Finding Mr. Wright Ch. 08

I had been grappling with that issue. How could I be a modern woman with a career and solid life, and yet give up control of myself like that? Didn't that mean I was less of a woman, or that something was wrong with me? What Aaron had just said help me clear that up a bit, but the uncertainty was still there.

"Let's do something to make you feel a bit more comfortable then. Get back up on your knees." I moved from the sitting position back up to the kneeling position he showed me earlier. "Now, Elizabeth, I want you to lean forward and take off my shoes and socks, setting them next to the chair."

That was simple enough, I thought. I leaned forward and untied each shoe, slipping each one off and placing them where he said. I then removed his socks and draped them across the shoes, not curling them up and shoving them into the shoe but placing them neatly over the shoe. I looked at his feet and thought wow, he even had sexy feet. Even there you could tell he took care of himself and was very well groomed and healthy.

When I finished, I moved back and returned to the kneeling position and looked up at him. My heart was starting to pound in my chest again as I performed these tasks.

He stared into my eyes as he gave me my next command. "Take off my pants and underwear. Fold the pants and place them next to my shoes, with my underwear on top." His eyes blazed into mine as he said this, examining me, waiting to see how I would respond.

As those words sank in, I could feel the goosebumps raise all over my body, that same nervous energy rippling through me again. I began to breathe in light, short breaths as I rocked forward on my knees, moving in closer to him, towards his lap. My fingers slightly trembling, I reached for his belt, undoing the buckle and untucking the strap. I unfastened the clasp and button of his pants, reaching for the zipper. For the first time ever, I was so close to him, to his manhood, and I could see the bulge in his pants. I was staring right at it. I unzipped his zipper and opened the front of his pants. All I could see at this point was his dress shirt, neatly tucked in.

I reached around him, following his belt line with my hands, my thumbs almost on the inside of his pants. As my hands reached around him, I pulled downwards with my thumbs, letting the pants come down behind his butt. He lifted slightly, letting the pants come down further and under him, and I pulled them forward so he could sit back down. He lowered himself back to the seat and I pulled his pants further down around his thighs, his skin finally coming into view as the pants slipped past his tucked in shirt. I pulled them down to the floor and slipped each leg out. I was anxious to look further, to see more of him, but I didn't want to seem too overly anxious, so I focused on folding the pants and placing them next to his shoes.

I turned back to him and saw him sitting in the chair. His legs had a light amount of hair on them and were firm and muscular. I couldn't have imagined them looking any better. His shirt was pooled around his midsection and was barely covering his underwear. My breathing was still coming in short breaths as my excitement rose. I leaned forward again, moving over his thighs. I traced my hands slowly on each side of his thighs, lightly rubbing against his skin, just to give him the feel and sensation of my touch. My right hand moved up to the buttons on his shirt and I undid the lowest two buttons so his shirt would fall open, revealing his dark blue bikini style cotton underwear.

Both of my hands moved to his sides, near his hips, and my fingers looped inside each side of his underwear. I pulled down again slowly, just like I did with his pants, and he lifted again. I pulled them down, seeing them uncover the back of his butt, then moving and revealing himself to me, finally able to see what was between his legs. He didn't disappoint. It wasn't gigantic by any means, but it certainly wasn't small. It was difficult for me to tell in his semi-erect state, but he was definitely gifted. He had shaved himself smooth around his testicles and shaft, but not over his abdomen. I resisted the urge to immediately touch it. I wanted to feel it in my hands so desperately. I inadvertently licked my lips and swallowed, and though I realized what I had just done and tried to disguise it, I'm sure he noticed my reaction. Leaning back on my knees again, I folded his underwear in half and put those by his pants. I returned my hands to my thighs like he had shown me, waiting for what would come next.

"How did that make your feel, Elizabeth, to remove my pants and underwear and see me naked?" he asked me.

"Excited and aroused ... Sir," I answered, my voice quivering slightly. I was so focused on him, I almost forgot to add the 'sir.'

He smiled. "Now, on the topic of sexual activities. I assume you are open to sexual contact and intercourse, correct?" I nodded, not trusting my voice at that point. "Does that include using your hands and your mouth on me, and being touched and having me use my mouth and hands on you?" Again, I nodded. "Tell me, Elizabeth. I want to hear you say it."

"I ... I'm open to that, Sir," I responded, but that wasn't what he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear me say it more specifically, so after a brief pause, I added, "I would love to be able to touch you, with my hands or my mouth or any part of my body, and let you touch me in any way you want, wherever you want ... Sir." Concentrating more on what I said, I almost forgot the 'Sir' part again. When gave voice to my thoughts, though, telling what I just had, I was not prepared for the thrilling wave of excitement that came over me. I had never said anything like that out loud before. I hadn't had to do that with anyone. Speaking it out loud made me feel vulnerable, and just saying it was unlike anything I had experienced. I was surprised and excited at this new level of arousal for me, one that took me completely by surprise. Being told to reveal something so intimate and so pleasurable ... something I wanted to do that was wild and very personal ... vocalizing it was a new sensation that this whole experience opened up for me. Like almost everything else so far, I wanted more.

"Good," he stated again, abruptly. "Now, I want you to reach forward and touch me and massage me as we continue to talk. Make me hard, but go slowly."

I didn't say anything ... I didn't have to. I had just finished telling him what I wanted to do. My hands moved forward and I moved the edges of his shirt to the sides. I rested my forearms lightly on his thighs and for the first time, I touched his shaft. I moved my fingers lightly over it the skin, seeing it respond to my touch. I traced my nails along it before lifting it and wrapping my hand around it. It felt so soft and warm right now, so nice in my hand, so sensual and arousing in doing this for him. I began moving my hand up and down slowly, stroking him, as I felt him getting harder. I looked up at his face as I continued to massage him with my hand, searching for his reaction, hoping he was liking it. Our eyes met, and if I couldn't tell he was liking it from the fact that he was getting harder and growing, I knew it from the look in his eyes.

I stared at him with desire blatantly evident in my face ... my eyes locked on his. After a minute or so, I switched to my other hand, squeezing him tightly, not moving my hand so fast so that it would be working him towards a climax, but just moving slowly, pleasing him and making him feel good with my hand. I used my opposite hand on his thigh, lightly touching him there with my nails and my fingertips, giving him a separate sensation to add to what my hand was already doing while wrapped around him.

He spoke up then. "That feels very, very good, Elizabeth." He closed his eyes in satisfaction but kept talking. "Now what about other types of sexual activity? Have you given any thought to those?"

"What do you mean, Sir?"

"Some of the less common and more wild activities, like anal play or group play. What are your thoughts there?"

"I'm not experienced in either of those, Sir. I think I might like to try, but I think I would need the proper ... um ... guidance ... before I did anything."

He kept his eyes closed. I wasn't sure whether he was just relaxing and enjoying this as I continued to use my hands on him, or whether he was imagining doing those things he described. It didn't matter to me, as I was very much enjoying touching him and holding him in my hand, and seeing the effect I had on him.

"That's understandable then. I'm glad you are keeping an open mind and willing to try things you haven't yet experienced." I kept moving my hand on him, up and down, slowly, making sure not to go too fast, even making a wave motion with my fingers to vary the feeling for him. It was less like I was masturbating him, or trying to get him to orgasm, and more like I was teasing him. By this time, he was very hard. I loved that I do that for him, that I had that good of an effect on him.

"What about semen? Are you open to having semen in your face, on your body, or in your mouth?"

When he said that, I instantly felt dirty ... not in a bad sense, but it a wild and eager way ... an exciting way. I answered him honestly, noticing that as I continued to use my hands on him, as he asked me more and more, my arousal was growing, just like his. "I think so, Sir. I don't have much experience with doing those things, either."

"No?" he asked, "even for as long as you were married?"

"No, Sir, it was never like that for us. It was very plain."

"What about other times? Have you ever had a guy ejaculate in your mouth?"

"Yes Sir. In college ... once."

"Once? That's all?"

I almost felt ashamed that I hadn't had this happen more. I felt bad in an odd way, almost like maybe he wouldn't want me anymore because I was so inexperienced.

I guess he felt my sense of rejection, maybe I had slowed down with my hand, or he saw something in my face, because he said, "That's okay. Don't be embarrassed at all. Different people have different lives, different opportunities, and different social situations. There's nothing wrong with doing something or not doing something, I was just a bit surprised. I'm sorry if my reaction bothered you."

That helped to relieve my tension on the subject, and allowed me to return my focus to what I was doing. Maybe he would let me use my mouth on him tonight? Maybe I could taste him? The thought made me feel dirty and wild and excited. Six months ago, I probably would have been disgusted by the thought, but now, with all these new feelings and exploration, I was looking forward to the opportunity.

"So tell me about it ... who was it? What happened?"

I hesitated for the briefest of moments, but eventually spoke, "It was when I was in college. I went to a college frat party. One of the few times in college I had gotten a little too drunk. I was with two friends, one of whom had a boyfriend in the fraternity. He had two friends and we were all standing around talking when my friend took off with her boyfriend and went upstairs. Before I knew it, my other friend decided to leave and go home, so that left me alone with the remaining guy. He was cute enough, but not really my type. He played a sport, though I don't remember which one. Anyway, he brought me to a back room and we started kissing. After a while, his hands were roaming all over me, and in the state I was in, I didn't resist that much, though I probably should have. He took off his pants and before I could say anything, he pushed my head down and towards his crotch. I opened up my mouth and started on him. It didn't take him long before he climaxed. I really didn't know what to do. I wasn't prepared for that to happen so fast. I just spit it out. I felt a little sick after that and told the guy I had to go to the bathroom. Instead, I snuck out and left."

"Did you feel sick because of what you did?"

"That might have been it, or maybe it was the shock and surprise of what happened, coupled with the alcohol, too."

"That's one of the reasons we don't serve alcohol in the Society. Many of us drink socially, but in our unique setting, we don't want anyone to do something they don't absolutely want to do. We want their minds fresh and uninhibited without the effects of alcohol." I was glad to hear that, and it made perfect sense. It was another way that, even though they did some outlandish things, they still made sure it was safe and with everyone's full consent.

Aaron broke me from my thoughts, saying, "Let me ask you this ... since you said you thought you were open to doing it. If we get that far tonight, would you want to do that, tonight, for me?"

I nodded, unable to find my voice as I realized what he was asking. I sensed something in him, he got harder as I nodded, as if that was even possible. I could tell he liked the idea. In reflection, so did I!

He didn't stop what we were talking about to get into that right away, though. He continued on with his discussion of activities, though now he was keeping his eyes open, looking into mine, watching me and what I was doing as I massaged and stroked him. "I think I know the answer to this next question, but I want to hear you say it. How do you feel about impact play, like flogging or whipping?"

"I'm very interested in that, Sir. Almost all of the things in that area are very exciting for me. Not the more extreme pain and torture, but things like spanking with different things, flogging, maybe even whips, though I think I'd have to work up to that. Nothing that is abusive or leaves long lasting marks or is too dangerous, though."

"Good. That too is an area that I like very much, but I'm more on the light side than the heavy. Some of the dominants like to get really hard with this type of activity; I'm not like that. I like to mix things up, going from one thing to another. But in this area of hard physical impact play, it's more about what you want, rather than me."

'That's a relief,' I thought. I was a little scared he might want to whip or spank all the time, and though I was sure I wanted to try it, I wasn't sure I wanted it all the time. I'm glad that he was into more things in this than just the whipping and spanking.

"Okay, how about 'sensation' play? There are different levels of this, from light touching and caressing to scratching to electricity to hot wax. What are your thoughts on this? Do you know if there is a level that is off limits?"

I had taken time to look over the list, so I already knew what he was talking about. This actually took me some time to research and think about, as I didn't understand at first how many people could do some of the more extreme things that would fall under this topic, like being cut with a knife or branded with a hot iron. This is one area where I already knew my answer, before he even asked the question.

"Well," I began, "I've looked over this quite a bit. Certainly the more innocent things like massaging and play with feathers would be fine, even ice cubes and hot wax, though that would depend on how hot it was and the degree of sensation there. I would draw the line at anything that is dangerous or permanent, like fire or tattoos or branding or anything like that."

He nodded in understanding. "I think we are very much alike there, Elizabeth," he said. "It seems we are on the same page with quite a few things we both enjoy. I don't like anything permanent or dangerous, and I'm pretty sure I've mentioned that to you before. Dangerous things like breath play, asphyxiation and knife play just are too much. You know people have died from breath play? There's really no way to do that safely. I mean, I don't judge anyone, but it seems to me that it really isn't worth it, no matter how good it might feel to them." He paused for a second, then continued, "I would like to tie you up and blindfold you, then subject you to different sensations, so you never know what to expect. Would you like that?"

"Yes Sir," I replied immediately. That idea really captivated me.

He nodded, not discussing it any further. Maybe that would be something else we might do tonight, I thought. My mind was reeling with the possibilities. Of course, throughout this time, I was still stroking him. Having my hand on him and stroking him like this while we talked about these things in a somewhat abstract way was very erotic. I could feel the moisture welling up in me, between my legs.

"Almost done," he said. The way he said it, I wasn't sure whether he was referring to our discussion, or whether he was close to climaxing. I had really focused on how I was touching him, squeezing hard, moving slowly, taking an active interest in mixing up the sensations for him so it didn't get repetitive. He continued.

"Another topic is humiliation. This is more of a mental exercise than a physical one, though it can have physical aspects as well. I do like to do this, humiliation I mean, but that when I do it, I don't mean it in a cruel way. It is more of a way to bring out the sensual and seductive, rather than the cruel and mean. For example, I wouldn't just call you a name outright in a demeaning way, like a slut. I would ask you if you feel like a slut, or whether you wanted to be my slut. It's a big difference if you understand how it is meant and where it's coming from. One way it is intended to put someone down, and for me, that's the wrong way to do it. In my opinion, the right way to do it is when you ask what the submissive is feeling, it is to incite the mind of the submissive to have her focus on her mental feelings. Couple this with her body and what she is physically feeling, and it can really increase the state of arousal. Understand?"

"I think I do, Sir," I answered, but I wasn't sure. "We might have to try it and see, but I'm not against trying. I want to experience as much as I can."

He smiled. "As I said before, I'm glad you are open to these things. You won't upset me if we try and you don't like it. I especially want you to tell me if you don't, and I'll be upset only if you don't tell me the truth."

I nodded, though I was a little unsure of this area of play. I had thought about it. I didn't want to be a slut or degraded and humiliated and made to feel stupid. I didn't want Aaron calling me names if he thought less of me and just enjoyed calling me names to making me feel small. At the same time, the thought of being a proper female attorney on one hand, and a wanton depraved wild sexual woman, or 'slut,' on the other hand, an interesting complexity to it. Maybe so long as it was just with him, and no one else knew, then it would be good, even fun.

"How about roleplay scenarios?" he went on to the next topic. "There can be quite a range here, from simple 'innocent college schoolgirl/teacher' to 'prisoner' to 'prostitute/john' to 'gang bang' to 'kidnapping' to 'fantasy rape.' Are any of those of interest?"

There was a lot in that question. I had already thought about some of those. Part of me liked the rape fantasy, and since I was already massaging him, I thought I would tell him about it and let him fantasize while I stroked him. "I'm open to many of those, but not everything, though I guess it would really depend on how we would go about doing each one. I do have a rape fantasy, but not in a sense of brutality or being violently forced and hurt. I can tell you the fantasy if you'd like to hear it."

"I'd love to," he replied. He relaxed in the chair and closed his eyes again as I started my story.

"I imagine walking home one night and it's dark and a stranger surprises me. He is strong and well-built and is initially polite. I'm a little apprehensive so I brush him off and try to walk away, but he starts following me. He is fairly well dressed and clean, not like a homeless person or thug. As I walk away, he picks up his pace, eventually coming up next to me. He tries to talk but I avoid him. He grabs me and pulls me into an alley and into a back room of a warehouse or something like that. I'm so shocked I don't even scream. Before I know it, he is on top of me, kissing me and touching me all over through my clothing. I try to resist but he overpowers me, though he doesn't hurt me. As he touches me all over, he is forceful, but not hurtful. Slowly his touching overcomes my resistance and though I still try to push him away, I struggle less and less. He senses this and takes off my clothing, then his. I don't run, and I just lay there, naked, watching him. He makes me use my mouth on him while his hands and fingers touch me and feel how wet I am, how turned on he has made me. He then takes me, right there. He finishes and just lays on top of me for a few minutes, before he gets up and leaves me lying there, never saying another word. I never see him again."