Page 17 of Stuck with You

“You think if you don’t kiss her you’ll be able to keep your feelings in check,” she accused. “Oh my God, you’re like that billionaire inPretty Womanwho thought kissing was too intimate but was really hiding his feelings.”

“I’m not hiding my feelings,” I said hotly.

“Feelings for who?”

My head whipped around as a voice came from behind me. Lauren, one of the most senior dommes at the club, gave me a smile before leaning across the bar to share a quick kiss with her wife Kristina.

“Taylor has feelings for her new sub but she’s pretending not to,” Kristina said. “She thinks not kissing her will keep them from falling in love.”

When I glared at her the pretty bartender shrugged. “When you’re a bartender you hear everything.”

“What’s wrong with your sub?” Lauren asked. “Why don’t you want to act on your crush or whatever this is?”

“We hated each other when we were younger and she was my archrival in high school,” I said, using my fingers to tick off my points. “I ran into her recently and she accidentally punched me then got me arrested. I’m picking up trash on the side of the road because of her. And she’s straight…”

“Except when you’re getting her off,” April reminded me.

“And I’ve been burned before with women who were experimenting.”

Lauren gave me a long look. “In fairness, most of us were experimenting at some point. It’s how we realized that we like vag more than dick. Or that we like both. Or whatever it is we end up liking. You can’t hold that against her.”

That was a fair point. And April was right. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss a couple of weeks ago, and playing with Aubrey here at the club had only intensified my attraction for her. Receiving the gift of her submission was like a shot of adrenaline.

Yet I couldn’t help but think that if I let myself go I’d end up hurt. I couldn’t handle getting my heart broken again because some baby lesbian went back to her ex-boyfriend. Been there, bought the tee shirt. Twice, in fact.

I needed to keep the distance between us. It was all new and shiny and exciting for her now but sooner or later Aubrey would move on, and I didn’t want to be nursing a broken heart when she left. I’d promised myself that I wasn’t making the same mistake again.

And yet I did…

***

Four weeks later…

“Why haven’t you kissed me again?”

Aubrey hit me with the question as soon as we were alone in the private room at Club Surrender. It was the sixth Saturday in a row that she’d come to the club to scene with me. We’d finished our community service, yet neither of us seemed to want to end our weekly sessions at Club Surrender.

Why would we? They were hot as fuck for both of us, even if only Aubrey was getting off. It had been getting harder and harder for me to keep my distance though. Aubrey’s submission was a beautiful thing to see, and the way she responded to me getting her off – the way the pain made her let go and take the pleasure Iwas giving her in a way I suspected that she’d never had – it was a huge turn-on.

Tonight she was wearing a cute white slip dress that would have looked almost virginal if it wasn’t for her bare nipples pressing against the thin fabric. And the fact that the dress barely covered the lower curves of her ass.

“What?” I asked, stalling for time.

Aubrey took a deep breath, gathering her courage, then her words came out in a rush.

“I’m confused. That day we went to court, you kissed me in the car. It was great and you seemed to enjoy it too and I thought... well, I thought you were attracted to me. But when we’re here at the club, you’re always so distant. Like we’re strangers. I thought maybe you were trying to get me used to BDSM first, and I get the impression you’re enjoying our sessions, like maybe they’re exciting for you too, but you never… well, it seems like maybe there’s another reason you’re keeping a wall between us.”

When I didn’t respond she added, “I’ve loved what we’ve done. I’ve learned a lot from you about this world, and you’ve given me the best orgasms of my life, but I’d also like…”

“What?” I asked when she stopped talking.

I knew, but I wanted to hear her say it. I wanted something to give myself permission to let myself off the leash and do what I’dbeen fantasizing about since the day I woke up cuddled in a jail cell with her.

“I want you to kiss me again,” she whispered, staring at the floor as a pink flush rose across her cheeks. “I want to… reciprocate when you make me come. I want some real intimacy. I want to touch you. Taste you. And I want you to teach me what you like, how to give a woman pleasure.”

A rush of arousal hit me like a wave, soaking my panties. I was strong, but how could I resist that kind of invitation?

“Sex isn’t always a part of a scene,” I said.

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