I fought it off for two days, but on the third day I gave in. Anita and I had agreed to take things slowly – we would see each other next weekend, and in the meantime, we would not look for each other at work. But on Wednesday, I couldn’t hold back any more, and went to her office.
“Do you have an appointment this evening?” I asked bluntly, standing in the door opening. Anita looked up and shook her head – a faint smile decorating her lips.
“Then I’ll see you at six at the parking place!” I walked off, not awaiting her reply. After all, it was she who had insisted that I should take control.
When I left the building at six, Anita was waiting by my car. She didn’t speak, but her smile said it all.
First, we went to her house where she gathered some clothes for the next day. We did some grocery shopping, and finally we arrived at my house. While busying in the kitchen, I tried to pass the time with some small talk; Anita was ill at ease…
The previous weekend, Anita had told me she wanted me to take control; to challenge her; to dominate and test her. But she’d also told me that she feared she would chicken out; expected she would object when the time was there, and told me to be persistent if needed. As long as I respected her, and made sure everything would stay between her and me… …And now she seemed to rethink those bold words… No chit-chat, no smart-mouthing…
We had a quick and simple diner and it didn’t go unnoticed to Anita that I tried to keep her wineglass filled. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” she asked, a nervous thrill sounding trough her voice.
“Not necessarily drunk,” I replied, “but it would be nice to have you loosened up a bit, for what I have in mind!”
She didn’t ask any further, but my reply had probably made her even more anxious – she didn’t touch her wineglass anymore, but took more water instead.
“So…” I said, after diner was finished. “So…”
For a moment, I didn’t know how to continue, but then I said: “I think you told me that you wanted me to take the lead; to challenge you…”
I watched her face, waited her reaction, and Anita nodded, nervously.
Then I stood up, and walked to the living room, silently; Anita following me.
I closed the curtains, and then turned to Anita. “I think I have a challenge for you. Are you ready?”
Anita nodded again, hesitantly.
“I can’t hear you!” I tried to raise the suspense, and Anita softly whispered “Yes Sir, I’m ready.”
“I want you to pull down your jeans!”
“Should I take of my shoes first, Sir?”
I shook my head. “No, just pull down your jeans; down to your ankles!”
She took a deep breath, then loosened the belt, and wiggled her jeans over her hips without unbuttoning; smoothly, they fell down on her feet. No resistance; not even hesitance. That surprised me. She was nervous, but had no problems taking down her trousers. I wondered how far I had to go before she started to get uncomfortable.
“And those too” I said, pointing to the pants. “Slowly…”
I expected some reluctance this time, but Anita hooked her thumbs behind the elastic band, and slowly pulled her undies down, giving quite a show by alternatingly pushing both sides down, bit by bit. It looked really hot… really…
I had been turned-on from the moment I decided to take her home; but now, experiencing the power she gave to me; watching her following my commands without wavering… Giving in to my wishes… My body flushed with lust. Watching her, standing like this, jeans around her ankles, showing her pussy in the middle of my living room… It took all effort not to lose control and give in to my primal instinct. “My god,” I whispered, “You’re freaking hot!”
Anita blew me a kiss; shameless… Actually… this made me feel uncomfortable; insecure… where DID her boundaries lay…
“Turn around!” I ordered, and Anita complied, slowly; her moves hindered by the jeans around her ankles.
“And now, I want you to lie down on the sofa, and show me how you make yourself come!”
I was pushing my luck, wondering how far she would go for me. This had been on my mind when I had told her to come with me, and so far, her obedience was far beyond my expectations – I never expected her panties to go down so easily – I wondered if I could make her take the next step.
But now, Anita bucked. Apparently this was not what she had expected. “Sorry; I can’t do that! Please, don’t expect me to do this!”
Even in this position, she sounded resolute; as if she was the one in control.
Somehow, I felt relieved by her rejection; that she did have her boundaries, although it also occurred to me that she might be testing me. However, it did give me the opportunity to remind her that it was me, who was in charge.
“What’s the problem? We’ve already had sex together; last weekend was quite extreme I would say, and it was you, who initiated that. So what’s the problem now doing as I say?!”
“Last week özbek escort was not the same! You’re asking me to put up a show; to humiliate myself. You are asking me to expose myself, and that’s not what I want to do!” Her confidence started to show some cracks, but she still stood erect; watching me straight in the eye. However, her objections sounded unfeigned.
“I think, what matters now, is what I want at this moment; not what you want! You told me before, you wanted to be challenged; you wanted to be dominated! So now you’ll have to put the money where your mouth is!”
Somehow, I was slightly irritated by her attitude, her confidence. It made me determined to get things my way – to gain control over the situation. She was the one who started this, so now she should stop complaining and start submitting herself! I didn’t expect her to follow all of my demands, but at least she should follow the game and change her attitude. She should bend for me.
Anita took a deep breath, as if she was preparing to provide a sharp answer, but remained silent. Her eyes, however, flashed with anger, and I feared that I’d gone too far. For a moment, I thought about backing up – it was all a game, after all, wasn’t it? It wasn’t worth a fight.
However, after a short stand-off, Anita managed to control herself, took another deep breath, and another, and all of a sudden, her body slackened, as if she finally gave in… or gave up. She sank down on the sofa. But then I heard her softly whispering: “What happens if I now say ‘Red’ to you?”
This sudden change took me by surprise. I didn’t expert her attitude to be such an empty shell, shattered by the first, the slightest friction…
I also took place on the sofa, next to her, and took her hands in mine; taken aback by the sudden change in atmosphere but relieved that the tension was gone.
“If you use your code-word,” I started, “then I will tell you to put your jeans back on.” I looked at her face, which was turned to the floor. “I will ask you” I continued, “if you want to go to the cinema with me; we might have a few drinks afterwards, and then, I hope, you will come back home with me.”
“So you won’t be angry with me?” her voice now filled with uncertainty.
“I won’t be angry with you.” I promised, speaking softly. “I am challenging you; I want to find out where your boundaries are. If we want to make this thing work, than I need to know what I can and what I can’t make you do; what you will and what you won’t do for me. So you need to tell me – you need to tell me whenever you want me to stop, but I may try to push it a little further.” – Yes, I’ve read my share of stories too.
“The safe-words should protect both of us.” I continued. “Protect our relationship. You really need to use them whenever you feel that things go too far; it’s in the interest of both of us. I have no clue how far you want to take this, and none of us benefits when I am pushing you beyond your limits; that will eventually be the end of us together…”
“What will happen, after we come back tonight? Will you ask me again to do this?”
“No, I won’t. If you say ‘Red’, it means this is off the record. I won’t ask you this anytime soon. But I may want to talk about it in a few weeks’ time; about your and my feelings about this.”
“Will there be consequences? Will you punish me, for not following your orders?” Now she seemed like some small schoolgirl, fearing the consequences of an aberration…
“No, I will not punish you for something that is too much of a challenge. I may reward you if you fulfill my demands,” – I couldn’t believe I actually said that… – “but I won’t punish you otherwise. But I really do want you to show me how you make yourself come.” I put up some more pressure.
“But why should I do this?” Anita asked me; a high pitched voice of incomprehension. “Why would I humiliate myself, when we can go out and have a good time together?”
“You tell me!” I replied. “Why do you want this?”
Anita looked at me, confused. “Who said that I want this?”
“You told me, in a way…”
Anita remained silent for a moment, slowly shaking her head; probably thinking it over.
I remained silent too, and eventually she tried “… Because… because you like it?…”
“This is not about me.” I said. “Why do YOU want this?”
Another silence. Then a hesitating “Because I want to please you?”
“Is it only about me? As far as I remember, it was the other way around – I think it was you who came to me; trying to convince me to start all this!”
“Yes, I want you to challenge me, but I don’t know if this is what I want…This is degrading; humiliating…”
“It’s not my intention to humiliate you – for me, that’s not what this is about! I am curious – I want to see what it looks like, when you have an orgasm. I want to be allowed to witness, to experience this intimacy. And I want to know how you do that… And…” and now I started to get uncomfortable… mecidiyeköy escort “… and I think I would like to see… it would be a confirmation of…”
“So you think this would prove that I submit to you?” Anita said, hesitantly…
“Kind of…but, for me… you don’t have to prove anything for me; we don’t have to do this. But it’s your dream; you told me you want me to dominate you. And then, I think this should be something we could try… On the internet, this is often presented as one of the easy things; something a slave likes doing, as it pleases her Master… But maybe we should skip this for now; get to know each other first, learn to trust each other, before we continue…”
Anita took a deep breath; sighed; shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s true; I want this… I can try, and if I’m uncomfortable, I’ll stop!”
“Let’s just leave it for now; I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable about… Maybe we can do this another time.”
Anita straightened up a bit and sighed “What do you want me to do?”
“Are you sure? – you don’t have to…”
“Just let’s give it a try, ok?” Apparently Anita made up her mind, and now all of a sudden she sounded impatient again; apparently she wanted to get over it…
I stood up and moved to the chair opposite to the sofa. From there, I had a good view on Anita.
“Ok then; put your feet on the sofa!”
Now, Anita obeyed, slowly; but still appearing reluctant.
“And now start playing with yourself!”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Do the things you normally do. But tell me – tell me what you do and how it feels.”
Anita remained impassive.
“Stroke your pussy for me!”
She swallowed, but finally her hand moved between her legs, where it remained impassive.
After a while, I told her to start stroking. She did, and after her hands stroked her pussy a few times, she asked me: “Do you want me to make it wet?”
“Is it dry?” I replied, redundantly and then, after she confirmed, “Do you normally make it wet?”
“Normally I don’t have to…”
“So maybe you should stroke the rest of your body first – warm yourself up a bit! You’re the expert of your body; you know better than me what to do!! That’s why I want you to show me! Do it, and tell me what you feel!”
Anita started stroking her thighs.
“Tell me what you feel!” I reminded her.
“I’m feeling cold!” she complained.
It wasn’t that cold in the house, so I told her to continue. “What else do you feel?”
“I am feeling nervous; uncomfortable. Very tense.”
“Ok.” I replied. “And what else? Does it turn you on?”
“I don’t think so. I am feeling a bit nauseous.”
Perhaps I should have stopped her there – she had demonstrated that she was willing to follow my orders, even though she opposed them. However, I felt like she needed just a little more pressure to be pushed over the edge. But is she didn’t soon…
“Ok, keep stroking yourself.”
Silence again.
“Good… Can you use one hand to stroke your breasts now?”
“Can I take off my shirt and my bra?”
I hesitated, but decided against it. “You may push it aside, but don’t take it off.”
Anita complied. She pushed up her pull-over up as far as possible, and then one of her hands moved over to her breasts.
“Can you push your bra away, so you can touch your nipple? And can you tell me how it feels?”
She complied – she pushed the fabric down, and brusquely let the palm of her hand rub the nipple.
“Be sensitive!” – I commanded – “You know this is not what I want! Stroke it with your fingers; be gentle!”
She hesitated, but then started stroking her nipple with the tip of her fingers.
“What do you feel?”
Silence.
“Your nipples – how do they feel? Are they hard?”
Anita nodded; her body still very tense.
“Speak to me! Are they hard because of the cold, or because you are getting turned on?”
Another flush of red moved over her cheeks. “Both, I think…”
Perhaps that was the start of a change I was waiting for… I kept my eyes locked on her body. While the one hand moved over her breasts, I could see the strain in the other hand receding; it started moving a bit more fluently over her belly and thighs. And also, the muscles in her face less tense than before.
“Can you use both hands on your breasts for a moment?”
Anita pulled her second hand up too. I could see the pull-over was hindering her movements (and my view), so I told her to take it off, but insisted that the bra stayed on. So Anita took off her pull-over, and then started kneading her breasts, pushing and rubbing them through the fabric of her bra. Although she was still tense, I could see her putting a little more care in her motions.
“How is your pussy?” I asked, after a while. “Is it getting wet?”
Slowly, one hand moved to her pussy, and the feeling seemed to surprise her. She nodded.
azeri escort “What?” I asked.
“Yes, I am getting wet” she replied, a touch of shame sounding through her whispering voice. I nodded.
For a moment, she remained motionless. “Go on!” I encouraged her, and her hands started moving again, one hand stroking her breast, the other hand stroking her thighs; between her legs.
“How does it feel?” I asked once more.
“What, my nipples?” she replied, perhaps ashamed to tell her feelings directly to me without having clear orders.
“Yes, your breasts, your pussy, … everything”
“My nipples are hard, and my pussy is wet.” she replied, clearly trying to get over it as soon as possible.
But I didn’t let her off so easily. “Tell me more. Are you sensitive? What about your pussy lips? Are you getting turned on?”
“My nipples are sensitive, and my pussy too…” she remained silent for a moment, as if considering how to continue. I only watched. And finally, she continued “… And yes, I think I am getting a bit turned on.” Her face turned red in shame.
“Tell me what you are doing now. I want to hear you talking to me!”
After another moment of silence, she started “My hand is stroking my breast now…”
“What do you feel?” I asked once more.
“I feel… It tickles a bit… it… it feels as if I’m getting warmer inside my body.”
I nodded. “And the other breast?”
Her hand moved to the other breast. While she used the other hand to pull the bra down, she let her free index finger circle the areola.
“What do you feel? Give me some details!”
“It is, … it is a bit irregular; very sensitive…”
“Go on! What do you do and what do you feel!”
“It is hard and, … I am now stroking the nipple and it tickles, … I am feeling… I am…”
I nodded an encouragement.
“I am now squeezing my breast with the other hand, … and… I am pulling my nipple, … and my other hand is going to the other breast…”
“Can you move one hand between your legs again?”
Now she complied more quickly.
“And keep talking about what you do!”
“My hand is stroking my thigh, and the other my breast, and…”
I wanted to hear more details, so I instructed “My fingertips are stroking my thigh, and it feels…”
Anita took over “My fingertips are stroking my thigh, and I feel my skin – it is soft. My fingers feel soft and I am feeling… My other hand is squeezing my breast… And the other, … And my nipple, …”
Slowly, her body seemed to take over control, and Anita’s movements started to become more and more guided by her arousal. Her breathing became deeper, her eyes unfocussed.
The lower hand started moving over her pussy; squeezing her lips between the fingers, pulling them. Her hips started moving in concert with her hand. In the meantime, the other hand squeezed the nipples; pulling them, rubbing them…
I remained silent now, not willing to disturb the built-up tension, and watched hypnotized how Anita turned deeper and deeper inside herself.
The one hand moved from breasts to belly, her hips and thighs, and back again – rubbing and stroking – while the other hand stroke her pussy, harder and faster. She started opening and closing her legs; her head turning from side to side; her eyes closed for longer and longer times; while the breath became more and more ragged. Her hips started to buckle.
I watched, fascinated, how this erotic spectacle took place in front of me. It turned me on – big time. It was so totally different from watching TV or the internet – the connection with Anita; taking pleasure in her pleasure. But also the exhibitionism – watching nearby, being the initiator but not part of it; all of this added to the thrill…
I was surprised by the roughness of her fingers, assaulting both her breasts and her pussy, and realized there was no need for me to be as gentle as I intended to be.
Her body strained; the legs stretched as far as the sofa allowed, her hips were pushed in the air, while the fingers on her pussy rubbed it frantically. Then, for a moment, she froze, and fell back on the sofa – a deep sigh escaping her lips.
For a short while, Anita lied down on the sofa, catching up her breath, eyes closed – five, six seconds – then her eyes opened, and her body shriveled a bit, one arm covering her pussy, while the other pulled her bra in place.
“Can I put on my jeans again?” she asked, embarrassment kicking in.
I shook my head. “I want to see you coming once more, and this time I want you to look at me.”
Anita’s face turned pale. “I can’t!” she whimpered, turning her face away from me.
“Of course you can” I replied. “You can easily come three, four times after each other.” as if I was the expert…
Anita remained impassive; avoiding to look at me.
“What if I would come and sit with you on the sofa, and if I would hold you tight; kiss your neck?” I asked. “And what if I would start stroking your breasts?”
I could see Anita thinking about my words.
“Would you let me touch you at this moment?” I asked, and Anita turned her head to me. She nodded.
“What would you let me do?” I asked. “What would you want me to do?”