There’s something to be said for persistence.
I don’t remember when the nature of our relationship changed. We were satellites to our shared network, never friends exactly, just managed to turn up with a lot of the same people are roughly the same time.
He was always vaguely unsettling. I never felt threatened by him, but he flustered me, which largely seemed to amuse him.
The first time he was very subtle. Looking back I could see exactly what he was doing. It wasn’t a serious attempt to get my attention, more a nudge against my consciousness. He ordered my drink at the bar before I had a chance to speak, same thing I had been drinking all evening. He paid for it and didn’t pursue the matter. Left me with a wink and a vague frustrated need to thank him for a drink he hadn’t offered and I hadn’t asked for.
I barely saw him the rest of that night.
The second time, weeks later, was more direct.
He chose his moment when I was at the bar, again, alone.
Still in sight of our friends he appeared behind me, while I was waiting to be noticed. I felt his presence before he spoke, His hand on my back, almost innocently…almost.
He spoke very low in my ear that I should let him take care of me, his voice thick with suggestion and he slid himself between me and the guy I was pressed up against at the bar. I was too frozen in place to protest. His breath in my ear, on my neck where he had lingered had triggered a response I wasn’t expecting, he re-positioned me easily.
After he had been served we returned to our friends, I found myself hyper aware of his presence in the group, surreptitiously watching his movements all evening, unconsciously listening for his voice…remembering its effect on my body.
He caught me looking once or twice, and his smile was pure wolf.
The third time he closed the distance.
It was a party at a good friends place, I intended to stay over so I was a lot more chilled out than I might have been otherwise. Not looking to get drunk but definitely relaxed and giggly by the time he showed up.
I hadn’t been expecting him. It hadn’t occurred to me that he would be there at all. The fact that it was a shock, shocked me.
He mingled for a while, didn’t acknowledge my presence, I was busy with friends anyway and hadn’t thought much beyond my initial surprise.
He found his moment though, cornered me in the kitchen when I was getting more snacks.
He crowded me against the kitchen counter, no smiles, pure intent. The playful had evaporated into something a lot more purposeful.
He kissed me without speaking to me, He didn’t catch me by surprise exactly, the way he shut the door behind him as he entered made his intentions perfectly clear, but the intensity of his action caught me off guard. He was usually the clown, the joker, but he was after a different sort of attention now, and I’d never seen him so serious, the contrast was arousing, as was his surety, his control.
He kissed me while he trapped me against the stone counter, using his body as a shield to stop me moving. I didn’t resist but the thought I wouldn’t be able to was the thing that really kept me there. I wondered if he’d actually restrain me if I struggled. The thought made me wet.
His hands were on my hips, pulling me against him as he kissed me, fingers curled into the belt loops of my jeans as he kissed down my neck.
I let him unbutton the top of my shirt, my hands rested ineffectually against his chest.
I began to wonder if he intended to strip me right there in the kitchen but our sanctuary was disturbed by a guy looking for ice. A friend of a friend. My brain struggled to recall his name through the submissive fog my pursuer had summoned over my mind.
Ice guy seemed oblivious as he dug around in the freezer.
I found myself led out of the kitchen, up the stairs to the spare room, the room I’d been offered for the night.
He hadn’t taken my hand, He had led me by my wrist, his hand felt enormous around me and his pace was quick enough to make me scurry to catch up.
The room was quiet in comparison to the rest of the house, the party was mostly downstairs. I’d slept in this room many times, and he had clearly been in here before too.
Still no pleasantries though. He resumed his insistence against the inside of the door, kissing me hard, hands in my hair, cold wood against my back.
I began to get a sense of his intention when he ran one hand up my neck and pressed his thumb against my bottom lip holding my head in place while he unbuttoned my shirt the rest of the way. I bit down gently and he smiled. Called me a good girl and unbuttoned my jeans.
He stepped aside suddenly and indicated I should undress the rest of the way myself.
He watched me do it while he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves.
Feeling very exposed I must have looked nervous. He seemed to pick up on it and gave me something to do.
With what I would now guess was practiced ease he gestured for me to ‘get down’. The same tone of voice I was more accustomed to hearing when a dog was on a sofa they shouldn’t be and knew it.
I kneeled, it was comfortable enough on the carpet and I was eager. As was he, though he took his time unveiling.
He didn’t let me touch for a long moment. Let me look while he got comfortable. I knew my impatience was visible, I didn’t care.
“Want a treat?” he asked, and I was reminded of that fictional dog again. I nodded, my willingness to verbalize evaporating lest it pull me out of the headspace I was enjoying.
He moved forward a fraction of an inch and allowed me forward, keeping a steady stream of “good girls” and “that’s it” going until I was as eager to please him as he was to be pleased.
His cock was smooth, warm. I relished the weight of it on my tongue and explored. Pushing to take him deeply or teasing him with sensation.
He withdrew before things got too far, I knew my face was flushed, my lips red and stretched. I was beyond self consciousness though, beyond nervous energy. He had centered my focus on him and it had become pinpoint.
He asked me if I was wet, it took a moment for the question to register. I nodded, knowing I was blushing.
He kissed me again while he tugged his jeans off.
His eyes flicked to the bed and he held out his hand. It was a reassuring gesture, one that was reinforced when he took a moment to gather me up for more kisses before laying me out on the covers.
He explored me for a while, in a way that made me ache for restraints. He murmured praise as he went, enjoying my responses. He expressed surprise at just how wet I was and I blushed deeply.
“How can you suck cock so enthusiastically and be embarrassed by that?” he asked.
I simply told him I enjoy doing it..I had no more complicated answer than that.
He scooted up the bed and gave me another chance to show how much. He played with my hair while I did and the way he stroked the back of my neck made me think of leather and buckles.
It took me a moment, engrossed as I was, to realise his language had changed. He was reinforcing a job well done. Directing me and praising me. I began to respond to it, chasing praise and trying harder to please him.
Until he lifted my head and asked if the pretty puppy needed to be fucked.
I dropped like a stone. Space overwhelming me. All I could do was nod. I’d never been called that before, I wasn’t prepared for its effect on me.
He took his time penetrating me. Inching in and backing off in a series of reading strokes that let me know exactly how much he was in control. If I pushed back to me him he pulled away.
I whimpered and clutched at the covers, desperate to be full and he chuckled. Clearly amused by me. “Eager puppy,” he said “good girl, what a slut”
I whined. His words having as much effect on me as his teasing.
He tired of the game soon enough and surged forward. Making me gasp and arch against him. He wasted no energy, every thrust intended to fulfill us both.
His hands wandered for a while before he came to rest pinning me under him, my wrists against the mattress as he fucked me into it.
By now he was a little rougher, his kisses had turned to bites, my shoulder, my breasts, my neck. He tested his teeth on my skin as he drove us both to the edge. I lifted up to met him again and again until I came, tensed and loud, straining against his grip.
In contrast he came very quietly. Grunting and growling. His gaze was intense, possessive. He kissed me as he did, punctuating his gasps with more praise.
He fucked me twice more that night and bought me breakfast on the way home from the party the next day.
We hooked up every so often, but he moved away for work a few months later. I still think of him sometimes.
Wonder if he ever found a pet to keep.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/5wblmr/mf_treats_light_petplay_first_encounter