Second Encounter. Again, this is another true story, written and used with permission, by my little bitch.

Second Encounter

Everything is prepared. I kneel, naked, on the floor of the bedroom, my back rigid and my hands on my knees. The toys are laid out on the end table, and the bed itself is turned down. Patiently, I await her arrival.

The front door clicks. She walks in, locking the door behind her. A moment's pause, then she enters the room. She looks at me, satisfied that I have everything ready for her arrival as ordered. She then tosses an object on the bed beside me.

"Put it in" she says, curtly, then leaves the room to get ready.

The buttplug is small, and pink, with a head just wide enough to make me feel stretched while wearing it. A moment to apply lube and it is nestled deep inside of me – a warm-up for something else later. She returns to the room and finds me kneeling in the same position as before. She does not ask to see evidence of what I've done: she knows that I will be obedient. She stands before me looking magnificent: her street clothes have been shed, replaced by boots, and corsetry, and lacy underwear. She catches my roving eye and scowls slightly; I immediately look downwards and wait patiently. She moves over to the bed, and sits.

So, this is a true story. It happened between me and a friend Saturday night June 20. The friend with whom it happened with is the writer, and he has given permission for me to post it.

Encounter

8:00 p.m.

I am standing in front of her, allowing my eyes to drift over her slowly. Her posture and expression betray her shyness: we are finally alone, the door closed and locked behind us, and now that the moment has come she is nervous about taking the first step. I take it for her: moving up to her I wordlessly move her hair away from her shoulder where it has fallen, obscuring her neck, and plant slow, gentle kisses – starting from her collarbone and moving to a point behind her ear that elicits a delicious moan. All sense of shyness and trepidation evaporates, as our hands start to explore each other. Clothing is shed, and our lips now frantically seeking each other out we move to the bed still locked in our embrace. She lies on the mattress, and I on top of her. My lips move to her neck again, then downwards: at her breasts I linger, pausing to kiss, and lick, and suck both plump nipples, feeling the first harden under my tongue, and the second already fully erect. My tongue strays lower now, criss-crossing her belly, plunging downwards, but then outwards; tracing patterns on the inside of her thigh, moving tantalisingly close to its target, then drifting away. At a moan of protest, I relent, and all of a sudden I am upon her; my tongue working at her clit, the fingers of one hand working inside of her. My world is now her smell and her taste, and the feeling of her legs wrapped around my neck, and her fingers entwined around my hair pulling me inwards. Two days ago it was to my surprise that she told me that she had never had this before, and while I have plans for her, right now all I desire is to give her all of the pleasure that my hands and tongue can provide. Soon the gentle rocking of her hips becomes a desperate thrusting, and she climaxes with a shout. Shudders travel through her like aftershocks, but I am next to her now, my arms around her shoulders, my hands stroking her hair, gently holding her until the sensations subside. We kiss, her lips meeting mine greedily, and delighting in the taste of herself that still lingers.