tagBDSMA Perfect Fit Pt. 13

A Perfect Fit Pt. 13


(All characters are over 18 years of age.)

Mark's gone. He left for work, leaving a note with only a hand-drawn red heart and "Take good care of him, Jenni. I'll be home ASAP."

She goes to the kitchen to make coffee and a big bowl of pancake batter because that will make everything better, right?

Freek's not too broken up not to respond to the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes frying over the hotplate. He joins her with puffy eyes and spiky hair.

"Do you like big ones or little ones? I can do shapes, too. I made a ton, so you have to have some," she bosses him.

"Yes, Savina," he says, out of habit. "I mean, thanks, Jenni."

She hands him a mug with extra sugar.

"I like your coffee better than Mark's."

"I do everything to excess. This would be too strong for him," she laughs nervously.



"Make me shapes, please."

She serves him a Mickey Mouse and a cloud.

"Why do you guys spoil me so much?"

"We love you. Are you going to tell me what happened? You don't have to, but, the way I grew up... I want to know what's going on with the grown-ups."

"Savina broke up with me last night."

Jenni transfers a crooked heart onto his plate as he eats.

"I'm sorry."

Freek chuckles. "You are the worst card player. Tell me what you think."

She stands at the counter, making some more shapes for herself and him, too. "You might not be really broken up."

"That's diplomatic. What are you really thinking?"

"That it's good you aren't with her. I'm sorry that it's painful, I am, but she's not right for you. Please don't tell Mark I said that!"

"Why not?"

"Because he would never say something that rude. I like her, but not for you. Don't you like maple syrup?"

"Oh, right."

"Say when."


"It's just that... I've really felt how loving you are," she says, turning red. "You could have a Dom...inant person who's like that with you, too."

"Mark said she doesn't have feelings."

"That doesn't sound like him."

"I think he was upset."

"He's emotional. Believe it or not, I keep him calm, too. I'm not just a big baby."

"Jenni, that's plain to see."

She refills his coffee. They eat and cradle their warm cups in silence. "Want to hang out with me today? I mean, only if you want to. I know you're always working."

"And I know you're always procrastinating. But yes. Look."

Freek offers his hands to examine. She knows these hands intimately by now, but never took a good look in the light of day. Of course, they are covered in scars.

"See that one? I almost took my whole thumb off. So yes, after almost no sleep and a break-up, I'm taking the day off."

Jenni's never been in his workspace and gets him talking about his profession. She wants to take his mind off things, but also she's interested enough to ask for a visit downstairs. Then they both realize: His studio is on the same floor as Savina's.

"We have an expression for this in my language," he mutters.

"Don't shit where you eat?"

"Something like that. How did you know?"

"I think it's universal, my friend."

After breakfast, Jenni shows him the work she's been doing at the venerable old table he procured for her. She spreads out the sheets of paper on the large tilted surface. They are all of Mark. Mark with white wings, Mark with black wings. Alternate universe fashion model-esque images of him dressed to kill. Stills from films that don't exist with him on rooftops, brooding. Mark as a young boy petting a Siberian tiger, the pale blue wash of their eyes illuminating the similar lines of their profiles. And then some that clearly are not fantasy at all: He posed nude for some, hands tied to their headboard in a gorgeous pose of sensual abandon, juicy arm contours on display and those silky armpits that make her crazy...

At first glance, one might think she loves him so much she flattered his looks. At the second, one can see she's just very skilled and it's a true-to-life rendering of his unique features. She's even captured the beatific curve to his lips and the contrasting lust in his eyes. It's his look when he's completely at peace and it only happens with his baby girl.

"I guess this must look kind of obsessive."

"No. If I could draw people, I'd draw him all the time."

Jenni watches him take in all her adolescent daydreams starring their mutual object of desire. "Have you fallen in love with him?" she asks as naturally as possible.

He considers. "I don't think so. I don't think that's possible for me because he's a man. But I know I've never felt like this. Maybe the answer is a little and not at all, at the same time. It's confusing. I just know the thought of losing him - and you - is worse than getting dumped by Savina."

"You won't. We'll all be careful as we navigate this, okay?"

Jenni hugs him close. She means it in a comforting, reassuring way, but their bodies remember what they'd shared just hours ago. Oh. Oh, shit. That tension is undeniable and ignoring it isn't compatible with honestly "navigating."

"Unf. Now, this... this is dangerous," Freek says.

"It's not that dangerous. It's not me you really want."

"I don't know about that. I think this loft is enchanted. I didn't use to be like this."

"Like what?" she asks, already feeling the answer in his body.

"Sexual. Like I can be sexual and not just in the dark with a girlfriend. It's like the most private side is closer to the surface... like it feels it shouldn't be hidden. It scares me I'll become unfit for society."

Jenni chuckles. "I didn't realize how tightly wound you keep yourself, Freek."

"I never did, either. It was just normal. I never minded being reserved... I never felt I was missing out."

"But you like that you fucked us for the audience."

Freek's body jerks in her embrace. "Fuck! I forgot about that part!"

She sighs. "Oh, honey. I think you must be in love with my Daddy. I wish I could be inside him like that..."

"He said the same about you, little one," her friend says in a decidedly suggestive tone. Well, then. A rematch is imminent.

"He told me to take good care of you," she offers.

"Hmmf." He strokes her hair. "Not sure this is what he had in mind."

Jenni smiles at the way he called it "this." They are on the same page. "I can call him. I'll ask if we're allowed to play while he's at work. We're both trustworthy."

Because they are both his, in a way, they both understand. Better safe than sorry. Jenni doesn't bother him at work, but does flirt with him in a way that doesn't require a reply at least once a day, just so he knows he's on her mind. Mark's made it clear he keeps his phone on him and never to hesitate if she needs him. He's the unofficial head of maintenance at the museum and has a lot of freedom.

Mark sounds alarmed to hear from her.

"Babe! What's happened?"

"Nothing, Daddy. We're okay. Are you?"

"Tired, walkin' into walls, but I'm all right. I might not be the stud you're used to tonight, darlin'," he laughs dryly.

"Um, speaking of that. Freek and I were wondering... are we allowed to play around while you're not here? We won't if you don't like it, promise."

Mark whistles through his teeth. "My, my, " he drawls in a lower tone. "Yeah, that's okay with me. Make him feel better, baby girl. No penetration sex, though. That's mine. And keep your panties on; your cunny's too hard to resist, girl."

"Are you sure this doesn't bother you?"

"Should it? You two gonna be sayin' mean things behind my back?"


"Then, no. I'd put my foot down if it wasn't okay. It's gonna make this a long day for me, though, imagining you at home bein' slutty without me."

"I miss you. I think we both do, Daddy."

"Miss ya more. Listen, I gotta go. Have fun. And kiss him for me," he says with a laugh in his soft voice.

"I can do that. On the lips?"

"Uh-huh. Do it right. See you soon, baby."

"I love you!"

"And I love you. Bye." He sighs the last syllable in a way that melts her like butter.

Jenni looks out at the drizzle; the damp chill has invaded the loft and the pancake breakfast was proving to be the perfect start to a decadent and unproductive day. "I'm cold! Want to come back to bed with me?" she asks, making it sound more for her than for her melancholy friend.

"I take it Mark has no problem with this?" he checks as they undress down to their underwear.

"That's right. He said no penetration sex and my panties stay on. He said to give you a kiss from him."

Freek laughs softly as they climb into the coziness. Jenni makes sure to take the pillow that smells like Mark's unwashed hair. "How does one give a kiss from someone else?"

"I'll just have to try my best." She takes a deep breath and decides to channel her Dom. She makes her doll-like lips broader and firmer and plants them assertively on Freek's. She choreographs her kiss like one of Daddy's: Expressive, reassuring, and, she hopes, cleverly arousing. He's left breathless and startled. They've never kissed before. "How was that?"

He doesn't answer with words, pulling her mouth to his for more and more. He's a needy sub, just like her. She hopes this is helping him. It's going to end up torturing her; Daddy never denies her sex unless she's being bad and making him late for work.

"Can I massage your breasts?" Freek asks politely.

"Sure, but I'm supposed to be taking care of you, sweetie, not the other way around."

He chuckles. "When men ask for that, it's usually not meant as a favor, little one," he kids.

"Oh. Right. Yes, I like that a lot." This, he already knows, she remembers as she unhooks her cotton bra. The black triangles aren't really doing much for her changing figure anyway. Her friend rubs his hands together the way the nicer doctors do when they know they'll feel ice cold. He admires her for a long moment then pulls the duvet up and lays beside her under the heavy covers. Rain thwacks softly against the window above their heads.

His touch is excitingly selfish. Sure, it's a massage as promised, gentle and relaxing, but he's also playing with the impossibly soft curves for his own tactile pleasure. Her nipples stand up but are still soft like gummy candies. Even as he tickles them and tugs just right, they don't get pebbly. Maybe that only happened with Mark, who can do that to her with a look.

Jenni begins to arch her back and squirm. It's a little strange to make love with someone for whom she's not a little girl, to whom she doesn't belong. Still, her time with Mark has made her wildly responsive and her needs are beyond what she ever imagined her frail, depressed body was capable of doing to her. She moans; Freek kisses her deeply and gets closer so she can feel him hard against her thigh. Even though she's not his sub, she still revels in the feel of a large male body trapping her. He probably doesn't even mean to be doing it, and she likes his naturalness, too.

"You're curvier than you look," he remarks appreciatively as he helps himself to a bigger handful of flesh.

"I've put on some since you first saw me," she explains. "I hope the trend continues... I think it would be sexy to have big tits."

"You have beautiful tits. You could see what they look like a couple sizes bigger, if you want to try it. I know a place."

"What do you mean? What place?" she asks, looking up curiously into his eyes.

"Have you been to IDEAL? Savina took me there. There's a woman who does saline infusion. It's quite safe, very clean. I had it done."

"You had a temporary boob job?" Because why should anything surprise her at this point?

"No, not that. Savina had my balls done."

Jenni considers this and comes up with nothing. It didn't sound terribly aesthetically pleasing. "Why?"

"To humiliate me, of course. Walking around like that, gravity doesn't let you forget you are someone's property. And I was semi-hard for 24 hours and not allowed to take care of it. Finally, she came over and gave me a handjob, then left without a word." He sounds more mystified by his ex's behavior than bitter, and squirms against her at the memory of being inflated and denied.

"Mark would never treat you that cold," Jenni says, making her thought process fairly obvious. She was adjusting to the idea, slowly, that this man in her bed might be becoming more than a very good friend. She reaches for his cock and starts to stroke him. He's hot and sticky and she wants him inside her with an intensity that makes her scared she's about to fail her Daddy.

"I really wish we could fuck. You've got me so hot," she whines.

He slides his hand over her tight, sodden panties. "I want that, too, but I can control myself," he says unconvincingly. "Even though I have feelings for your man, your body is perfect to me." He starts to rub her through the wet cotton. It's making it so much worse. "Maybe I can get on top of you and just..."

Jenni's already pulling him onto her.

Her hands twitch with the impulse to pull down her underwear. She's too wet and open not to suck him inside like a vortex of mindless desire.

"Shit, you feel good even like this," he says when he's aligned perfectly between her legs.

"Oh my god. We better make this quick. Your body is wonderful." She runs her hands all over the muscles in his back, amazed that something created for utilitarian purposes could be so sensual in another context. He rests on his elbows, still holding her breasts, and moves his hips to end their suffering. She catches him shaking his head in disbelief.

"What? Guess I am kind of funny when I'm like this..."

"No! It's not funny. Just... your touch is the kindest I've ever felt. Even when you're a horny little monster."

Jenni slaps his ass. "Playing with you was obviously a mistake. You're actually really sexy."

"Actually? I hope that sounds better to a native speaker."

She raises her hand to smack him again but returns it lightly for more of that kindest touch he deserves. "I meant, I just thought it would be easy to obey Mark's instructions," she pants.

Freek responds with a careful roll his pelvis right against the crest of her mound where her clit strains for relief. "Nghh!"


"Oh, yeah, please, Daddy!"

"There ya go, baby girl," he answers in an impression of Mark's accent that's surprisingly accurate. He's good to his word and doesn't relent until Jenni comes laughing and obscenely moaning all at once. It's far too dangerous for him to stay as he is, too, with her legs flung wide open for him and that continuous, foreign touch exploring his muscles with admiration.

"We can't... do anything... we'll both regret. I love him, too..."

She pulls at him to kiss her and she gives him the hottest and most affectionate tongue she can imagine. She's imagining Mark, how he'd want his friend to feel: Loved and lusted after. It isn't hard to do. Freek is a lover she'd never have kicked out of bed before Mark. 'When it rains, it pours,' she thinks. He comes hard and fast. The power in his sweet spasms hints he could really give her the kind of rough night she used to like. That is, if he were dominant and her Daddy hadn't made her so sensitive with his love.

Freek finishes their orgasmic kiss with a polite peck as if to say goodbye and rolls off of her. They lie side by side, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. They don't say it, but are incredibly grateful there is nothing they can't tell Mark when he gets home.

"So, do you want to do out and play? Staying here is probably not the best idea."

It's still coming down, but Jenni agrees. There were lots of things to do in the city on a weekday for perverts fucking off work. They dress. Jenni wears her yellow raincoat and matching rubber boots. Freek jokes that rubber wear is perfect for where they are going. She looks doubtful about this. "It's my treat. Let me make you feel good, too."

* * * * *

Downstairs, Savina logs into the Mark and Jenni site. She looks for last night's performance because she's second-guessing her decision. It's not up, had only been a live show. Nothing new to be seen. No way to re-examine what's been playing in her head.

Freek's not answering his phone or the door at his studio. She almost drives out to his house, but has a hunch as to where he might be. Better check upstairs first. Outside the door to Mark's loft, she stands silently, listening. Well, that's odd: Sex sounds and no broadcast. Jenni's voice is easy to recognize by now. It's the male that's harder to place.

It sounds almost like her lover. Why would that be him without Mark's voice, too? Maybe she was imagining it; she hadn't got any sleep last night.

No, that was Freek, but in a way that she hadn't yet heard. It's with a degree of horror she realizes: That's the sound of real happiness, not just sexual release. The subsequent mingled laughter makes clear: Her affectionate, sweet boy loves affection. She continues to listen, stunned, until the voices get closer and she hears the jingle of keys to indicate they are going out. There is no time to wait for the old elevator, so she ducks into an empty loft that's undergoing renovations.

She listens to her lover and the girl pass by. They laugh and talk excitedly about some surprise for Mark. It's obvious they aren't having an affair: Freek would never do such a thing and the girl is too idiotically besotted with "Daddy" to dream of it. No, it's plain to her that Freek is now part of their family in some fucked up way.

Savina is furious, but mostly with herself. She thinks she should not have thrown him away like she did. More than that, though, she handled this one terribly by always withholding, acting cold, doling out the minimum pleasure. She treated him mean to keep him keen, as they say.

She's also mad at him for never questioning it, never telling her what would really make him happy. Was he even a real sub at all? Perhaps he had misrepresented himself all along. If he even cared, he might answer his Domme's calls.

Savina slides down the drywall to get dust all over her stylish black dress. A rat runs across the old floorboards and pauses. "Maybe I don't have feelings... not for real," she whispers aloud because she does feel like crying but nothing happens.

* * * * *

Unbeknownst to Savina, Freek and Jenni have myriad feelings about her, too, though it sounded like they had not a care in the world while she'd spied. They don't talk about it on the train ride to the up-and-coming neighborhood of their destination. Instead, they make polite get-to-know-you conversation as one would when suddenly alone with a partner's best friend. Jenni asks deliberately lame questions about his homeland to make him crack up. (Does everyone smoke weed? What's up with wooden shoes? Is it really controlled by terrorists?) It's all in the service of taking good care of his heart, as Daddy told her to do. The man is so sweet, it's no chore. They arrive. Jenni regrets wearing the fun clothes she enjoys and suddenly wishes she'd look more like Savina on his arm.

IDEAL stands for "Institute for Deviant Education, Arts, and Love." It's kind of a BDSM-positive organization attached to a high-end sex shop. It's housed in a landmark three-story building with a beautiful facade of mythological themes. Both Freek and Jenni freeze in their tracks to admire the craftsmanship. "Amazing," she remarks, though she's seen it before. He's been here, too, obviously, but still stops to take in the beauty. "Mark would love this," he replies. Jenni lets that hang. Was this crush of his because he doesn't want to deal with getting dumped, or was he taking that so well because he just fucked the love of his life last night?

They go in and stop in the foyer to look over the college-style notice board that lists all the classes they have to offer, as well as silly stuff people sneak on like naked house cleaners and, of course, guitar lessons.

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