but I have a feeling you’re expecting more than that… The obeying, I guess. Knowing I was doing exactly what you wanted, even though you wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t. And…and maybe that if anyone saw me, it would be embarrassing, that I was humiliating myself by sucking my fingers and rubbing the mattress. I did that for you, and knowing that almost makes me feel high.

A few minutes go by, and fear skyrockets inside me, making me tremble. Did I do something wrong? The last thing I want is to fuck this up with the first Dom who has made the wires inside me connect.

FulfillingDominance: Your reply is more satisfying than I have words for. If I could have crafted a response to that question for myself, for my needs in a sub, it would have been that.

My heart nearly jumps out of my chest, making me feel like I’m soaring. I want that more than anything—to make Sir proud. He might not be mine, and I don’t know if this will ever happen again, but he’s given me exactly what I need.

CravingMore: Thank you. That means so much to me. This… It’s what I’ve been looking for but haven’t been able to find.

FulfillingDominance: How much experience do you have?

CravingMore: I’ve met with four Doms, and none of them made me feel like what we just did. It was only once for each of them except the first man. We had two scenes together because I thought I was doing something wrong and wanted to try again. I’ve gone on dates with othermen looking for this, but it didn’t feel right, so I didn’t have a scene with them.

FulfillingDominance: That’s very smart of you. If you’re not feeling right about a situation, you should never give power to a person. I get the feeling you’re younger than me. How old are you?

Fear spikes sharply in my chest. I don’t know how old he is either. Honestly, I can’t believe I didn’t ask. I’ve always been more attracted to older men, so it’s usually one of my first questions. But something in Sir’s words tells me that my being younger might not be a good thing to him. The thought feels like a weight on my chest, like what I want is dangling right in front of me but just out of reach, and my answer could pull it even further away.

CravingMore: Twenty-five.

Guilt hits me, but it’s only three years. It’s not that big of a deal to lie about three years. If we meet, I can pass for that age, but hopefully, it’ll sound better than twenty-two.

CravingMore: Is that okay?

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