The Right One

I drink some more wine, hating the bitter taste of other women who have gotten this version of Ethan and have probably done a better job than I ever will.

"Depending on how that goes, maybe you'll feel more comfortable with me taking more control. I promise to be patient but that doesn't mean you won't receive any punishment." He looks a bit concerned. "I will try to set some ground rules so that you can know how to avoid punishment but in the end, I am a masochist at heart."

"What does that mean?" I know what the word means but what does it mean in this context?

"It means that there will be times when I will incorporate pain into our sessions but not as a form of punishment to you. You will hopefully come to enjoy the pleasure that pain can bring." He takes in my grimace and tries to use a soothing tone. "It sounds scary at first. But little by little I will expose you to things you will enjoy. And hopefully one day, you'll want to do what I want because you'll find joy in providing me pleasure." I can hear the hope in his tone.

It makes me want to jump up and ask him to show me right now. Maybe I will like what he has to teach me and maybe it's worth putting us both out of our misery. I take a deep breath instead and try to take another sip of my drink before realizing I don't have anymore. He said one glass. And I know he means it. I set my glass down.

"What are some of your ground rules?" I let the buzz from the wine calm my nerves a bit.

He sits up straighter. "I appreciate a sub who is punctual." His eyes gleam as I am sure he is remembering the last time I was late. "You take very good care of your appearance, so I don't think that will be an issue. I will have urges to order for you sometimes but that can wait if you are not comfortable with it yet."

"That is okay." I suck it up. I don't think it will be an issue.

"You do have a say." He grabs my hand. "Not just with food but anything else that happens between us. Some people use safe words not only when they're being intimate but whenever they feel that things are too intense for them. You don't need safe words. You can use your own words to communicate with me. When you say stop or you say you don't want to continue, I will listen." He drops his chin. "I don't do well when people say one thing but mean another so, please try to be as honest as you can be."

I nod. "Anything else?"

"I will ask if things are okay for you in the beginning. Specifically, when we're trying new things. I will need to know if you are open to allowing me to lead unless you think something is wrong. You don't have to explain why you don't want to do something unless you are comfortable with it. Just know it will be more effective for us if we keep our communication open and honest."

"I agree."

He flashes me a small smile. "I also prefer to be called Sir."

Oh yes, how could I forget!

"I'm sorry, Sir." My cheeks heat up.

He shakes his head. "You're doing wonderful."

"Thank you, Sir."

He finishes his water. "If you are open to it, I would like to give you a taste of pleasure tonight as a reward for giving me these," He pulls out my panties from his pocket.

I nod eagerly and wait for him to lead the way.

He pats the spot on his lap and rests his legs across the couch.

I sit between his legs and allow him to pull my back against his chest.

His lips come up to my ear. "Shall we check how wet you are from sitting across from your ex-boss and his wife with no underwear?"

I moan and nod in response.

He brings the panties up to his nose and inhales deeply. "I don't know how long I will be able to hold off from tasting you." His hand trails down between my breasts and down to my jeans. He unbuttons them and takes his sweet time unzipping. His fingers lightly tease the opening, barely touching my skin.

"Ethan," I arch, trying to get him to touch me where I need him the most.

His other hand comes out and pinches my nipple through my shirt. I yelp and try to settle down.

"Remember, I am in control. And I am your master when we're being intimate." His tone is harsher than I've ever heard it.

"Yes, Master." I try to appease him.

"That's right, baby." He rewards me by digging two fingers into my pants and immediately sneaking them into my wet pussy. "I am your master."

I arch again, clenching around his fingers. His other hand rubs along my sore nipple, treating it with better care. I close my eyes and lean my head back against his shoulder. "Please, Master." I feel the orgasm building and so must he. But he is staying clear of my swollen clit.

"Do you need to cum, little one?" He plucks at my nipples and keeps a steady pace between my legs. I feel the juices trickling down my crack and onto his fingers. "How long have you been thinking about cumming against my fingers?"

I moan louder and try to close my thighs against his fingers to build some pressure on my clit but he uses his own legs to hold mine apart.

"You can't take it, baby. I have to give it to you." He slaps my breasts and twists my nipple in warning.

"I'm sorry, Sir." I feel the sweat forming on my forehead and know the blood pulsing through my body is now under his control. My mind is completely out of depth and I cannot think of anything other than getting off from his teasing words and torturous fingers.

"You know, I should probably leave soon. Seeing as you left dinner early because you were feeling under the weather. I don't want to risk catching what you have." He slows down.

He sounds so unlike himself. Not the caring Ethan that would have offered to buy me some soup and wished me a speedy recovery. He sounds like the sadistic asshole who would leave me crying a river without getting to cum against his hand. Instead of feeling pissed off and turned off by his threat, I just want to jump through hoops and have him be pleased with me. Reward me for my good behavior, not be upset that I was a coward earlier and almost ran away.

"No, please, Sir!" My moans are harder to contain and I know I'm on the edge of something deliciously dark. My mind swirls in molasses. "I need you, Sir."

"You didn't seem to need me the last time we were together." He flicks my nipple and speeds up his fingers between my legs.

"Sir!" I buck and try to alleviate some pressure, knowing that if I cum against his hand right now, without his permission, he will not be happy at all. And what I want more than anything is for him to be happy right now. It will wash away our last interaction. It will start us off on the right note. "Please, I need you, Sir. I need you to allow me to cum."

He grunts against my words and I feel his hard cock against my back for the first time. It seems our session is going great if he's getting as much pleasure from it as I am.

"Cum, little one. Quickly now." He pulls hard on my nipple and finally swirls his thumb against my sensitive clit.

I cum, tumbling down an unknown path of mist and overpowering control. My hips buck against his hand, barely containing the curse words on my lips. His assault on my nipples only prolongs the orgasm until I'm panting and quivering under his touch. My mind slams back down into my body, catching up to everything that just happened on my couch.

He gently guides me to stand and removes my pants.

I watch him, with hooded lids and barely contain my moan when he swipes his fingers against my slick center.

"Stay still." He goes into the kitchen and I hear the water running.

The embarrassment of standing half-naked in my living room starts to creep in just as he returns. My whole body is flushed so I know he won't notice the high color rising to my cheeks. His large hands guide my legs apart so he can clean between them with the wet paper towel. He watches my reaction as he takes his time cleaning.

I can't quite meet his eyes so I look away.

"Look at me." He pinches my clit lightly.

I jump but meet his gaze. The pulsing between my legs intensifies and I just know if he was to run his fingers against my pussy, he would feel my want. Every inch of my body wants to be close to him. I want him to continue touching me. So, why is it so hard to meet his eyes?

"When we're being intimate, I want your eyes on me unless I tell you otherwise." He finishes up and tosses the paper towel in the trash.

"I read that Doms prefer their subs to keep their eyes cast down." I lightly mention.

The corner of his lips quirk. "Did you?"

I nod, keeping my eyes on him.

He sits and pats his lap once more, pulling me down so that I straddle him. "What else did you read?"

I try to be careful about not completely sitting on his lap, afraid that I'll make a mess on his pants if I'm not too careful. He rests both hands on my hips and lowers me completely, reminding me that he is in control of what I do. I hope he doesn't mind walking around with a wet stain then. Maybe he won't though. The fact that he cleaned me up, leaves me a bit unsettled. I've never had a guy do that before. I was always expected to take care of myself after sex. Maybe once or twice I was tossed a used sock to clean cum off my back, but never a warm wet towel.

I try to ignore that and focus on his question. My mind flashes back to all those sleepless nights when I fell into the BDSM dark rabbit hole. Those nights were the toughest to get through. Because I would picture Ethan and his hands expertly doing everything that I was reading. There was no doubt in my mind he would be more than capable of doing everything I read about.

"I read about bondage and a little about sadism." It was more than a little but I don't want to get his hopes up.

"What did you think about that?" He lifts my hands in the air and pulls my shirt over my head. "May I?" He motions to the bra.

I nod. "It was interesting." To say the least. I lower my hands.

He disposes of my bra carefully, next to the couch. His large thumbs come up to rub against my hard nipples. I look down and see the reddened peaks.

"Do they feel sore?" He flicks them lightly.

I nod.

His mouth swoops in and latches onto one, lightly licking and sucking.

I moan and hold his head against my breast. His hands immediately come up and pull my wrists behind my back. My breasts press against his lips, giving him better access. He moves on to the other nipple and kisses it gently. My breaths come out with more urgency and it is hard to control my hips when his cock presses against my dripping center. If only he was not fully clothed. It doesn't escape me that this is another power move. Keeping me completely naked while he is totally covered up.

He sits back and looks up at me, the hunger very evident this time.

"Was I too rough on your breasts earlier?" He licks his lips, distracting me for a moment.

I shake my head.

He pinches my nipple and holds my hands behind my back when I jump. "Use your words."

"No." I still shake my head.

He pinches a little harder and I yelp. "No, Sir." He rubs my pebbles gently.

"No, Sir," I say breathlessly.

His fingers softly touch each breast. "They're perfect." He kisses each one. Running his pinky under one breast and then the other.

While his words and touch are soothing at the moment, I know just how rough he can be. It keeps me on edge. The pain itself isn't out of this world. I've had rough partners in the past so I should be less afraid. The wolfish gaze is what keeps me on my toes. Ethan is not like my previous partners. He draws the line on the ground and expects me to walk over it with little to no mistakes.

"One of my favorite forms of punishment will come down on your breasts," He admits. "They're very sensitive and easily color." He looks at them with a sense of desire.

"Yes, Sir." I don't know if I'm meant to answer, but I do. Anything to keep him happy and touching me the way he is.

We sit there for a long time. Him rubbing my breasts, mulling at them with his large hands while I try to sit still. My squirming earns me a few bites and flicks but it only adds more depth to my pleasure. Based on what I read online, I may be a masochist if I enjoy his rough hands. I should be shying away from his nibbles, instead and I press my breasts against his teeth with more eagerness than expected. My panting embarrasses me but I can't control it at this point.

His unwavering gaze is just as it always has been. He pays full attention to every sigh, every moan, and every whimper. His cock strains against his pants but he makes no move to free it. He doesn't even care that I brazenly rub myself along it to keep my lust on a high. He does notice it and even smiles but he lets me continue. I move my hips with more urgency as he pulls on my nipples and I feel a second wave coming my way.

"Don't cum." He casually mentions, between licking my breasts.

I stop moving instantly and that earns me a slap on my thigh.

"Keep going." He sucks my nipple between his teeth and flicks his tongue on it.

"I can't." I catch my breath. "Sir," I add, to avoid another reprimand.

"Sure, you can." He uses one hand to guide my hips back and forth against his pants.

"But I will cum." I whimper when he presses me further against his hard-on.

"Maybe you should've thought of that before starting." He simply shrugs. His hand continues to move my hips against his laps and his lips move more urgently against my breasts.

Through the lustful haze, I realize my mistake. I innocently thought that rubbing against him would be fine. Maybe I should have asked before doing so. It seems his need to control comes down to practically every movement. Should I start getting mentally prepared for another punishment? Tears begin to form behind my lids and I hold my breath.

I can do this.

I start to think of other things. I try to slow down my movements and sit up a little straighter.

"Oh no, you don't." He keeps the same pace between my legs, grinding into my wet pussy. "Look at me."

I do and I regret it. There is a playful smile on his lips. The same one he gives me when we talk about the weather or his job. The easygoing one that he gives the waitress when she brings our drinks out quicker than expected. Yet, I know the smile is coming from a dark place. Some twisted place that takes pleasure in my impending punishment. He knows he has me caught. This will be a lesson I won't forget.

"You're going to make me cum in my pants if you keep this up." He chuckles.

I grasp at that and speak up, between deep breaths. "Please, Sir," I lick my lips. "Cum in my mouth."

He raises an eyebrow and narrows his eyes. It works though. He stops moving against my hips. "You want my cum?"

I nod eagerly, trying to calm the pulsing between my legs while he contemplates. "I need your cum in me, Sir." I lay it on thick.

"I know what you're doing." His voice is flat. "But you've been pretty open to a lot tonight. So, why not?" He grabs me by my hair and lowers me down between his legs. "Lick your mess first." He presses my face against his pants.

I lean forward and lick the wet spot I left there. The muskiness is a welcomed diversion from the way my juices have caused another mess between my legs. I'm thorough in my cleaning. Making sure that I've sucked out every drop. He pulls my head back and unzips himself. His cock comes out but he doesn't let me touch it.

"Open up, tongue out." He keeps my face inches from his magnificent cock.

It is impressive. Both in length and girth. I clench around nothing, wishing he was between my legs. It is slightly darker than the rest of his body and the thick vein running under it looks like it is about to burst. I can imagine the smooth feel of it on my tongue.

He pumps himself a few times and only then does he position it close to my tongue. Still, he doesn't let me lick it or touch it. I want to whine and ask him to let me wrap my lips around it but I am sure this is another form of punishment. His next words confirm it.

"I will control when you get my cum and I will control when you can suck my cock, is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir." I can't hide the disappointment in my tone.

I've never truly been a fan of sucking dick. It was always just a means to get my boyfriend off. Never once did I have the urge to feel them against my tongue and cum down my throat. They were always more focused on their pleasure to involve me in any way. Other than holding me against them as they took care of themselves. Right now, I want Ethan's large cock in my mouth. I want him to use my lips and my tongue however he sees fit. I want to bring him pleasure. I don't want him to use his hands.

He pumps two more times and cums against my tongue. I keep my mouth open wide, resisting the urge to get closer. He briefly closes his eyes and lets out a harsh grunt.

I wait, his hand still in my hair.

He catches his breath and guides my mouth closed. I swallow and stay on my knees. He caresses my cheek and he smiles.

"Good girl."

My insides turn to mush.

>>>

He takes great measures to assure that I'm comfortable by the time I lay in bed.

From the moment that he picked me up from my kneeling position to cleaning between my legs once more, and finally carrying me to bed and running his hands through my hair. Every touch and minor brush of his hands pull me deeper into his trance. The moment we finished our 'session', as he called it, I thought maybe we would continue until we were wrapped up in each other's arms. It seems, he takes the post-intimacy stage very seriously and kisses my forehead as a reward. It altogether feels like it is still very much intimate between us, just on a sweeter level than I have yet to experience with him.

He is sitting next to me at the edge of my bed while I lay under the covers, completely naked.

"I should head back to Rupert's." He looks down at his watch. His other hand remains in my hair. "I have an early flight and all of my things are still at his place."

A twinge of sadness grips my heart and I turn away briefly, not wanting him to see my moment of weakness.

Why should he see me upset when he has been an absolute gentleman? He has spent time with me after our intense play. Much more than any other guy I've ever slept with. But with each brushing of his lips against my skin, I want him to stay. Who knows when we'll see each other again? Months can pass and I don't know how I'm expected to go on about my day when I know he will be in all of my thoughts.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Get it together! He can leave. He can go back to his life and arrange to see me whenever he has time. He isn't a long-term boyfriend that I have high expectations for. This is all experimental. I should be glad that he's leaving tonight. Some space between us will be good for me. Having him in small doses should be the best way to navigate this new lifestyle. I shouldn't feel so hurt by his departure. Not when we haven't even slept together.

Not really.

Not in the way that counts.

"Have a safe trip." I look into his concerned gaze.

"Remember what I said about saying one thing and meaning another?" His tone is expectant.

I press my lips together, tempted to kick him out of my house but dreading what it would mean for both of us. The part that wants to push him out of my door is acting in survival mode. The less time he's around me, the better I can think and the more I can focus on myself. Then there is this soft part of me, that I'm trying to beat down, that wants to ask him to stay. If he wanted to, he would. But I need space. I should demand it.

He sighs in disappointment. "Everything was going so well, Leila." My name on his lips doesn't sound as sweet as usual. "Please be honest with me. I don't want us to leave tonight with anything unsaid."

"When will I see you again?" That is my most pressing concern.