A Stopover

"I know what this picture needs... one... last... touch."

I whine at his choice of words: It's far too soon to think about last touches! I've had nowhere near my fill of him yet.

How clever of him. He'd made me think he was just noticing some missing detail, but it was part of his plan all along. The next item he gets from his bag of tricks is a reasonably sized plug with a shiny chrome finish and plush tail attached. It's fox-red but could just as easily be a puppy's. I've seen them online and thought I'd like to have one. Now I did.

"Don't worry--this has never been in anyone else. You're my first sub who was this much of a puppy girl, did you know that?" he asks. I shake my head--this is an additional surprise.

Jason dips a fingertip into my pussy and makes a show of smearing the tapered end of the butt plug with my natural lube, then presses it steadily into its proper place. My instinct to resist the intrusion is met with a dominant growl--he has a canine side, too, it seems, but he's alpha and maybe more exotic than a dog.

It's in and I remember that such toys aren't merely to show submission. They provide another little something more for the wearer, something outside of the everyday overstimulation endured by a slut like me. It feels nice. I like that he thought of me when he chose it. "Rrff!" I bark through the gag.

"You'll keep that in until you go to bed tonight. It's the last thing you'll take off before you go to sleep naked, puppy."

I smile with my eyes, loving the sound of being left with more instructions, that this goes on in some way, beyond this dreamlike room.

"I know what it is--I did just put it there--but the effect is kind of spooky. That tail looks almost... natural. Will you allow me to take a photo? I know you said photos of our session would make you uneasy, so I won't if you shake your head 'no.'"

I take a beat, look up as I'm thinking...

"Your face will not be in the picture."

In that case, I'm fine with it and Jason takes the photo on his phone, then shows me as I lie there. I don't even recognize myself and I love that. A little saliva escapes the corner of my mouth as I smile.

Jason smiles that he got his way, that slowly, limits I'd established are being stretched. This is not lost on me. It rarely happens, but it doesn't surprise it would with him. This Dom has an ability that's... spooky, to use his word.

The next item he gets is a condom. My whole body responds to the sight; my back arches in anticipation, an undulation that goes through me from the toes above my head down to the other foot that extends just over the side of the bed.

Jason is gracefully athletic, built just like a basketball player. I love the way his shoulders and upper arms look on either side of me as he lowers down to bite my neck. He sinks his teeth and cock in at the same time and both hard parts of him bring pleasure and pain. They bring pain that's part of the pleasure. It's been a while since I went all the way with anyone I met for BDSM and we're a tight fit. A few long, slow strokes, and then we're the perfect fit.

Jason moans and the sound makes goosebumps break out all along my bound arms, around my tits and my nipples tighten as if he'd pinched them. It's such a sensual sound, it's like he speaks for both of us, saying abstractly just how good I feel with him inside of me.

He fucks like we're dancing slow. His body is powerful, but he uses its strength to destroy me with precision, not to pummel me. He gradually, imperceptibly increases the tempo until we're both breathless and a cloud of humidity and pheromones envelopes us. Then he removes the sodden gag so I can breathe freely through our exertion. So now I have to bite back my screams. He feels so good gliding through me I wish I could scream for god at the top of my lungs, but I'm not that girl in the hotel.

He doesn't talk but he's intimate with me by keeping his face close to gasp and sigh in my ear, to lick the sweat from my hairline or shock me with more sharp bites. When I can feel his orgasm start to build inside me, the first signs of mine shuddering around him, he starts to suck my neck. It's going to leave an obvious mark and I don't mind at all.

Jason's rougher now; he strikes my cervix, but I'm feeling no pain, just a cocktail of oxytocin, serotonin, all the chemistry of euphoria swamping my brain. Yes, I see fireworks on the backs of my eyelids when I come; they burst in a sequence of brilliant colors and I'm not ashamed to admit that a fuck could please me that much.

I'm old enough not to mistake that for love. But this man is very good. I'll leave it at that.

When Jason comes, he pushes himself up by pinning me down into the mattress with his large hand right at my collarbones, just low enough not to crush my throat. He looks down with his lips parted and eyes narrowed. His hair is stuck to his forehead. He looks just perfect for the picture I take of him using only my mind. The condom doesn't even detract from my experience of his pleasure; somehow, I can feel his orgasm completely.

* * * * *

We stayed until very late but didn't spend the whole night there together. Unlikely as it seems to me, I remember drifting off to sleep for a while, then we talked. The conversation was neither deep nor shallow; the words just rose and fell like breathing, floated in space, then dissipated. It was comfortable but vaguely unfulfilling, as if it was missing a piece or that something was continuously approached and left unsaid.

Jason began to dress, which I watched contentedly from where I lounged. I appreciated that he sounded sincere when he offered to take me for something to eat at one of the all-night coffee shops. Still, I refused. My stomach was empty and letting us know about it, but it was simply time for us to part ways for a while. I felt a restlessness that wasn't his or mine. It was just there like the scent of fresh linens soaked in sex.

When we shut the door behind us, I felt too excellent to hope to see him again. I could barely feel my new tail as I walked beside him down the hall.