Kurt sat on the edge of the bed. "Move so you're lying properly. Get comfortable." I started to stand up, but he pressed me back with a hand on my stomach. "Not like that. Crawl." His voice was quiet and firm, and I felt a tingle move up my spine and out to my nipples, which stiffened even further.
I obeyed, pulling my legs up and turning over to crawl up into the bed. Then I turned over and lay down as if I were preparing to go to sleep, my head on a pillow. "Good girl." There was a hint of warmth in his tone, and I found that I liked that. I could begin to see why a submissive might strive to get that note of pleasure into their Dom/me's voice.
Kurt pulled my feet over into his lap, and began to give me a foot massage, carefully probing and manipulating each section and toe. "This will help relax you. And I enjoy it. I think you remember that." He worked in silence for a moment, then said, "You may speak to me unless I tell you to be silent. But be careful of you words and tone. I wouldn't want to have to punish you so soon."
"Thank you." His eyes flashed up at me, and I felt a small, but sharp pinch on my calf. Hastily I said, "Sorry. Thank you, Sir."
He nodded. "Just think about what you'd want from Thomas, Emily," he continued. When his fingers touched my bad ankle, I stiffened a little in apprehension. Yes, I trusted him, but I couldn't help it. I'd had to be so careful of it for so long. "Be easy, Emily," he soothed.
His touch was light, gentle. He bent, and kissed the scar that indicated where they'd gone into my flesh to knit together my bone with steel. I shivered as he slowly drew his tongue up the shiny ladder of stitches, carefully swiping over each cross-hatch.
"You think this is ugly, Emily. It isn't. It's beautiful. It's a reminder of your strength, your determination. It shows how much you are capable of overcoming. It's part of what and who you are."
He kissed his way slowly up my calf. Then he spent a moment stroking gently behind my knee, just where the flesh creased at the joint. I found myself shivering almost uncontrollably. I had never realized how tender and sensitive the skin there was.
"Open you legs."
There are some phrases that just automatically get a reaction from you, but what type of reaction depends on the circumstances and who's saying them. Open your legs is one right up there with take off your clothes. It makes a lot of difference if you're hearing it in a bedroom from a sexy guy than if you hear it in a fluorescent-lit room, while you're standing in front of a table with stirrups at the foot.
In any case, my reaction was a slick feeling between my legs. I parted them, and Kurt moved to lie comfortably between them on his belly. He hooked his arms over my legs, holding me so that I couldn't have moved if I'd wanted to. I WAS going to want to shortly, but not to escape.
He started to suck a hickey on the inside of my left thigh. He used suction and teeth to bring a reddish mark to the surface of my skin, then paused to admire it. "What do you think, Emmie?"
"I think Thomas may very well have a fit. Serves him right."
Kurt bit me: not viciously, but enough to make me yelp. "I'm not doing this to punish Thomas," he said sternly. "To begin with, it wouldn't be my place, as he's YOUR submissive. To finish with, I don't believe in using someone to punish someone else. Rather a cowardly thing to do." I felt ashamed of myself. I'm pretty sure that was what he intended. "I don't think it's quite good enough. It will probably fade in a day or so, and I'd like you to have a remembrance for awhile longer." He set to work again, this time bringing his teeth into play.
It hurt, but I was beginning to get very wet. Especially since he paused every now and then to blow a hot breath on the crotch of my panties. At last the patch was the deep blue-black-purple of wine grapes. "Yes, much better, " he murmured. Then he turned his head and buried his face against my groin.
I almost came up off the bed, but Kurt had me too firmly. I had to just lie there while he spent several leisurely minutes licking and rubbing his face on the fast dampening cotton. "Emmie," he whispered. "I'm just going to move the material to the side a little. Don't get the idea that you can do the same later. I'll punish you if you do. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Kurt."
"My good girl." I felt him pull the fabric aside, and then there was the hot, slick touch of his tongue. I moaned, closing my eyes. Thomas had done this to me many times before, but this was somehow different. Not better, not worse, but different.
Where Thomas had been gentle and almost deferential at times, Kurt was more direct: firm and demanding of my responses. He didn't hesitate to use his teeth, if he thought that would get him the reaction he sought. It wasn't long before I was tender, throbbing, and awash in my own juices. I felt slightly scraped, and bruised. And I didn't use the safe word. God, no. I didn't want it to stop.
When he finally pressed forward and slithered his tongue up inside me, I spasmed. He gripped me even tighter, still swirling his tongue into my quivering core. His thumb pressed hard against my clitoris, and I climaxed again almost immediately. I'd heard that women could experience multiple orgasms, but... Well, I'd been skeptical. Kurt made a believer out of me.
Still he didn't stop. I don't know how long it went on. The man must have had incredible jaw muscles. Finally I was little more than a puddle in the bed, not able to do much more than shake and moan.
This seemed to be what he was waiting for. Suddenly I found him moving up my body, pushing my legs apart with his knees. I glanced down between our bodies, and had a second to wonder hazily when he'd managed to put on a condom. But the sight gave me a zing of triumph, though the exaltation had a bitter undertone. Wasn't going to fuck me, huh? Take that, Thomas Langely.
But... Ever notice how many psychics seem to speak with an accent? As he was positioning himself on top of me, Kurt laughed. I could feel it rumbling through the body that was pressing down on me. "You think I'm giving in, and will give you my cock, because I put on the rubber? Proud little submissive!"
He bent his head, passing a hot tongue over a nipple that was aching and blood engorged from it's long period of arousal. "No, Emmie. I told you: I won't be the one to take your cherry. But I need this because all that will be between us is a thin, wet piece of cloth, and nature is wonderfully determined when it comes to procreation. Sperm can travel where you would never believe they could, and I'm not risking that. Much as I love you, I don't want to get you pregnant."
"Now," His entire weight came down on me. "I will not be the first to go inside you, Emmie, but I am the first man ever to lie atop you, between your legs. You will remember me. You will remember this." It was both a promise, and an order I knew I would have no trouble obeying.
I felt a hot, blunt press against my sopping crotch. My greedy flesh seemed to flow open in an attempt to take it in, but the cloth barrier held. Kurt pushed his hips forward, and I could feel the delicate scrape of the wet cotton against the slick, puffed lips of my sex. I groaned, and threw myself up at him, craving just a little more, just a tiny bit of penetration. I seemed to have gone hollow, and I desperately wanted to be filled.
He moved against me, rocking slowly. His cock slid the length of my sexual crease, back and forth. He reached between us, hand slipping inside my panties to rub the slick little knob of my clitoris as he dry humped me. By that time, the term dry was strictly relative. I was so dripping that I would have been embarrassed, if I was in my right senses at the time.
I kept struggling to push up just a little more, gain just another scant millimeter of that heated flesh inside my own flesh. But Kurt used his other hand to grasp my hip, holding me down firmly. I might as well have been strapped to the mattress. Soon I was making a low, continuous whine of frustrated lust.
"What's wrong, Emily?" he whispered against my ear.
"Kurt, please!" Oh, Jesus, was that begging I heard in my voice?
"Please what, Emmie?"
"Oh, you bastard!" A pinch just below my left breast sent a tiny dart of pain through me, generating even more heat, something I wouldn't have believed possible. "Master, please!"
Kurt kissed my cheek, continuing to move. "Please what, pet?"
"You know."
"Yes, I know. I know what you want and what you need. But do you? Tell me. Say it."
I turned my head away. He sighed. "All right. I thought we might have a breakthrough here, but I can see you are a remarkably stubborn woman, Emmie. So..." He grabbed my hips with both hands. "We'll just finish it, shall we?"
He started to slam against me with breath taking speed and power. I was buffeted. I couldn't participate, all I could do was ride it out, experience it. His hard flesh rubbed and scraped against the moist folds of my sex, and I was coming again, too weak now to do more than whimper in astonishment. He felt my response, and he smiled down at me, friend and Dom mingled in his expression. As my friend, he was pleased that he was giving me such pleasure. As my Dom... Well, it was just what Doms did, wasn't it? He had a sense of all being right with the world.
I could tell when his own orgasm struck. I'd seen him a few times in the throes of the ultimate pleasure, but as a friend. This time I saw the Dom in him achieve completion. His handsome face went very still for a moment, lips drawn back from his teeth, eyes very intent on mine. A wracking shudder went through his big body, and he rammed against me once more. I marveled that the cloth of my panties didn't split with that last stab, and let him in despite both our intentions.
At last he rolled off of me. I watched, panting, while he stripped off the condom, tied a knot in it with the dexterity of someone who has had a lot of practice, and flipped it into the wastebasket. Then he took a handful of tissues and wiped himself off before lying back beside me again, and pulling me into his arms for a snuggle. The scene was over. Master Bremin had left, and my friend Kurt was back.
After a little while he said, "So, how do you feel?"
"Odd."
"How so?"
"Kurt, I lost track of the orgasms I had."
"You're welcome."
"Yes, thank you, but that's not what I meant. I had all those climaxes, but..." I trailed off. I felt foolish.
"But you don't feel satisfied." He sounded calm. "It was what I expected, Emily. You need one particular thing, and you're not going to be satisfied till you have it."
"And that one thing is?"
"You already know. You're just not ready to admit it."
I pulled out of his arms, got up, and started to get dressed. "I'm going to put you up for an advise column somewhere, really I am Kurt."
He watched as I gathered my clothes. "You can take a shower before you go."
"No, I don't think so. I'm eager to go back down to the lounge."
"But Emmie, if you go out in public like that, they'll think..."
I turned glittering eyes on Kurt, and smiled sweetly. "That's right."
He frowned, looking troubled. "Oh, Emmie! You won't. You wouldn't do that to poor Thomas."
"Sorry, Kurt. I didn't intend for it to work out like this, but it looks like you're going to help me pay him back anyway, at least a little. And I will be very upset with you if you choose to enlighten anyone about what really just happened."
He sighed. "What is that old saying about picking your own nose to spite your face?"
"Still haven't gotten the colloquialisms quite right, Kurt. That's cutting off your own nose." I held my hand in front of my face and scissored the first two fingers together. "Snip snip."
