Epiphany Proudfoot

“…so, like, I just sat there and frowned. I didn’t say anything for the rest of the meeting.”
“Then what happened?”
“I got my way of course,” I smiled with satisfaction.
I was in the kitchen, talking to my live-in girlfriend of eight months, Josephine (well, technically I was the live-in girlfriend as this was her house, but you get the point). She was cooking dinner for us like she did nearly every night, and I was recounting the tale of how I got my way yet again during a meeting with the director of a film I had written. He had wanted significant changes that would make the film cheaper to produce while I thought the changes would decrease the creative integrity of project. An age-old problem. And just as I had told Josie, I had won in the end, as I always do.
“So you didn’t really have an argument per se,” she continued, not looking up at me as she added spices to her delicious-smelling brew. She was wearing a black tank top and short terry cloth shorts, showing off her toned legs. Wasn’t it dangerous to cook with so little on? I licked my lips automatically. It had been a week since we’d had sex. We were both very busy and, beyond dinner and sleep, our paths had crossed infrequently lately. Dangerous indeed. I turned my attention to something else.
“Who needs a real argument when you can win like I do?” I bragged. “I mean, sure if I’d tried maybe I could have made some changes to make things easier on them, but why should I? They bought the film like it is you know. Why change it now?”
Josephine laughed. “You really are something, Corey. You know that?”
“What can I say? I like getting my way.”
“I know.”
She said it with a tinge of acidic distaste. She was all-to-familiar with this dark side of my personality. She had been witness to it too many times. I knew she disapproved of it too, which was why I took such pleasure in promoting how I used it on others.
“Oh, come on baby, you know you love it,” I teased.
“I suppose.”
“I’m an only child. It’s what we do.”
“Yes…” she started and paused. “I think though…it’s about time to rid you of that spoiled brat attitude of yours. Seriously.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a threat or a promise. I grinned with self-satisfaction. I had always been a brat -- an only child used to getting what she wanted. I wasn’t mean or anything – just spoiled. Josephine knew this. I believed it was half the reason she was attracted to me even if she wouldn’t admit it. This attitude made me assertive and demanding and was probably responsible for much of my success in life to tell the truth.
In the beginning, as with all my relationships, I had tried to hide it. No one wants to get involved with someone with a princess personality. So, it was in my best interest to pretend as if I liked doing what other people wanted.
I let her pick the restaurants, the movies. If she suggested something, it was what we did even if I hated it. But of course, eventually that act wore thin with me. It started out subtly. I would veto her choice of romantic comedy and pout when she put up a fight. I’d go ahead and make reservations at a certain restaurant before even making the date just so not eating where I wanted to would be a big hassle. Josephine caught on really quick to this. She called me a brat. But she hadn’t seen anything yet.
My brattiness was at its worst when it came to the word ‘no’. I loved to say ‘no,’ even if the thing in question was something I really wanted. I hated when people asked my permission to do something. It made them seem weak, something I didn’t respect. It gave me a sick pleasure to deny them. ‘No’ flowed as easily from my lips as air, bringing me a delight I couldn’t explain.
I also never begged for anything. It was beneath me. I barely asked for things and that annoyed the hell out of Josephine. I guess I expected people, particularly her, to read my mind. If I was annoyed with the way she washed clothes, I wouldn’t say so. I would just rewash them all to my liking. Then she’d come home and wonder why I’d redone all of her hard work. I’d shrug with no explanation.
It got so to the point that my attitude became the topic of conversation, particularly when it involved dinner parties with my exes.
Yes, I still have dinner parties with my exes.
I’ve never left a relationship with the bridge totally burned. That’s so tacky. Josephine never had a problem with it (none of them held a candle to her), not one that she voiced anyway. In fact, she and my exes got along just fine, especially when it came to railing on me about how spoiled and selfish I was.
“Oh God, did I tell you about the time I went to all this trouble for a Valentine’s Day surprise with this romantic walk on the beach? Candles, dinner set up there and all that.” Stephanie, my last ex began. “That bitch stood me up because she doesn’t prefer the beach.”
Josephine laughed at this. Despite myself, I did too. It did seem a bit extreme and ridiculous when put like that, but I really did hate the idea of getting sand in my shoes. Plus, I didn’t like the smell of the sea. Was it really such a big deal to cancel a date in a location you didn’t like?
More stories like that would follow, making me seem almost insufferable, but I took it all in stride cause each and everyone of those women with their tales of woe could never say I wasn’t an amazing lover. Because I was. Dominant in the bedroom, making sure their every need was met. Their stories never complained about that department. So, why should I be worried about one little character flaw?
So now, here I was in Josephine’s kitchen. She was throwing down an ultimatum that I really couldn’t take seriously. I mean, me cured? Ha. I’d like to see her try. I looked up from my place at the kitchen table. Josephine was still intent on her cooking. She was a professional chef – the star attraction at Mobio, the exclusive French-fusion restaurant on LaBrea. Her skill in the kitchen was actually what got us together, but that’s another story for another time. Anyway, tonight she was cooking up a new dish she was thinking about putting on the menu. I was always the very willing guinea pig for her new concoctions.
“Cure me?” I asked incredulously.
“Absolutely. I’ve let you get away with it for a very long time. I thought you’d grow out of it, but I was wrong.”
I chuckled. She wasn’t even looking at me when she made this thinly veiled threat. She was focused completely on the mixture in the pot on the stove. She could have been talking about the weather with that tone of voice.
“I’d like to see you try,” I said under my breath.
She looked up at this, a smile playing on her lips. She seemed about to say something but didn’t and went back to her cooking.
“When’s dinner going to be done?”
“Wait for it.”
I stood up; intent on getting a quick taste of what smelled so good on the stove. She caught me out of the corner of her eye.
“I said wait for it.”
I smiled that smile that usually gets me out of everything – slightly crooked, eyes gentle and harmless. She didn’t smile back. I stopped in my tracks. That usually got to her. I took a slow step forward and she watched.
“You don’t really mean that, Josie. Just a taste.”
No answer. I took another step.
“Corey…” she said warningly.
“C’mon, baby. One taste. I’m starving.” I put a bit of whine into that last part, for effect. This was probably the only situation that I would even consider anything similar to begging. And it wasn’t real begging after all – I was going to get what I wanted. She just needed to comply. She needed to take pity on me.
She turned the burners off and walked towards me slowly. I didn’t know what to expect at all. Whiney voice usually made her give in pretty easily. Her hands, still damp from a recent wash, caressed my face. She leaned in for the softest of kisses, intensifying it ever so slowly. I forgot what I was actually standing up for. She pulled back and I could feel the bewildered look on my face. She smiled – her secret weapon – and I melted. It wasn’t food I wanted anymore.
“Corey,” she said very clearly, “Go sit down while I finish.”
The firmness in her voice and my own distraction caused me to nod without thinking. Fuck. What just happened?
I realized I was completely aroused at this point. I turned to go back to my seat at the kitchen table and to process things…
Now, Josephine was a really hot number. Tall, flawless caramel skin, hair that was soft and all natural, brown curls spiraling from her head in all directions. I could drink her hazel eyes in forever. Her voice was husky yet melodic, sexy beyond words in any context. I could listen to her read the phone book and be completely soaked. She had curves for days – the perfect ass accented by a flat tummy, ample rounded breasts with permanently hard nipples. I could go on for eternity praising her looks…
So, it was no surprise that she could turn me on. I was with her for a reason beyond the stimulating conversation you know. But to turn me on so quickly? From zero to a billion in less than one second? That was new for me. Maybe it was the sudden take charge attitude. Or maybe it was because we hadn’t had sex in a week. I don’t know.
I was wet sitting at the table. I didn’t even dare look over at her, because I knew I would get up again. I didn’t want to taste her food right now. I wanted to taste her. I had to formulate a plan to reach that goal.
She started humming what sounded like a Nina Simone tune. I heard the cabinet open and close, the jangle of the silverware drawer and before I knew it she had sat down a plate of creamy pasta in front of me. She stood, hands on her hips, waiting expectantly.
“You said you were hungry. It’s finished. Eat up.”
“Aren’t you going to join me?”
“I’d rather sit and watch you.”
A little confused, I picked up my fork and dug in. The pasta was divine, peppered with scallops and shrimp, seasoned with garlic and other more subtle spices. It fell onto my tongue, melted, and rolled away. Josephine was a really good cook. I moaned at the second bite.
“Is it good?” she asked, eyes never leaving my face. She was cocky about her food. She knew it was good before I even tasted it.
“Really good,” I said. I couldn’t deny it.
“Was it worth waiting for?”
“I guess so,” I answered, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.
She chuckled as she watched me wolf down the rest hungrily.
“You thirsty?”
I noticed for the first time that she hadn’t given me anything to drink.
I waited for a few seconds, but she just sat there looking at me. I raised my eyebrows in a ‘well?’ fashion and she smiled serenely.
“I thought you were going to get me something to drink.”
“I was?”
I smiled myself, catching onto the game she was playing. She wanted me to ask.
“You’re really going to play it like that?” I asked.
“Like what?”
I rolled my eyes. “May I please have something to drink?” I snorted it as cheekily as I possibly could, but she didn’t seem to mind.
She got up like it was nothing and grabbed a sparkling water for me. My grin got even wider as she sat it down. I gulped down the water, not taking my eyes off of her. Was this newfound power-play turning me on? I finished the rest of my pasta, rubbing my tummy when it was over.
“That was wonderful. You’re putting that on the summer menu?”
“I was thinking about it. But I needed a second opinion.”
“Well, you got my approval. What’s for dessert?”
“Who said there was dessert?”
“With you, there’s always dessert, Josie.” Which explained the four-times-a-week gym regimen I was on.
She smiled and went to the refrigerator, bringing back a decadent-looking white mousse drizzled with raspberry sauce.
“Also for the summer menu?” I asked.
“Maybe. It’s a little lemon chiffon-y. I was wondering how that would work with the raspberry.”
I grabbed the spoon to take a huge bite and tell her how well it worked, but she grabbed my hand before I could.
“I didn’t say you could eat it.”
I looked at her incredulously, genuinely annoyed. No one comes between me and dessert.
“Are you serious?” I was not about to beg for dessert. “You want me to ask to eat something you just put in front of me for the express purposes of me eating it?”
She grabbed the spoon from my fingers and dug in herself, taking a long luscious bite. She moaned her approval, licking traces of cream from her lips. It was completely sexy. My attention span failed me and once again I forgot what I was doing.
“Mmm…it does work.”
“Really?” I said absent-mindedly, watching her take another sensual mouthful.
“Yeah. Did you want some?” she asked, looking right into my eyes.
She took another bite, this time smaller. If she kept going, there wouldn’t be any left for me. Reluctantly, I swallowed my pride.
“May I have some?”
She smiled, took another huge spoonful and held it to my lips. I opened up and took as much as I could, a lot of it landing on the outside of my mouth. Like the pasta, it was heavenly. Before I could lick my lips to get the rest off, Josie’s mouth was on mine. She licked my lips for me, and then bit them teasingly.
Again, zero to a billion in no time at all. I could feel myself getting wetter as I sat in my chair. She stood up, coming to sit on my lap, never breaking our kiss. I pulled back, finally needing air. I looked into Josephine’s hazel eyes and saw an echoing hunger tinged with playfulness. She ran her fingers through my dreads.
“What do you think?”
“Summer menu?”
“Yeah…” I answered, slightly dazed. Oh yeah, we had been talking about the summer menu.
Now let me just stop here to say that thinking and sexual arousal doesn’t really mesh well when it comes to my mind. One or the other has to go. Usually, in this battle, it’s the thinking that goes the easiest. Like right now, I wasn’t thinking about summer menu or even Josephine’s earlier threat about taming the brat in me. I could only think that she was so warm in my lap, her luscious lips tasted deliciously of lemon and cream, and that (from previous experience) the kitchen table would be sturdy enough to hold us both up while I fucked her.
My hands snaked their way up her body, stopping briefly to feel the swell of her ass in those terry cloth shorts, then taking an expedition underneath her shirt to come to rest on breasts that were so graciously unobstructed by a bra. Her nipples, as expected, were hard as diamonds. She groaned when I lightly rubbed them. This time I initiated the kiss, trying to convey how much I wanted her through lips and tongue. We kissed for what could have easily been ages. I stood up, bringing Josie with me, her arms wrapped around my neck. I started to lay her on the table, but she unfolded herself from me and stood up on her own. Her face was flush with need. I’m sure her look was just a mirror of my own.
I was thinking ‘how fast could we make it to the bedroom’. Josie obviously wasn’t thinking the same, because she placed a hand in the center of my chest and pushed me back down into the seat. I knew she was on this power trip thing, so I let her do it. I was curious where it would lead. Part of me wanted to allow her to make me a little frustrated and mad – just so I could enjoy it all the more when she was under me, screaming my name, telling me to fuck her harder. I grinned at the thought.
“Something funny?”
“No,” I replied, still amused. I would win this, I thought. In the end. I just had to be patient.
“Take off your pants,” Josie commanded.
It took a bit of effort to obey such a wanton command, but I did it, boot cut jeans hitting the floor. I was now in only a faded gray t-shirt and red girly boxer briefs. My days in the gym paid off at moments like this. I opened my legs just a bit, enticing her. I waited.
Josie looked me over hungrily. She dropped to her knees in front of me and began kissing my thighs. I hadn’t expected that. She usually starts out slower than that. Her kisses soon ran so close to my sex that I was sure she could smell me already. A wet spot was beginning to spread in the middle of my briefs. Josie looked up at me and grinned when she saw it.
“Having fun?” she asked. I nodded. With her that close to exactly where I wanted her, I was finding it harder to breathe. My chest rose and fell rapidly. She ran a finger over my undies, right over the spot. I could feel the tip of her finger touch my clit through the fabric. I jumped, and then grinned nervously. I was never really one for the slow tease.
She placed both hands on my thighs and moved up, lifting my shirt with the top of her head. She kissed my stomach right above the underwear. I lifted my shirt completely off, tossing it to the floor. My breasts fell free. She kissed them lightly, then sucked on my right nipple. I tried to pull her up to me, so we could be even on the clothes thing, but she resisted. She switched to my left nipple, bringing a hand up to play with the right. Against my will, I let out a low moan.
“Josie, c’mere.” I tried to pull her up again, but she wouldn’t budge from her spot on the floor. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of my briefs and pulled them down. I was now completely naked at the kitchen table. She sat back to admire her handiwork.
She smiled and bit her lip, eyes devouring my nakedness shamelessly.
“Perfect,” she whispered.
I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I wasn’t used to being looked at so intensely – like a piece of prime-cut meat or something. It was usually me giving those sorts of looks. I started to stand up, but Josie pushed me back down. She spread my legs as far as they would go in the chair and dove in.
I felt her tongue lick up and down my slit. I squirmed beneath her putting both hands in her naturally curly hair, trying to guide her to where I most needed it. She, in turn, grabbed my hands and held them captive on the arms of the chair. I groaned in frustration. This role-reversal thing was getting to me. In all my relationships I was the aggressor. I was the one holding girls down. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Josie knew this. We’d even had a conversation a while back about it.
She was more femme than I was. I fell somewhere between butch and femme. A boi, some would call me, really riding that gender stereotype line. My usual attire was jeans and t-shirts, rugged boots or Chuck’s. My hair was locked and carefree, the tips bleached almost white, moving through a gradient of blondes, browns and finally black as it reached my roots. I loved being a girl, but didn’t like the maintenance that went with the stereotype, so I did my own thing.
Josie was definitely a femme. She wore skirts and dresses and little cute things. She liked to get dressed up and wear makeup. I teased her by calling her prissy whenever she called me spoiled. She hated that.
When we felt like ‘strapping-up’, I was the one who wore the strap exclusively. Not that I didn’t like penetration. I loved it…but there was something about that power-play, the submissiveness of ‘taking it’ that didn’t flow with me. It didn’t fit my ‘getting it my way’ persona.
Josie had asked me very nonchalantly, after an intense love-making session, if I’d ever thought about doing it the other way. I told her that it wasn’t really for me. She responded with a very eerie:
“You never know till you try.”
And that had been that. No more mention of it.
But now, with her holding me to the chair and going to town on my pussy, I was starting to wonder if maybe…
Her stiff tongue touched my clit in quick swipes. Fuck, that felt good. She was so good at giving head. Born for it, I think. My hips were moving in time with her now. If she kept that up, I was gonna cum really quick. I tried to lift my arms, but she had a vice grip on them.
“You’re gonna make me cum, baby.” I tried to hint at the urgent-ness of this with the stress in my voice. Maybe she’d slow down or something, or let me move my hands so that I could work on her. But it all seemed not to faze her. She kept up the pace. My breathing increased, hips bucking faster now. She matched me thrust for thrust. She inserted one, then two fingers into my dripping pussy. I was so wet that she easily slid in. Her fingertips fluttered across my g-spot.
I tried to catch my breath, to slow myself down, but I was out of control. I could taste the beginnings of climax on the tip of my tongue.
And then suddenly, she just stopped. Everything. I opened eyes I hadn’t even realized were closed and looked down at her. She was smiling, face dripping with my wetness. I furrowed my brow, confused as to why my road to climax had been so abruptly derailed.
“What’s wrong?” I panted.
“We’re going upstairs,” she said.
I couldn’t believe it. Now?! In the middle of what had promised to be an amazing orgasm.
Without another word, she stood up, gathering my clothes from the floor, and started for the stairs. I couldn’t believe what was happening. She didn’t look back, just mounted the stairs and was gone.
My breathing slowed down as I collected myself. My wetness was dripping onto the seat. Thank goodness for easy-to-clean wooden chairs. I stood up, contemplating whether to follow her. I didn’t like being told what to do. She was teasing me intentionally. I looked to the stairs. I could just stay down here. Leave her up there waiting. That would show her who makes the demands around here. But...she did have my clothes. And I didn’t get to orgasm. And, frankly, I was curious.
I trudged up the carpeted stairs, turning to the second room on the right. Our bedroom. I opened the door to find Josephine completely naked, sitting on the edge of the bed. She seemed surprised to see me standing there.
“I didn’t know if you’d come.”
“You didn’t give me much of a choice, did you?”
She smiled as I walked further into the room, closing the door behind me. The lighting had been dimmed to ‘fuck level’, casting everything in a soft glow. The sheets on the bed were a dark red, so it took me a second to realize that she was sitting beside something. My eyes went wide. Our favorite strap, locked and loaded, waited patiently beside her along with a small scarf and two longer scarves. I frowned.
“What’s all this?”
“Remember what we talked about?”
Of course I did. I stiffened.
“You wanna fuck me?”
She nodded. So silent and innocent. I opened my mouth to answer, but I didn’t really want to say ‘no’ when she was looking at me like that.
“I know you’ll like it,” she said.
“You trust me, right?”
“Of course I do.”
She picked up the scarves. “How much do you trust me?”
I’d never been blindfolded before, much less tied up in addition. I’d done it to others many times of course, but…that was a whole lot of trust, a whole lot of NOT being in charge. I gulped.
“Josie…” I started. “I…don’t…”
Josie ran the scarves through her hands and spoke very matter-of-factly.
“You have trust issues, Corey. I realized this when we first started dating. You don’t like others being in control and that’s what makes you such a brat all the time.”
Whoa. When did my girlfriend become Dr. Phil?
“I think it would be healthy for you to address those issues. And I really want to help you do that. But only if you want me to.”
She looked so sincere sitting there. I sat down on the bed next to her. She ran a hand along my naked thigh, causing me to jump. I was still really turned on from our encounter downstairs. I looked at the strap. I could definitely take it. I’d taken larger than that in my own, private play. That wasn’t the issue.
While I contemplated, Josie moved closer to me. Before I knew it, we were on the bed and she was on top of me. I could feel the heat of our bodies together. It felt so good. She kissed me, running her fingers through my wetness down below. I bucked into her hands, wanting more.
“It’s your choice,” she said between kisses, “But I’ll warn you, Corey. The only way you’re cumming with me tonight, is on the end of that dick.”
She kissed me deeply as she said this. I groaned, my wetness increasing by a thousand. Was I really being turned on by this?
She had me. Completely. I guess I could get myself off if worse came to worse, but this was feeling so good. She was feeling so good on me, in me.
“Yes,” I heard myself say. Josie pulled back. She seemed as surprised as I did.
“Let’s do it.” I could feel the uncertainty in my eyes even as I said this. Josie kissed me softly on the cheek.
“I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.”
I moved slowly to the head of the bed. Josie followed, securing both my hands to the headboard. Then she put on the blindfold, which increased my anxiety. I could hear Josie strapping up, cinching buckles into place. Then, silence. I moved my head around trying to hear something, but it was deathly quiet. I wondered what she was doing. Staring like she had been downstairs. Only a sudden weight-shift at the end of the bed let me know she was there. She spread my legs wider than I had them, settling herself between.
“And now,” she began huskily, “my cute little brat, you’re going to learn the value of asking for things.”
I smirked at the smugness in her voice. She’d teach me? Hardly. I chuckled. But underneath that, I had to admit, I was a bit nervous. I hated not knowing what to expect.
“Does that amuse you?” Josie’s voice brought me to attention. Before I could answer, I was shocked with a loud slap to the side of my ass. It surprised more than hurt me. I let out something between a moan and scream. She did it again, but this time I struggled to remain silent. I pulled my hands, tugging at the scarves, wondering if they were really as secure as I’d thought. They didn’t budge.
Shit. I was in trouble. I felt Josie move again, could feel the rubber dick of the strap-on perched at my entrance. She moved, rubbing it achingly slowly against my clit. I arched my body, trying to get more contact, but she moved away. We did that a few more times and I heard her chuckle as I sighed my frustration.
“Josie…” I started.
“Shhh…” she said.
Then I felt her fingers run torturously slow down my body, starting from my neck. She tweaked my nipples then ran further, skipping over my sex, and ending at my thighs. Her lips and tongue followed that path, at first gentle, then aggressive in their attack. I was sure she left a giant hicky on my collar. On my nipples, she alternated a vicious sucking then cool blowing that left me completely on edge. I felt like I would lose my mind if she kept this up.
I bucked my crotch, hoping to have a little more contact there, but she kept herself and the rubber dong just out of reach. With the blindfold on, it was really hard to keep myself from moving, jumping at every little touch. I so wasn’t prepared for this. I felt her fingers in my wetness again, rubbing my clit exclusively. She was moving fast, like she wanted me to cum. It was working.
My breathing quickly increased, my movements becoming more erratic. My mouth opened, trying to gulp as much air as I could. It felt like I was drowning. Despite the blindfold, I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the onslaught…
Again, she stopped me right at the brink, removing her fingers and holding down my bucking body with her hands. I felt a small tear escape and run down the side of my face. I was so close. Fuck.
“You okay?” I barely heard her ask over the loud thump of my own heartbeat in my ears.
I was quiet for a moment, catching my breath. I was actually kind of angry. I wanted to cum so badly and she was intentionally denying me. It put me into full-on pout mode.
I felt her touch my face. She traced my pouting lips with the same fingers that had just been rubbing me. I licked my lips, tasting my own sweetness. Josie bent down and kissed me passionately, her tongue moving in my mouth. She tasted like me too. I calmed down a bit.
“Are you okay?” she asked again as she pulled away from the kiss.
“Y…yeah,” I barely squeaked out. I could feel myself trembling.
“You wanna stop?”
She started kissing my body again. I clenched my jaw. Everything was so much more sensitive now. The denied orgasm had raised the intensity level up a few notches. I felt her hands move to my sex again. Part of me wanted to say ‘don’t’, because I knew exactly what the outcome would be. But that would be asking and asking would be giving in. I set myself determined to win this battle of wills.
She rubbed my clit quickly again. I tried holding back, not getting into things, but my body betrayed me. It didn’t take her long to have me bucking into her hand. I was so wet; I could feel it forming a puddle beneath my ass. Like clockwork, she stopped right at my peak. This time, I couldn’t help but moan in extreme frustration. For a few minutes, I couldn’t stop my legs from shaking violently.
In my mind, I wondered what she wanted from me, what I had to do to get her to stop teasing me so unmercifully. She hadn’t even asked me a question yet. How was I to know what she wanted?
As if she had heard my thoughts, her voice came to me, cloudy with desire.
“Is there anything you want to ask me?”
At first, I honestly didn’t get it, what she wanted. But after a few moments of thinking past my own arousal, I thought I figured it out. Though, I couldn’t/wouldn’t ask for that. What did she take me for? I shook my head ‘no’. She laughed.
“Okay then. I could do this all day.”
Her hands started their dance all over again. Down my nipples, over my stomach, through my neatly trimmed triangle…I groaned. Then I cracked.
“Please!” I blurted out suddenly. It was neither cheeky nor condescending as I had been downstairs. Her fingers stopped.
“Please, what? I’m afraid I don’t understand you.”
“Josie…come on.”
“What’s that?”
“Please, just…”
I raised my hips to get my point across. She chuckled deeply. I felt her shift around, the head of the dildo brushing against me briefly.
“How about I help you out a bit, huh?”
Her hands moved further down, gripping the cock I assumed. I felt it at my entrance moments later.
“Something like that?” she asked. I bucked up again, pushing the tip of the phallus partially inside of me. Not nearly what I wanted, but better than nothing. I sighed. Undoubtedly, seeing my satisfaction, she pulled back.
“Nuh-uh. Ask for it.”
“I want…”
“You want?”
“Ask me, Corey. I’ll give you anything...if you’d only ask for it.”
Her voice dripped so sweetly over me. Like honey. Soothing. Coaxing something from deep inside me. I wasn’t aware she had leaned down, putting both of our bodies in complete contact, until I heard her speak these words so close to my ear.
“Please…please fuck me,” I choked out.
A sense of relief flooded me as I said it. It really was what I wanted after all. Her laugh rumbled deep inside her chest. My heart fell, thinking that maybe it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. I felt her shift. I thought maybe she was getting up.
“Please, Josie. Fuck me,” I said again, desperate this time. At this point, I didn’t care if I was begging.
Then I felt it, the strap-on cock. She moved it slowly inside of me until it was buried to the base. I sighed as she did so, realizing as I relaxed my muscles that I had been pulling to the point of bruising on the scarves that bound my hands above. She pulled out then pushed back in more quickly. I could feel her touching every single part of my insides. I mourned when she pulled out again and rejoiced when she slammed back into me.
We started into a smooth but intense rhythm. My orgasm wasn’t building nearly as quickly as when she was fingering my clit and I was glad. I realized I didn’t really want to cum. I wanted to stay in this singular moment of her fucking me, filling me, forever.
I wondered briefly if this was how she felt when our roles were switched. I wished I could see her face as she did this. She must have looked so satisfied. Again, like she read my mind, I felt her reach up and pull off the blindfold. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust in the low light, but when they did, I saw her staring down at me, smiling as she rode me.
“I love you,” she whispered.
I tried to tell her the same, but found it a bit hard to say anything at all. I managed to squeak out, “Love…you…too.”
She increased her pace. The intentional curve of the dildo banged against my g-spot. I moaned, long and low.
“Feel good?” she asked.
“So good baby…”
It really did. My body was slick with sweat. The smell of us, the sound of us, was all turning me on, pushing me higher. I pulled at my bonds again, groaning in frustration that I couldn’t lay my hands on her beautifully undulating ass or cup the breasts that were now swinging inches from my face. She looked at me struggling and shook her head.
“You know what to do,” she said
“Could you untie me, please.”
She slowed down her thrusting, thinking.
“Only if you behave.”
Which basically meant, I knew, not to switch the current power-play – that I wouldn’t try to dominate her once I was free. For the first time, I honestly had no desire to do so.
“I promise,” I whispered sincerely.
She reached up and within moments I was free. She kept fucking me but I could feel her tense. This time, it was she anticipating me and what I would do. I brought my hands down, running them along her thighs, bringing them up her sides and cupped her breasts, flicking her nipples.
“Yes,” she hissed as she relaxed back into our previous rhythm. I realized suddenly that I was really, really close to cumming. I grabbed her ass, putting a little pressure on, but not directing it as my instincts told me to do. She seemed to go deeper into me, harder and faster than before. I wouldn’t last much longer.
“Oh, oh…fuck baby…” I shouted. “So close…fuck me…”
Part of me wanted to draw back, preserve my strength and power because of the other times she’d brought me to the edge and pulled away. I didn’t want to be disappointed again. But even if she did, I knew I would suffer that and do it all over again. I wasn’t the one in control of this thing.
It felt like someone had lit a match inside of me suddenly, starting with the nerve endings on my skin and fingertips, racing its way to my center, exploding inside of every muscle. I vaguely remember screaming before I took a deep breath and arched into Josie, my body tight as piano wire. I stayed that way, bordering on pain, for what felt like an eternity as my orgasm engulfed me completely. I’d never felt anything so intense before. I think I stopped breathing.
Even after my body fell back to the bed, I was still humping Josie wildly, and she, of course, had never stopped. Another, slightly less intense orgasm hit me and I found myself speaking words even I couldn’t understand. But still, we kept going. I had never done three in a row before, definitely not so soon after one another, but I felt there was more to come. Josie whimpered above me, her face contorting in absolute pleasure and I knew she was cumming too. I had worn that strap-on many times and was well aware of its ingenious design that provided amazing clit stimulation for the wearer.
Seeing her orgasm pushed me over the edge for a third time and I was completely lost for a few moments. I thought I had passed out or something. No sight and a ringing in my ears.
Utterly spent, I let out one last breath and held Josie to me, keeping her from pumping into me anymore. We stayed that way for minutes. Just breathing each other in, calming down. A glowing, sweaty mess. My mind couldn’t even process what had just happened. Josie raised her head, her usually unruly curls even more wild on her head. She looked lost too.
“Shit,” she whispered.
She smiled. Her eyes looked drowsy. I could imagine mine did as well. She kissed me on the lips.
“That was fucking great.”
I nodded in agreement. She pulled out of me, rolling over enough to slip the strap-on over her hips. It dropped over the side of the bed with a thud. With great effort we turned into a spooning position, me at the back. We were that way in the silence of the room for what might have been an hour. My body was exhausted, but sleep was the last thing on my mind. I had no idea I would enjoy such a thing so much.
“You awake?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she replied quietly. “What did you think?”
“I think I liked it,” I said with a sense of wonderment and awe.
“You did?” she said sarcastically, “I really couldn’t tell…”
I laughed.
“Who knew you had such a little control-freak inside you?”
“Who knew a brat like you could be so submissive?”
“I’m not submissive,” I said defiantly.
“Oh, you could have fooled me with all the ‘fuck me please, Josie’ you were shouting.” If I could see her face, I knew she would be smirking. “You absolutely loved that shit. I knew you would.”
“Hmph. Well…”
I didn’t really have an answer for that. She was right though. I did enjoy it. Did that make me submissive…? It was useless to argue about it in the loveliness of this afterglow. So, I just grinned and pulled our bodies closer together. Josie’s ass nestled against my crotch. She ground down onto me and I realized that she had not gotten her release just yet. Not properly anyway.
I slid my hands over her breasts, playing with them for a second before going lower. She clasped her hand around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. I was confused for a moment, because I definitely knew she wanted this. Her barely concealed moans told me that much.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Well, I didn’t say you could.”
I smiled into the crook of her neck as I kissed the skin there. I think a monster might have been created here today. It didn’t take the usual ego gymnastics that it normally would have for me to say…
“May I? Please?”
“All you had to do was ask.”
Weeks later, another dinner party. Friends, exes. Not just any dinner party though. Josephine and I’s engagement party, catered by Mobio, of course. But like any other, the same old talk.
“High maintenance, that’s what I would call it. Corey’s worse than any femme I’ve ever met. Good luck,” said Kim, an ex. That was her form of congratulations to Josie for landing me and settling me down. Encouraging. Josie just shook her head.
“Oh well, it’s not so bad,” she said quietly. “I think you’ll find she’s changed quite a bit. Isn’t that right, baby?”
I was a little distracted. One of my friends was telling a really raunchy joke that had me hanging onto his every word. Josie and I could have been in completely different rooms for the amount of attention I was paying her side of the conversation.
“Yeah, sure,” I mumbled.
I looked down and noticed my champagne glass was empty. I handed it to her without thinking. It was so easy to lapse back into old habits.
“I want some more.”
So engaged in my conversation, I didn’t even notice my glass wasn’t being picked up until I heard her…
It was the way she said it that made me look up; like she said it in the bedroom when she topped me. Forceful and expectant.
My voice automatically slipped into the softer tone I had begun using with her lately. She handed me her own empty glass. The look in her eyes was hungry, a look I loved to see.
“I mean,” I corrected, “would you like something more to drink?”
“That’d be great,” she said with a smile.
I could see my friends and my exes staring at me incredulously. I never got drinks for anyone else. I definitely didn’t ask and I definitely didn’t take orders to go get another drinks. Yet, here I was. Josie winked at me and went back to her conversation like it was nothing. I couldn’t have been happier.
So, that’s the story of how a true brat changed her ways. Now, I’m not saying that I don’t still get what I want…often. Don’t get it twisted. But I have learned that sometimes, in certain special cases with certain special people…not everything has to be about me and what I want…I guess. Sometimes.

The End

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