Page 70 of Taking Chances

Tonight is everything but. Trying to find a point where I can push my little Firecracker just enough, but not too far was the cause of a lot of meticulous planning and two trips to the store.

At 7:30 sharp, she enters the car, filling it with her scent.

“Hi,” she says cheerfully, though her face is reddened with embarrassment. That won’t do tonight. Shame has no place in what we’re doing.

“How was your day?”

“It was hectic. The whole week, actually.” She sighs.

“Because of the move?”

“Yeah. It’s great but I need to coordinate all the activities now happening in a new place.”

“Did you bring your things?” I told her to bring a sleepover bag. I don’t want her to experience the hormone crash alone at home. She’s way too inexperienced for that.

“Yup, but I don’t really need a lot. Just a toothbrush and an extra set of clothes.” She lifts her little bag.

“Good.”

“So, what will… happen tonight?” Her question makes me smile. I guess she’s more curious than she is shy.

“I could tell you everything that will happen. Or I could show you. Your call.”

“I’m just a bit nervous.” She offers an awkward chuckle.

“I’ll follow the checklist. And we have safe words, of course. I’ll ask you to give me a color. Green if you’re into it and you want to continue, yellow if you want to take things slower or if you’re not sure you’re into it, and red to make everything stop instantly.” She swallows but doesn’t respond. “Do you want me to repeat?”

“No, I got it. It’s pretty straightforward.”

“Do you want to me to give you a play-by-play or would you rather be surprised?” Normally, I prefer both parties to be informed of everything that will happen in a scene, but with her, I’d rather surprise her. Talking about it in advance would only make her overthink and not get into the scene. And she’s so fucking gorgeous when she lets go.

Her silence stretches a few seconds before she responds, “Surprise me.” Her voice is low and hoarse, like she’s already turned on. My dick stirs in my pants as I imagine her wet pussy.

We chat some more, but when we enter my living room, it’s game on.

Brushing my lips against hers, I say, “Get in the bedroom on the far left.” My stern tone has her eyes widening in an instant. “Take off your clothes and fold them neatly on my bed. I want you waiting for me naked, on your knees, your hands folded in your lap, your eyes down. You will not speak or look up at me unless you’re ordered to. Is that clear?”

It takes her a second to recover from the shock, but then she scurries to my bedroom, leaving me wound up and hard. I grab a bottle of Jack, chugging a generous sip. She might be the inexperienced one, but I’m just as nervous. I got to taste and finger her pussy, yet I’ve never felt her clench around my cock before. My jeans are more than uncomfortable, but now is not the time to take off my clothes.

She must already be naked, but I need her to fester in desire and anticipation some more. I want her need to be so big that it drowns out the shame. I want her screaming, and writhing, and free.

Fifteen minutes later, which seemed like ten hours to my dick and probably her, I enter the room, stunned by the sight.

She kneels on my dark wooden floor, like a vision of submission, her head down, her hands in her lap. Her head jerks a little, hearing me enter, but she quickly brings it back down.

“Good girl. You keep listening to me so beautifully and you’ll be rewarded.”

My finger drags down her cheek, eliciting a shiver. Her copper hair falls carelessly over her shoulder, miles of porcelain skin on display.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this. Naked and ready for me.” She inhales sharply. “You’re a good girl, but your nipples tell me a different story. Look at how hard these peaks are.” I pinch an eager nipple, and she whimpers. “They’re dying for me to use them. Aren’t they?”

Her response is a silent nod. She remembers she isn’t allowed to speak. Fuck, she’s already so good at this.

“But first, you have to earn your right to be used. Can you do that? I want you to look into my eyes and answer me, now.”

Her eyes shoot up, uncertainty visible in them. Still, after a second, she whispers, “Yes. I want to earn it.”

“Good.” I get to the dresser on the right side of the table and pull out a spool of Shibari rope. “Remember your words, Firecracker. Give me a color now,” I say as I return with the rope.

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