Turning Point

I vaguely recall feeling the mattress move. Rob had sat down beside me. I could feel his stare, but I no longer cared. I had slipped into a place where dignity no longer existed.

His fingers fumbled around the back of my neck until the pressure on my mouth ceased, and the scarf slithered away from my face. The ragged sound of my panting filled the silence.

"Open your eyes and look at me, Cindy."

I complied. He was relaxed, with a pleased expression on his face. I could feel his approval, and I took pride in it.

"God, you're so fucking gorgeous." The back of his hand caressed my cheek and I pressed my face into his touch.

He'd never said those words to me. Not once; not even close. I was overcome with a sense of love for him, and a feeling of belonging that I'd never felt before. My selfish wish to be brought to climax waned in favor of wanting to please him. I turned my face and kissed his hand before I whispered, "Thank you."

It was completely absurd, I know. To be thanking him after what he'd done, seemed like the most outrageous thing to do, but it was how I truly felt. He'd done something to me, changed me, given me some gift I couldn't name. And I loved him for it. More than I'd ever loved him before.

He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine, delivering a soft, loving kiss. It was familiar. The sort of kiss I'd become accustomed to over the previous year from my loving, kind, gentle boyfriend. He placed his cheek on mine and whispered in my ear.

"I'm not finished with you, yet. I removed your gag so I can fuck your mouth. If you behave yourself, and if you're very good, I'll make you come afterward. Would you like that, Cyn?"

I nodded.

"Good girl."

Rob slid off the bed and removed his jeans. He then climbed back up and straddled my torso. He paused to fondle my breasts for a few seconds and then positioned himself over my face on his hands and knees. He gripped my chin, forcing my mouth open, and then slid inside.

I struggled to free my hands. I wasn't trying to get away; I just wanted to protect myself from gagging.

Rob steadied my head by gripping my neck with one hand. He maintained a rhythm of shallow, fast strokes until the panic in me subsided, and I gained the confidence I needed to comply with his wishes.

Gradually, he drove deeper and deeper, filling my throat completely with his engorged shaft. I learned to relax and accept the intrusion. I didn't bother worrying about the saliva running down my chin or the obscene slurping noises I was making with every stroke. I doubt he noticed through all his grunting and panting. He wanted a warm wet hole to fuck, and that's what he got.

The strange thing was, I didn't mind it so much. I'm not sure if it was the vibrator still nested inside me that was affecting my mood, or the intoxicating effect of being taken. Either way, I was definitely into it.

Rob took a couple of quick shallow strokes and then dug his fingers into my neck as he shoved his pulsing rod deep into my mouth. The hot liquid slid straight down the back of my throat. It didn't feel like much, but it was hard to tell since none of it actually landed in my mouth or on my tongue. He held onto my face until his climax had completely subsided. Then he pulled away and collapsed onto the bed next to me.

My throat was sore, and the corners of my mouth felt like they'd been, well, fucked, I guess. I felt used. But I also felt an odd sense of satisfaction, for lack of a better word. Despite the incessant throbbing in my channel as a result of the vibrating bullet inside me, I felt a bit spent.

Rob shifted next to me. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed he'd picked up the knife and was folding the blade safely into the body. He tossed the knife onto the pillow behind him and then smoothed his hair out of his eyes as he took a deep breath.

He looked different to me. I noticed the muscles along the sides of his neck flex as he turned his head to check the time. He never removed his tee shirt. The sleeves clung tightly to his biceps and chest, flowing loose around his abdomen. He's so fit. So fucking muscular. I remembered it was what attracted me in the first place. He worked construction; always different jobs, different tasks, but most of them requiring upper body strength. Somewhere along the line, I'd stopped looking at him like that. I'd stopped seeing his masculinity.

I suppose I could blame it on any number of things. The fact that I brought home more money than he did, that I went farther in school or that I could think quicker on my feet than he could. But all of those were just excuses for me to feel superior to him. He was absolutely right. At some point, I stopped respecting him. Even worse than that, I stopped seeing him as a man, altogether. He'd become nothing more than a roommate. And I resented him for it. Even though it was mostly my doing, I held him responsible for not stepping up and being the man I felt I deserved. Until now.

He had undeniably taken control over me in the most profound way. By exposing my core the way he did, he captivated my very soul, it seemed.

I felt a sudden release of pressure around my wrists. He removed the restraints and carelessly tossed the plastic tie rings toward the knife. I was free to move my arms. I opened my hands but kept them pressed firmly beneath my lower back as if they were still restrained. I didn't want to move them. I wanted to prove to Rob that I'd given in. I wanted him to know that I accepted his leadership.

I remained quiet, lying there on my back. A smile grew slowly across Rob's face as he looked down at me.

"I owe you something."

I didn't acknowledge that I knew what he meant. He'd promised me an orgasm. I knew it. And I wanted it. Badly. But, I wanted it to be on his terms, not mine. I wanted him to decide to award it to me, rather than force the issue like I'd always done in the past.

"I'm a little surprised you haven't demanded it. You sure look like you need to come."

I nodded weakly but said nothing. Instead, I lay perfectly still, waiting for him to make a move, or instruct me on what he wanted me to do.

"Are you happy, Cyn? With us...with me?"

Tears welled up in my eyes. I hadn't been happy at all. But my problem wasn't him. It was me.

I blinked hard. Tears streamed down the sides of my face. I bit my lip and nodded my head. In that moment, I was the happiest I'd been in my life.

Rob brushed away my tears and caressed my hot cheeks for a few seconds. He slid off the bed and stood between my splayed thighs. He was in perfect position to penetrate me, and heaven knows I wanted it, but he wouldn't be physically ready to do that for some time. He'd just come off of two in a row; three would be too much to hope for.

He reached down and retrieved the tiny vibrator that had been keeping me on edge. He held it up for me to see. It was exactly what I'd guessed, a bullet-shaped vibrator. By pressing the end of it, he increased the intensity another notch. A wicked grin curled his lips as he pressed the device firmly to my swollen clit.

I screamed out in absolute pleasure. Every nerve ending in my body seemed to come alive at once to send jolts of energy to one central location, my clitoris. It felt like it exploded. My hips launched off the mattress and held there in those precious moments of consummate tension before collapsing back to the bed. It was intense.

He mercifully removed the device when I came down. It would have been painful if he hadn't.

I realized only after several minutes of catching my breath, that my hands were still firmly planted underneath me. I did it. I'd somehow managed to stay in position.

He patted me on the leg, "Go get cleaned up. Then we'll talk."

I climbed up off the bed and walked toward the restroom. When I turned around for one last look before stepping through the doorway, he was still standing next to the bed watching me.

A huge smile grew on my face.

***