Days Off with Lindsay - Megan Pt. 03

Reuben wasn't there, but he had given everyone unique, thoughtful gifts. All small, but all personal. I was impressed at the effort he'd been putting in lately, especially considering that he was only here about once a month. He had started doing more regular teaching sessions and mentoring, hoping to keep the club growing and avoid any more situations like the one with Peter Woodrow. Though I still didn't know the details, I'd gained from Lindsay that he had ignored a girl's safeword several times.

My gift from him had been a gift card to a local bookstore. It was for a hefty amount and I smiled widely. Becca gave me a gift card to a lingerie store nearby, as I'd told her how Sir continued to steal my panties. Julia had given me a set of leather cuffs that matched my collar. I thanked her profusely, asking her to let me give her a little bit of money for them, because those things probably cost a fortune, but she refused. I felt bad because my gift to her had just been a pair of cat earrings, but she seemed to love them.

There was also a small, gold box, the kind you put gift cards in, addressed to me with no "from." I knew it was from him. I opened it quietly, not drawing attention to myself, and keeping my eyes down.

Inside was a small card. It had an address, and a date and time. Thursday, 10pm. Knock twice.

Oh my god this is his address, I realized. I was holding so much more than that in my hand. It was trust. All trust. I could have gone by any time and figured out who he was, watching from a distance to solve my mystery. But he knew I wouldn't, because he told me not to. In that moment, I felt so happy, so at peace, that I let out a little laugh, not knowing what else to do with the emotion.

"Thank you, Sir," I said quietly, knowing he was either watching, or listening. I shut my eyes for a moment, put the card back in the box, and put it in my purse.

There were a few moments that night when I'd felt his hand gently on the small of my back when I least expected it, like he was walking by and giving me a silent gift of affection. This is tonight's game, I realized.

I did keep checking my phone for a text though, wondering if I would be given an instruction.

It came late, past midnight. The party had died down and the playrooms were full, and there were just a few people milling around and sitting on the couches. Abigail and Jenna were having another heated session on one of the couches, and I was smiling and laughing quietly with Julia as I watched Jenna painfully pull one orgasm after another out of poor Abigail. We had a bet going on how many she'd have before she fell into nothingness. I felt my phone buzz and I checked my phone, to see a text from Sir.

Sir: Did you see the mistletoe under the archway?

Megan: Yes sir.

Sir: Go wait for me. Close your eyes. Don't open them.

I looked at Julia. "Don't cheat while I'm gone." Then I stood up and quietly made my way to the beautiful archway near the door of the lounge, covered in wintergreen and holly berries, with a bundle of mistletoe underneath.

I stood under, and closed my eyes. I waited, breathing slowly but anxious. He hadn't been quite this brazen except the day he'd put my collar on me. It was at least four songs playing over the radio before I sensed him. He stood toe to toe with me and I smiled, waiting, lifting my chin just a little.

I don't know what I expected. Maybe the soft, tender touches from him I was used to receiving? The way he usually trailed his fingers delicately against my skin and kissed me with light, feathery kisses? No, that is not even close to what I got.

He put a hand on my neck, sliding it up into my hair and grabbing roughly. I gasped and my eyes almost popped open but I caught myself, squinting shut as hard as I could. He crushed his lips into mine, kissing me hard, passionately, roughly, biting my lip and shoving his tongue in when I gasped. I heard him growl and his other hand snaked around my waist, pulling me against him tightly, his fingernails digging into my skin.

Fuck. The shock and the passion, and the way he was kissing me left me breathless and aching in a way I hadn't felt in so long. I wanted him to slam me against the wall, tear my dress to pieces and fuck me untilI couldn't walk. Hot waves of desire ripped through my body, settling between my legs as my stomach clenched, and I felt my pussy twitch, begging for attention. His hand in my hair pulled sharply, jerking my head up to expose my neck, and he roughly kissed my chin, and my neck, and my collar bone, his teeth grazing my skin and leaving little scratches and bites along my skin.

I whimpered. "Oh fuck. Please sir."

"Please what." his voice was thick and gruff and my pussy clenched again. My hips squirmed involuntarily.

"I want you. So bad."

"I want you too, little toy." And he held my face as he attacked my mouth again, kissing me until I was gasping for air. I felt one of his hands move down my body and sneak under my dress, and he raked his nails up my leg as he found my wetness, pushing around my panties and shoving two fingers into me roughly. I gasped, squinting my eyes shut as hard as I could.

Roughly, hard, almost cruelly, he fucked me with his fingers, as hard and as fast as he could, his other hand still holding my hair so my face was up towards the ceiling. His face was pressed against my neck as I moaned, and he whispered, "Don't you dare cum. Not yet, pretty girl. Not until I can see your eyes light up."

I grunted and gritted my teeth, focusing hard on everything around me but my pussy. "No," I whispered, knowing I was close. I said it out loud, hoping to make it true. "No. Fuck. Sir please, no. I can't. Fuck!" More than anything, I wanted to hold off for him. But more than anything I wanted to cum all over his hand.

It was either perfect timing, or he knew what I felt like right before I came, because right as I was about to lose it and fall over the edge, he stopped, pulling his fingers out of me, and slapped me across the face, the pain just jarring enough to pull me back but leave me aching for relief. I kept my eyes squinted shut, but leaned my face into his shirt. He smelled like soap, and sweat, and booze, and my cum.

"Thank you, Sir."

He held me tightly, petting my hair, and then tilted my face up and kissed my forehead, and peppered the side of my face with little tender kisses where he'd hit me.

"Merry Christmas, pretty girl. I'll see you on Thursday." Another quick kiss on my lips and he was gone. I swayed a little, and caught myself on the wall behind me, opening my eyes for just a moment to look at my feet and find my equilibrium. I stayed there for a moment, breathing hard and blinking, then I straightened, took a deep breath, adjusted my underwear, and slowly made my way back to my friends on the couch.

Julia was grinning ear to ear, and had given up counting Abigails' orgasms to watch me get fingerfucked in the corner. "I lost count around eleven," she said. "You win."

"I think we're at fifteen, and still going strong," Jenna said from the corner. Abigail was twitching, not quite floating yet.

"Poor girl," Julia laughed.

"Are you kidding me? I'd take that kind of torture over denial any day of the week. I haven't had an orgasm in almost six months, and that one was ruined."

"I'm sure he'll let you cum eventually."

I shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. It doesn't matter, really. That's not the point, is it?"

My phone buzzed and I checked my texts.

Sir: You're cumming on Thursday. Just so you know.

My jaw dropped open. "Oh shit." I showed Julia the text and her eyes got wide and she grinned.

"See, told ya!"

I couldn't answer, I just sat in wet, aching anticipation, and watched jealously as Abigail slowly descended into subspace.

Chapter 10

Megan

I arrived at Sir's apartment on Thursday, just a few minutes before 10pm, patiently waiting for my phone to tell me the right time. When the numbers changed, I pulled my blindfold down over my eyes, put my phone in my pocket, and knocked twice loudly on the door.

A few moments passed, then a few more. Maybe a half a minute, or two or three? I listened to the sounds around me as I waited, the children running around downstairs, doors slamming, loud voices shouting-

And then the door unlocked and slowly opened. My breath caught in my throat and my stomach clenched in excitement. I could smell a delicate, floral scent coming from the apartment. His hand was on my shoulder, and then trailing down my arm and took my hand, and I relished the feeling of his rough fingers scraping against my skin and wrapping my small hand into his larger, stronger ones. I could feel the callouses on his hands catching on my skin.

He silently led me forwards, and navigated me through unfamiliar territory, and then the floral scent intensified. A door shut. We were in a room, probably a bedroom, and there were definitely candles lit.

Slowly, tenderly, he undressed me. I'd worn a sweater and a pair of jeans and some snow boots, as it had gotten horribly cold. He set me against the bed so I could sit, and he unlaced my boots, gently pulling my shoes off, and then my socks, massaging my feet just a little afterwards. Come on, I thought, yank them off and fuck me. I know you want to. But I didn't say it. That was the game.

He pulled my pants off, then let out a chuckle at my festive lacy panties that I'd worn just for him. He kissed my hips and my mound through my underwear, his finger gently tracing the anchor on my hip as he pulled them down too. Then he kissed his way up my body, lifting my shirt as he went, and unhooking my bra, letting it fall to the ground.

Then he took off my blindfold.

When I realized what he was doing, I gasped and squinted my eyes shut. "What a good girl," he whispered, and kissed me deeply. God the man could kiss. Firm enough to make me gasp, soft enough to leave me aching for that rough, hungry intensity that I craved.

He gently used his hands to coax me up onto the bed, and he set me the way he wanted me. On my back, legs spread just wide enough, hands above my head. He trailed a finger down from my chin, down my tummy, and right above my clit, and then pulled back. I sighed, fighting to keep my eyes closed.

"So here's what's gonna happen today, pretty girl." He said softly, just quiet enough to hear him. I heard the rustling of fabric but I couldn't place it. "I'm going to tease the hell out of you today. I'm going to let you cum but not until I say so." I grinned and nodded my head, embarrassed at how excited I was. My whole body was tingling in anticipation. He continued. "You're going to keep those pretty eyes closed, but you're going to open them when I say so. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir!" it came out way too excited. He was going to let me open my eyes? Would he let me see him? Probably not, but oh I wished I could.

More rustling. What was he doing? Then he climbed onto the bed with me and I felt his hands on my breasts, and a leg was thrown over me, and he was straddling me, and I could feel his skin on mine. Fuck, he'd taken his clothes off. He was naked on top of me. "Oh god," I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut. I can do this. Keep them shut. Fuck please keep them shut.

I gasped as his fingers on one hand spread me open, and with the other hand he started to finger me just the way I liked, delicately at first, sliding up and down the slit and pressing gently on that back edge of my folds. One of his fingers dove into me, and then started rubbing my clit, firmly, little circles sending waves of heat through my hips and breasts. I groaned and turned my head, trying desperately to keep my eyes shut.

I could open them, I thought. He's looking right at you.

God I missed my blindfold, I needed it back. I was going to cum and my eyes were going to open-

No fucking way. I was not letting this go. I was not going to be the one to end this game. "No," I sighed, and threw an arm over my eyes.

"You okay?"

"Yes please don't stop."

"Move your arm."

"I can't."

"I'll tie you up if you don't," he warned.

I whimpered and moved my arm off my face, and focused on breathing and keeping my eyes shut as he attacked my clit. I could feel his hot cock pressing against me, twitching slightly against my leg.

He moved off of me, sliding down a little, and brushed his lips against my hips, and then lower, and then his tongue glided against my clit.

"Oh fuck!" I yelled. I buried my head in the pillow beside me.

He laughed. Not a quiet little chuckle like he usually did, but a loud, bubbling laugh. He stopped teasing me for a minute while I gasped and gathered myself, still pressing my face into the pillow. It smelled sweet and musty and rich. And that laugh! Oh I was sure I'd heard it before. It bubbled up and exploded like the best ones did.

"Sir if you do that again," I whispered around my panting, "If you keep that up, I'm going to lose it. Please. I don't... I don't want to lose it."

"Are you telling me that you can't? That this is your limit?"

I breathed deeply, and thought hard, forcing myself to be honest. "I'm too sensitive. I... I don't want to ruin this."

"Okay, I'll stop torturing you." He sounded more excited than I expected. I thought he'd be disappointed.

"I'm sorry," I started. He clapped a hand over my mouth, and another over my eyes, leaning into me and pressing his face against my ear and neck.

"Don't you dare fucking apologize for being honest with me." He let go of my mouth, and with that hand, slapped me painfully on my thigh twice. I yelped. He bit my ear lobe and I gushed a little more. "Flip over."

I started to roll over on my stomach, but he caught me on my side, laying behind me and spooning me. I could feel him pressed against my ass, his cock dripping just a little, hot and throbbing against me. Fuck I wanted him inside me so bad. Would he let me? Was this it?

He squeezed my breasts and hips as he wrapped his arms around me, kissing and biting at my shoulder and back of my neck, and then rolled onto his back, pulling me on top of him, both of us facing up towards the ceiling. I could feel the tip of his cock against my pussy and oh fuck did I want it. My hips squirmed and gyrated, begging for more. He was breathing hard too, gasping and grunting in my ear. I felt him use one hand to hold me still as the other hand reached down between both our legs, rubbing his cock against my pussy.

There was no way this angle is going to work, I realized. He wasn't going to get it in. He was just going to torture me with feeling it outside and against the lips. I gasped as the head of his cock started massaging my clit, and his other hand went up around my throat, again not squeezing, just holding me, so I couldn't look around or move my head.

His face lifted up off the pillow and he groaned against the side of my neck. "Open your eyes, pretty girl."

It hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn't want to. I'd spent so much effort trying to keep them shut, now he wanted me to open them?

"I... but," I said.

"Open your eyes." He said it firmer, louder, almost shouting in my ear. My eyes flew open, the compulsion to obey overwriting everything.

Fucking hell. My brain went into overload as I took in everything around me at once. The warm barely tanned color of his skin, the light brown hair on his arms and legs, the dark room with the candles scattered around us, and the dresser across from the bed. He had a camera set up on the dresser, a bright red dot leering at me.

I gasped. He stopped rubbing his cock against my pussy and shoved his fingers in instead, viciously fucking me as hard as he could. He had a scar on his left arm, a large cut extending almost the entire way down his forearm. His right arm was across my chest, his hand on my neck, and he started squeezing just a little on the sides of my throat. The swirling intricate patterns of the black and blue ink filled my vision.

He chuckled into my ear, and then groaned, and then horsley whispered, "cum for me, Megan."

With so much relief, I stopped holding back, and relaxed. I exploded, hard, fire tearing through every inch of my body. My eyes and ears didn't register anything, I just felt the white-hot burning of that chemical rush through my arms, legs, face, my tummy, and my sex. Eventually it faded, and I could almost register my surroundings. I melted against him, gasping for air, realizing my eyes were still open and glued to his gorgeous arms around my body. "Oh. Oh. Oh." It was all I could say. He held onto me snugly, and rolled us over onto our sides.

We lay like that for what felt like hours, or days. He kept his face against my neck and shoulder, his breath hot on me.

When I could finally talk, I whispered, "Thank you, sir."

He smiled against me and then rolled over and stood up. "Close your eyes, pretty girl." I did so, almost in relief. His room was mostly dark and I couldn't see anything around me that let me in on anything about who he was. He found my blindfold and put it back on my eyes, and I sighed in relief. I heard him messing with the camera as well. He climbed back onto the bed, and rolled me over onto my back.

God I loved feeling his naked body pressed against mine while he explored my skin. I felt like I was glowing. I felt so peaceful, so serene, so relieved. The image of his hands and arms on my body was the best thing I'd ever seen, and I tried to memorize every detail.

"You're mine, Megan."

"Fuck. Sir. you're... fuck." You're killing me, I wanted to say. I want to know you, I want to see you. But I want to please you. I want to feel you laugh when I struggle. I want to hear you tell me you're proud of me because I gave you something I didn't think I could give.

"Hey. Hey, pretty girl, breathe. You're okay. You did it. God Megan you're amazing." His words brought me back and I realized I was crying.

"Oh," I laughed. "I'm good. I'm fine. I'm okay, I promise." I scrubbed at my eyes through the blindfold. He pulled it off, thumbing my tears away, and leaning over and kissing my eyelids. I laughed and squirmed at the feeling, so affectionate and tender.

"You're so pretty when you cry," he whispered against my lips, and then kissed me. Once softly, then firmly, then softly again, like he was trying to confuse me. "I can't wait to watch that video later," he murmured on my neck. I giggled and rolled over on my side, pressing my face into the pillow and inhaling deeply. It didn't smell as good as the other one that he was laying on, but it still smelled faintly of him.

I hadn't ever caught the scent before, because he always seemed to just smell... clean. No cologne, no scented soap, just, there. But now, laying in his bed, on his pillows, I could smell just the hint of a sweet, savory musk, and it made me so happy.

This guy, I realized, was so much more than I knew. All I knew was the physical. There was so much more to him than that. Would I ever get to learn it? Really learn who he was and what he likes? What was the game now, I wondered. It felt like it was changing. What was it changing into? Where were we going?

Where did I want it to go?

I remembered what he had told me before; it was the relationship and the connection that I wanted, and that was what he was purposefully holding back from me. But now it was like he was giving me just a taste of it, to make me want it even more.

"Sir," I whispered softly before I even realized I was saying it. "Are we changing the game?"

"Oh yes, Megan. Yes we are. It won't be long now."

"For what, Sir?"