Page 11 of In Love With a Master (Interview With a Master 2)

ctic and I could feel the running beat of her heart as my finger finally grazed the lace of her bra.

“What happens next?” I asked in a whisper.

Leticia sighed. “You touch my breast,” she said, sounding slightly breathless but also expectant.

“It’s obvious, yes?”

She nodded, while I kept my finger circling the top of her bra, grazing my fingernail gently over the soft, creamy flesh to make her skin tingle.

“And so no great surprise,” I added.

She sighed softly then opened her mouth to say something more. I leaned forward at the same instant and without touching her, I kissed her sensually along the line of her neck, letting my lips linger as I drew them down across her throat.

Leticia gasped – a sudden shock of breath, and the beat of her heart began to thump like a hammer. I leaned back and her eyes flew wide open.

“Wow,” she said. “I didn’t…”

I smiled. “Anticipation is its most effective, most seductive, when the next moment remains a mystery.”

I stepped away from Leticia and began to pace the room once more. She watched for a moment, following me with her eyes, and then she slipped her blouse back on. I had the feeling she was still trembling.

“Women have sex lives of expectation,” I said. “For this I blame popular culture – to a certain extent – and most men’s absolute lack of imagination.”

Leticia fumbled to refasten a couple of the buttons on her blouse but she stayed quiet, her silence encouraging me to continue.

“By culture, I mean baseball,” I said. Leticia shot me cynical glance, and her expression suggested that maybe I was crazy.

I wasn’t.

I stopped pacing.

“Men and women are taught certain things,” I said. “For instance, as they grow up into young adults they are taught that ‘first base’ is kissing a girl, ‘second base’ is fondling her breasts, ‘third base’ is sliding his hand down inside a young lady’s panties… and ‘a home run’ is intercourse. Men are taught this – the method follows clear steps, and no base can safely be reached without first passing the other, because it depends on the young lady’s willingness and permission. Similarly, women are taught to expect that once a man runs his hands across her breasts, pretty soon his only next move will be to reach down within her panties – because that is the expectation, the system – the order.”

Leticia tilted her head quizzically, and then slowly began to nod.

“What you were expecting was for me to touch your breast – ‘second base’. What you got instead was something quite different – quite unexpected. You see, Leticia, a skilled lover doesn’t follow the conventions and expectations. I make love to a woman like an explorer – every part of a woman’s body, every new curve and contour, is something to be discovered and marveled over. The only rule is arousal.”

Leticia finished dressing and a soft flush of warm color that had painted her cheeks began to fade. She combed her fingers through her hair and took several deep, settling breaths.

“In some ways, perhaps, aspects of the BDSM lifestyle break these stereotypes,” I added as a new thought suddenly occurred to me. “Perhaps that is why so many mature women are fascinated and drawn to the lifestyle – because the normal conventions of sex do not apply. The unexpected happens much more often.”

“Is that so?” Leticia asked. She cocked one eyebrow at me in a gesture that invited me to explain. “In what ways?”

I shrugged. “In most ways, actually,” I said as the thought took form and shape. “So you see the normal base approach used by most men depends heavily on the woman’s consent. The guy kisses her and when she moans he feels it is safe to move on to touching her breasts. If she doesn’t trap his hand to stop him, he fondles her breasts until she begins to pant or gasp, or perhaps moves her body in such a way as to make it clear that the man has her silent approval to continue on to third base. But in BDSM the consent – the permission – is given by the submissive well before such sexual contact usually takes place. Therefore, in a BDSM scene, a Master needs no permission, and therefore needs no reason to follow the ‘base by base’ normal process of seduction. He is free to arouse, and be aroused by his submissive in any way – and in any order – he wishes. Perhaps it is the lure of the unexpected that appeals to women…”

For a long time Leticia said nothing. I glanced down at the pad in her lap and realized she had written several pages of notes. She was staring at me as though transfixed – as though entranced.

“Leticia, do you want to write down anything I just said?”

Leticia seemed to come to life slowly as though waking from a dream. She looked up at me, then down at her notes, then back at me. “Um… yes…” she said slowly.

I nodded. I started to pace again, drifting back and forth across the floor as words and thoughts tumbled around in my head. I glanced sideways at Leticia and watched her scramble to write. As I did so, memories of a particular woman from my past came to mind and I paused, and then decided there was value in sharing those memories with Leticia.

“Some years ago I met a woman by the name of Ann,” I began. “At the time we were both in our mid-twenties. Ann was a unique kind of woman. She had a nice figure, with long dark flowing hair. She lived alone in a small downtown apartment, and played Nirvana unplugged and Cat Stevens records through the night. I guess she was a modern-day kind of hippie. Her apartment was filled with crystals and the aromas of incense. The woman didn’t own a sofa or a chair – we sat around on beanbags… you know the kind of girl I’m talking about?”

Leticia nodded, and scratched a couple of notes into her pad.

“Ann was a very sexual woman,” I explained. “She had come out of an unhappy marriage. She had married young to her first boyfriend, and some years later realized the mistake she had made. When I met her she was lonely, inexperienced with men, and we shared several weekends together.”

I paused by the window and stared for a moment down into the city streets as my memories became more focused on that time from my past.

“Ann had very sensitive breasts. She had one nipple pierced, and it was an intense erotic trigger for her. She hadn’t discovered this fact until after she had separated from her husband. He had been as young as her when they had married and he knew even less about sex than she did. Based on what Ann told me, the guy knew absolutely nothing about women. For Ann, sex and lovemaking were very separate things. She had learned from her husband that sex was a way for her to receive what she craved the most – companionship, so when we first became lovers she was frantic in the bedroom, not because of any wild sexual desires, but because she was in a rush to get to those tender, quiet moments afterwards. Does that make sense, Leticia?”

I looked to where Leticia was sitting and saw her nod. “I think that would make sense to a lot of women,” Leticia said softly. “This lady, Ann, is not the only woman in the world, Jonah, who would feel the same way. But I imagine there are some women who would envy your Ann – the fact that she had intimacy to look forward to afterwards. Most women I know have boyfriends and husbands who would rather sleep than snuggle...”

I nodded. Leticia had a point.

“The first time I was with Ann I tried to explain that sex and lovemaking could be intertwined. I tried to get her to understand that rushing through those moments of passion to get the tenderness she was expecting was a sad love life. I wanted her to understand that affection and anticipation could merge sex and lovemaking together so that it was much more than just a physical act to be rushed through.”

“Did you make her understand?”

I nodded and started pacing again. “When I knocked on Ann’s door the afternoon following our first night together, she answered the door massaging her wrist. I said nothing, but when I got to her kitchen I noticed her clock had stopped. It was a big, ornate, decorative piece that dominated one wall. The clock had stopped over an hour earlier and it was hanging at an angle. I ask

ed Ann what had happened, and she told me she had taken the batteries from the clock because the ones in her vibrator had run out.”

“No!”

“True story,” I nodded. “It is funny now, but at the time I was shocked. Ann had spent the previous hour before my arrival pleasuring herself in the hope that the sex would be quick and explosive, and that we could then spend time doing what she expected – being intimate.”

I saw the smile in Leticia’s eyes; she scribbled another note, and then looked back at me as if urging me to continue the story. “What did you do?”

“I knew the only way Ann would ever understand was if I took control and showed her what was possible. I turned her around and locked my arms around her. I wrapped one hand around her throat and slid the other hand down over her breasts towards her hips. Ann gasped in surprise and froze for an instant. I kissed her neck and my other hand swept over her breasts and freed them from her bra. I could feel the heat between our bodies, and the sudden thrust of Ann’s bottom against me as she swished her hips from side to side. My free hand slid from her breast and pressed flat against her abdomen. She was wearing black leggings and I edged my fingers inside the elastic waistband. Ann’s breathing became irregular and as my hand slid lower she began to tremble. I kissed her neck fiercely, and then whispered in her ear that she should spread her legs for me. She responded instantly, and groaned. I could feel the heat of her sex just out of reach.

“‘I want to lick your pussy, Ann,’ I told her. ‘I want to take you into the bedroom and undress you slowly. I want to run my fingers over your hard nipples and trail a long line of soft wet kisses down to your sex.’ I kept my voice low and husky so the words vibrated and hummed against her throat. Ann went soft within my arms and I felt one of her knees begin to tremble uncontrollably. ‘I want to spread you out on the bed and kiss those soft sensitive spots along the inside of your thigh until I reach the wet lips of your pussy and can taste the essence of you.’”

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