…I mutely watched it all happen; the feeling of naked abandonment almost overwhelming for me. It's just like a dream come true, but I also expect to see those same headlights come back in a few seconds, and when they don't I start to really listen to what is going on around me. So, this is really what you wanted Jackie? I ask myself cynically, is this really better than getting all close and loving with Kris, even in the back of a moving limo?
I hear the distant highway, somebody's car with a pounding sound system reminiscent of the sounds of the dance club, and I then imagine some of the guys that Kris and I were grinding on perhaps following us here. I had led on them a bit, we both did really, but it was all in fun, just part of the show that we both came for. Once back in Tony's limo Kris could have maybe called one of those guys - or even texted them while I was distracted - telling them where to find the girl they were dance-floor lusting for, all naked, horned up, and just waiting for them, no more teasing. I let my mind wander with those kinds of thoughts, imagining the booming bass stereo getting closer and several guys from the club all piling out of some vehicle and finding me here, like a naked, cuffed and waiting panty gagged hors D'oeuvre on the all-night girl buffet. Would they be disappointed that Kris wasn't here herself to hand me over to them, or relieved that they wouldn't have to share?
I still taste my lingering arousal on my panties, but they're also soggy with saliva now too. I could spit them out, probably, but Kris had put them there, so I assume she wanted them there; and therefore removing them might displease her. I so want to please her instead, to be her perfect date, her perfect girl gift; all to let her take me places that I couldn't possibly go myself, or even with a man. I want to both give and get with Kris, where the men I've entertained were more interested in getting - in as much as one can generalize about such things - except for my own husband obviously. It was his unique station in my life, but this thing with Kris has given me something new to think about in that regard, maybe even competition. I've been down some unique roads myself, and with several wonderful men over the years, doing it drunkenly in the back seat of my husband's own car with his friend, all while my husband drove us to this man's home - to drop he and I off so we could pick up right where we left off - had to be at the top of that list.
…That was a night of over-the-top debauchery that I don't entirely remember, just the highlights, like a noisy orgasm for the both of us while my husband drove us home, people just outside the car at the traffic lights oblivious of the passion just inside, the real reason the car was gently rocking from side to side at the stoplights. How he drove that night without wrecking - knowing what was going on just a few feet behind him - I don't know. I'm of course reminded of Tony, our driver, and the distractions that Kris and I had also made for him. I feel a little bad about that, but also a little naughty too…
I still hear the highway, but nothing closer, and no booming bass either; so they either turned their music off so they could sneak in here, or they went another way… kind of like I find myself going another way with Kris I suppose. I eventually feel something close behind me, a human presence, and then maybe a shallow feminine breath, but I'm just not one hundred percent sure. I'm coming down, cooling off sexually, wondering about my short-term future if Kris doesn't actually come back for me, even in an hour, even just before sunrise. I love, love, LOVE this helplessness, this naked abandonment, although I don't exactly want to end up chained in some stranger's basement as a found and free torture sex toy, never to be seen again. Not a "stranger's" basement anyway!
The cuffs were creative and hot, so much so that I didn't see that one coming. Kris herself is therefore much more than the eye suggests, and trust me when I say that she's a lot to behold physically. Almost any man alive would crawl naked over broken glass just for the privilege of going down on her, as I myself would likely do too. It's lust for another on a completely new scale, but you know what they say, "try new things…"
Then I smell Kris's perfume, and I realize she's here someplace, watching me squirm for her enjoyment. I'm reminded of a song that I can't get out of my head, but this is no high energy dance club thing, the lyrics are soft, mournful, and simple; "'…I want to drown myself in a bottle of your perfume…'"
Again, this is lust for another like I've never felt before, there is simply nothing she couldn't take from me, nothing I wouldn't willingly give to make her happy. Maybe Kris is even that perceptive that she knows this just by looking at me in profile at a distance, in the dark, or maybe she even saw this earlier in that coffee house, saw the lusty possibilities.
"I've been watching you, Buttercup" I hear softly off to my right, and somehow I don't manage to jump out of my skin. I am tethered to this post though, and I did sense her presence too. Just like in the coffee shop her soft words demand my attention, but this time as well I am the proverbial captive audience. She hadn't abandoned me at all, only gave the illusion of such; as far as reasonable safety would allow. I'm pretty helpless here and somebody could take advantage, somebody besides Kris that is. This kind of concern from her sets the stage going forward, and this then means that I can let go and be totally crazy for her, and she will still have my back, still get me home safe.
"I had to cool you off a bit, Buttercup. I have a night in mind, and you getting there ahead of me just won't work for what I have planned" she explains to me, this the closest thing to an excuse, or apologizing for her actions that she's done yet. There is no need though, but I also realize that she may well just want me to know her thought process here, for some as yet undetermined purpose.
"Buttercup?" Is this my new name with her, my term of endearment? I wonder. It's fragile and sweet, but immature too, or perhaps something you would call a horse, something still special and loved, but also less than what you yourself are. Something to be stroked, cared for, provided for too, but also ridden hard and used as a vehicle to take one from here to there, and then of course put away for next time…
"Are you ready to behave yourself, at least until Tony gets us home?" Kris asks.
"Home" not "my" house, or even "the" house, am I reading too much into this with Kris? Home is where the heart is though, and I am conflicted here, conflicted and supremely needy, and yes, against all rational thoughts Kris is reaching for a bit of my heart here. I like other people, even love fooling around with them, but I have up until now successfully resisted falling in love with another, and here with Kris I see the emotional trap.
I shook my head slightly from side to side, still gagged, and not even trying to communicate verbally. It was a soft gesture to match her soft words, Kris more about nuance rather than in your face brashness. If she wanted to talk "with" me I obviously wouldn't be gagged and doing it this way the information she wanted to share was monodirectional; there could be no give and take to this "discussion." It's a continuation of the power exchange that started in the limo, when I had elected to remain on my knees and attempt to serve stunning Kris from that lower station. If I thought deeply about it I could maybe see that she had offered a one-time choice to me, either be with her as a near equal, or in a more subservient role going forward. There can be only one natural feeling option for me once away from my own husband though, but perhaps Kris had to see this aspect of my character for herself first; seeing is believing and all of that. These are actions that confirm the words that I've already shared though, further proof of both my kink, and my submissive sincerity.
I can see Kris off to my right, out of the corner of my eye, just watching and studying, although now closer. I don't try to make eye contact though, I somehow feel unworthy of such, like I as well accept that I'm less than she, although still desirable to her. Before in her closet while getting ready I maybe needed to be built up, and now she maybe realizes that I need to be dominated and put in my place, pretty much kneeling at her perfect proverbial feet and looking up at her. Whether subconsciously or intentional I don't fully know, but my eyes drift to her own awesome shoes, as if downcast in her presence is the only proper direction for them. I am barefoot in comparison, and nude too, lesser cover for the lesser of the two of us. My body is on full display, and apparently still desirable to her.
How does any human, male or female, learn such nuances, when to build up, and when to control and dominate? I actually thought I was good at this kind of thing with my own husband, but it's painful to realize that in this company I'm the rank amateur. Kris could teach me something, if I only had the humility to learn from her. Did Jamie himself play this game for a while, eventually realizing that he would never win with her in the game; that he simply could never measure up? Do I need to reconsider him going forward, perhaps he being judged in my mind unfairly, although girl on girl solidarity does count for something here. One thing is for sure, this certainly isn't meatloaf, not any kind I've ever had anyway.
"I would actually prefer you not to behave, within the limits of what we have going on here. Still there must be a cost associated with your freedom, freedom isn't free after all, and by far the easiest thing for me to do is just collect Tony and go home." Kris moves even closer and pulls the soggy remnants of my panties from my mouth, holding them away from her body at arm's length as if touching the wet material is repulsive, but almost comically so.
She's said what she had to say, and now the ball is in my court, but the method of my continued silence is still at hand, quite literally! Re-gagged and waiting to be found in this nice park by who knows who, or acceptance of whatever terms Kris offers; really it was no choice at all, and I was sincerely grateful to Kris for the no options option here.
"So, my terms of your limited freedom are simple; anything I want I get. I actually want you to repeat that back to me," she tells me. She is smiling now; she has me, and I like being this kind of had. It's a more familiar position for me to be honest; my date is on top. A cat toying with a captured mouse, or a killer whale toying with a baby sea lion maybe? Or even a skilled confident lover taking me almost all the way there, over and over again to build the passion into something truly extraordinary? I wonder.
"Anything that I have to give is yours" I paraphrase back to her with breathless lust and need dripping from every syllable. I'm thinking primarily lusty things with my body, and this particular night, but nothing further though. There will obviously be a tomorrow, and a next week, and even a next year, but I can't think that far ahead distracted as I am. We seal our simple open-ended deal with a kiss, girl box-breath and all. It's sweet, letting me know that Kris is still Kris, but that this "game" of ours is a serious one as well though. She's walking a fine line here between friend and disciplinarian; and the lines between the game and reality are a bit unclear for me, but they don't seem to be for Kris; she has enough confidence for ten men. Does her stunning appearance do this for her, or is it her material success, or maybe some combination of both even?
My nasty panties find their way into the trash next to my ruined expensive dress, so if Kris agrees to take me "home" I'll be traveling there in nothing more than what I was born in. If I don't behave the consequences are obvious, tossed out nude somewhere between here and there. She then releases me from one cuff so I can step away from the pole, but I immediately put my wrist behind my back again, inviting further restraint. Is this more topping from the bottom, or just doing what feels natural with the one appropriately over you?
We walk in the opposite direction from the one we both walked in together, the road around the park a ring road and it an easy thing for Tony to drive there with the lights off to enhance the experience for me. He is out and watching our approach, seeing my naked, cuffed behind my back posture, I smiling sheepishly at him as Kris leads me from behind, telling him I'm okay with all this, that yes, I am a kinky little bitch. I might not be the best-looking nude he's ever seen - he's really a very handsome man and likely has more than a few options himself - but I might be the best looking one in a while, or so his eyes tell me. We ride home like that without further incident, Kris treating me more like a prisoner than an equal from there on in, but this will also allow me to cool off some more sexually. I then wonder how many naked women have ridden in this limo, and then oddly enough what kind of cleaning such a vehicle gets in between customers.
Nobody is up and out to see my cuffed faux perp walk of shame as we enter Kris's house via the front, road-facing door, but they maybe could still be watching from the privacy of their closed shades. I'm briefly reminded of big fat Bob in his ginormous tee shirt, watching me rape my husband's ass while standing there mesmerized with his noisy lawn mower. Truthfully half of that was my own fault; if the shades are open people can look in. If you don't want them to, if you don't want to perform in that kind of show; close them. I'm not into Bob at all, he's nice enough as a neighbor, but he just doesn't rock my world to look at him. If he lost like a hundred pounds, dressed differently, and maybe didn't stare so much I may feel differently though. Less creeped out and more interested, although fooling around with a neighbor has its inherent risks, even an older one.
I don't know why my mind wanders like this, but a crazy insane thought then enters my head; what if the next time I saw Bob all alone, what if I asked him discreetly if he liked the show? What if I asked him if he would like a show like that of his own someday, with me maybe raping his ass instead, or even he mine? I'd make it conditional on him losing some weight, not only for his health, but so he wouldn't crush me to death if he somehow got on top, assuming of course that he was an "on top" kind of man. I could maybe do a little good that way, redirect his voyeuristic lust in a more healthy direction, because we'd both know that he'd never lose that kind of weight, never in a million years collect on my foolish offer…
Once inside Kris's door I start to focus on other things again, feeling safe to be inside instead of out while naked and cuffed. This whole night so far has been surreal, and it's maybe even going to get slightly more wild than that. Tony watched us to make sure we got into the house safely, I left wondering if he would rather be the one taking me home instead. Maybe not though, maybe the fact that I was all hot and bothered like this for another woman, technically his employer for the evening, maybe that put me firmly in the "not interested" column for him.
…Anyway, Kris had graciously thanked Tony a few moments earlier when he opened the limo's door for us, and for my part I didn't know what to even say, nor did I have the ability to even make proper eye contact as Kris's still cuffed faux prisoner. To imagine that I was concerned about flashing him my panties when I got in his limo a few hours earlier is laughable though, but that felt like a lifetime ago to be honest. I instead looked to Kris to do my speaking for me, deferring to her even in this little social thing. What was the proper etiquette for a prisoner in the possession of her jailer after all? I wondered. If nothing else it was pretty clear that I was an owned woman, and it was also pretty clear to all involved who owned me…
Just a few hours ago Kris had gone well out of her way to build me up in this very place, but both my words and actions since had pretty much told her what I was really after, what I needed. This would eventually turn into the perfect complement to what Kris herself needed from a relationship, my desire to be there for a friend in a difficult moment perhaps coming full circle to fruition, but not in the way I envisioned.
Kris released my wrists even though I didn't really want her to, and we kissed, and then we had a serious make out session. I was just so hot from the way the evening went, and I was just as happy to see Kris almost equally hot for me as well. Passion for me is a cumulative thing, and if who I'm with is really getting into it - which is the way it usually goes to be honest - I get something extra from that myself; an exponential bump if you will. Passion builds on passion, which builds on further passion, to the point that you're tearing each other's clothes off, especially with somebody new; like first-time new.
Kris is leading, directing me towards her massive walk-in shower, the thing big enough for a party, and glass on three sides too like an oversized display case. We're kissing all over each other, and in between that she's getting out of her own clothes too, dress over her head and onto the floor, shoes kicked off over there someplace. She's even more stunning in just a pair of panties, small boobs and all. I've already seen her panties once tonight, even tasted her through them, but she's a vision to lose oneself in lust over while exclusively modeling them for me in this particular setting. I'm the luckiest woman alive to simply be here in her presence knowing what's to come, or so I feel. This is the grand prize, and I'm honored to be even this close to it…
I go to my knees before her to strip her the rest of the way, it just feels like my proper place before this stunning woman. She's like a tall Greek statue, champagne glass boobs and all; timeless beauty today, or a thousand years earlier. I'm not in awe of two many people, and few of those are women, but Kris is there with me. She steps out of her panties gracefully for me, smiling down at me with the humbling gesture, but before I can even kiss her there she drags me up and into her shower. The water is hotter than I like it, but it is I, and not the temperature, that needs to adjust. Remaining makeup off and the actual washing part complete, to include my very dirty feet from walking around barefoot half the night… and then we're on to the fun stuff together.
I'm once again on my knees before Kris, but this time in the shower with the hot water hitting my back. She doesn't stop me from exploring her body now though, and I'm loving the exclusive skin on skin contact while simultaneously trying not to drown. I've had this building hunger for her body half the night, and we've even had some detours along the way; it's like she offers, and then pulls back. It's maddening to be honest, like teasing a hungry fish with a shiny lure, right up until it bites and the hook is sunk deep!
Kris tenderly washes my hair for me as I'm down on my knees exploring her body, and it's simply one of the most sensual things I've ever done under running water, as in I'll never think about a trip to the salon the same way ever again; talk about multitasking. I won't say I've never ever done this girl-on-girl thing, but that had been a very long time ago, and it was way more of a drunken dare than anything passionate back then, just to see if I could; if I would… really if she would too. That had been a dare that we got carried away with, and truth be told it was fun and quasi-innocent too, or it would have been without a few rowdy guy friends watching and drunkenly cheering us on.
Kris isn't necessarily in a passionate hurry though, it's almost as if she's saying, "make this take all night long, savor the experience." Men are different, more in a biological rush to plant their seeds as nature intended, and that passionate rush to copulate kind of rubs off on me too. Some do pace themselves a little better than others; just as some can go only once without a lengthy recharge, where others can go again, and maybe even again after that if they're younger, or just that smokin hot and sexy.
I've even done it with more than one man at a time, back-to-back, when I was younger, a teenager really. At one time I could actually do such things, I think the slang term is "pulling a train," but that was a one-off lust fueled experience too, just to see if I could, to see if the fantasy of being taken by several men at once and reality would mesh. I've also had hubby give me all the oral big O's he possibly could, as a kind of kinky birthday gift to see if I had an actual physical limit. I lost count that night around a dozen, and only put the brakes on the experience when I got too sore and raw to continue.
Anyway, this attitude of Kris's rubs off on me, this anything but frantically passionate like a lusted-up man would be. Our make out session was hot like that, but things have again cooled slightly, even in a hot shower with me on my knees, ironically enough. Kris is steering the action though, and I'm along for the proverbial ride, just to see where she's taking me. I feel owned, but valued and owned with the way she had fulfilled my little hot fantasy of being dumped off someplace. Kris even destroyed a brand-new dress that she had lent me while doing so, and that plus the other costs of our single night city date probably makes this the most expensive date I've ever been on. This means Kris is invested too, and I fully plan on making that investment seem a wise one. You only get out what you put into things after all, relationship wise, and it would be impossible to claim that Kris had skimped on anything so far.
We dry each other off after our shower, my hair a complete mess, but somehow hers even looks good like this. My borrowed bangles are still on my wrists but not attached to each other, and Kris helps me out of them. I tell her that I didn't mind them at all, maybe steering the action towards more of that kind of restraint, obviously topping from the bottom, or perhaps just communicating what I'd like from the evening myself, letting her know that this kind of door is open too.
"I have something even better to keep you from escaping from me," Kris informs. We somehow make it to her big bed, kissing our way there, the passion flaring again. I'm on my back with her on top of me and physically dominating me bodily, pinning my wrists over my head as we make out some more. Then my face ends up almost in her steaming nether regions, and her knees end up on my biceps, preventing me from attempting the escape that I don't want to make. She then reaches over to her nightstand and pulls out a thick pair of wool socks, rolling each one on a single hand and doubling them over on my wrist area. I'm perplexed, but she has a goal, and so far this night her goals pretty much align with my own, so I passive watch.
Next out of her drawer is a pair of very real looking police handcuffs, and with my hands left and right of a single iron bar of her massive headboard she reaches over and ratchets them snug on the far side of the bars, trapping me on her bed until such time as she sees fit to release me. I feel my own lust peak, I just love this level of physical control. We make eye contact once she's done, and my eyes I think convey my desire; let her know that she's pushing all the right buttons here.
She's not done though; she and her very sexy smirk pull a second pair of cuffs from her drawer, and for a moment I wonder what she intends. With theatrical slow progress she shows them to me up close, and then ratchets these closed as well over the socks that I'm wearing on my hands, she unnecessarily pointing out that both keyholes are facing away from my hands, and that plus the socks means that even if she put the keys directly into my hand, I still likely couldn't escape. I can't explain this feeling, but the socks, plus two pairs of cuffs, plus sexy Kris trapping me like this, does something extraordinary for me.
I want her to either get up off my boobs and arms, or allow me to feed on her womanhood, but I just need something like right NOW! I manage to crane my neck and reach the object of my lust and take a quick taste - I hadn't even come close to finishing the deal in the shower for her - but she pulls back and effortlessly dismounts like a gymnast; there is no hurry, I'm not going anywhere now. She instead feasts on my boobs, getting to intimately know the one, and then the other, all as she lifts and holds them, and I feel like crawling out of my skin when she does it feels so damn good. If there is one single part of me that she herself envies, it's my chest, so her interest is understandable. Mine are real though, and so is gravity, so at my size they settle when I'm on my back, but again Kris is all over them. She's toying with me, toying with them too, flicking her tongue, using her perfect teeth, tormenting my boiling body in a hundred different ways, but I have little recourse other than to beg, which I shamelessly do. Tickle torture comes next on my exposed flanks, and with her straddling my hips I can't even wiggle away, hysterically laughing myself to out of breath exhaustion.
Any man alive would already be inside of me, giving me what I desperately need, taking what he desperately wants as he plants his seeds deep; but not this lover, she's a tormentress, a playful she-devil! I've tormented my own husband a time or two, with both extended chastity, and simple physical denial when I've been feeling playfully evil, I'm ashamed to say. I don't leave him wanting so much as interested, or so was my intention. This is still a little of my own medicine coming back at me, the boomerang effect, and I don't know that I like it, although it's not truly evil at heart.
Kris warms me up and cools me off several more times, her creativity in matters of lovemaking just limitless. I had thought that I was good at thinking outside of the proverbial box, but this lover was schooling me, and class was definitely in session. My heart is pounding in my chest and I'm perspiring like mad, I just have so much unanswered sexual frustration that I think I'm going to explode. I'm wreathing all over the bed like a captured and angry snake, and I wonder if this is an inherited reflex action, one to make oneself look more helpless and therefore desirable, perhaps something from back in caveman days. If my hands were free I think I would have already taken matters into my own hands and ground myself off once, but I had also offered this level of control specifically, so it comes down to, "be careful what you wish for…"
"I think I've tortured you enough… for now" Kris tells me huskily, perhaps this extended foreplay taking her to the edge of sanity as well maybe. With her inverted overtop of me and her magnificent legs sticking through the bars of her headboard left and right of my own head and uselessly cuffed wrists, she lowers her gushing womanhood to my hungry lips. I dive in like I'm starving. I had my first brief taste of her in the limo some time earlier, but much has happened since then too. She's overtop of me as well, and she then takes her own forbidden first taste of my gushing nether regions, we in a proper girl on girl sixty-nine with each other, only in my case my hands are useless.
I'm not truly experienced at this, but maybe just a bit more than Kris is. She's tentative in her first ever taste of me, exploring this new and forbidden territory cautiously. Maybe this isn't exactly a first step on the moon for me, but maybe it's HER first step on the moon! Up until now she's been in the driver's seat on this date of ours, and she's still on top, but she now has the unique position of controlling something she's not familiar with. She's out of her comfort zone maybe, or just cautious perhaps. What I had thought was teasing, giving and then pulling back even, maybe is just her own cautious curiosity instead, knowing what she wants, but not exactly how to get there physically; she building herself up passion wise for that first big plunge into the unknown.
A less courageous woman would have placed me on my knees before her and let me serve her to completion, show her how it's done, maybe even we both schooling each other in this girl-on-girl thing if it was a first time for both of us. She hasn't done that though, she's given me what I need, what I want from this experience, and then she thought about her own needs secondary to that. My husband almost always takes care of me first, when he physically can, and here Kris is heading in that same direction too, a competing direction. It's a lot to ponder, as is the fact that I'm letting each do this for me, putting my needs above their own, despite my internal claims otherwise. It's some painful introspection, or it will be when I have some time to sort it out more fully, but for now I'm just gonna rock Kris's world the best way I know how..
Not that I do something and Kris emulates it right after, but there is an element of that with us, and while Kris can teach me a great deal, I maybe have the slight advantage here, despite my bound on my back positioning…
Not to beat a dead horse or anything, but Kris and I got to know each other's bodies quite well that night, the sun just coming up by the time we were too exhausted to continue, the large room smelling bad like lusty girl sex, a smell that takes me all the way back to that awesome dare that friend and I had once…