Carol looked at the paper in her hand. He'd told her to be there at 7:00 P.M. and to not be late. She'd left her home in plenty of time, so it came as no surprise that she was there 15 minutes early. Her long, slim fingers were clean of all polish and her face was clear of all make-up, just like he'd told her it needed to be. She was supposed to come to him clean and she was, even her hair was free of the usual chemicals she used on them.
Alan first saw Carol two months ago; they'd been inseparable ever since. Wednesday night they'd made love for the third time in their relationship; now he wanted to introduce her to what he hoped she'd enjoy. He told her that night she was to come to his place free of all inhibitions and with an open mind. He'd given her his apartment number as well as directions, and now he stood looking at her from his balcony. "God she's beautiful," he whispered. At that moment she looked up and saw him, their eyes locked and he stared down at her.
Something told Carol that this evening was just the beginning, the beginning to a new self-awareness and she felt as if a flock of butterflies had been let loose inside her. "I belong to him," she thought, wondering how she ever made it in life without him. She shivered as she made her way through the building until she reached his door. Carol was surprised when she stood before a closed door, she assumed he be there to greet her, but he wasn't. She knocked and waiting, wondering if perhaps he had to use the restroom before he opened the door.
Alan heard her knock and looked at the time. His fingers itched to touch her again, but he would have to start this evening out correctly so he sat there watching the television and ignored the second then third knock.
Carol screwed up her face and leaned against the wall of the hallway. A young woman and her boyfriend walked by and looked at Carol, an odd expression on the man's face. Carol watched them leave and saw the man bend down and whisper something in his girlfriend's. The girl turned around and said a bit louder then a whisper the word "pet?" Carol could tell by the girl's voice that the boyfriend hadn't explained something to his lady friend and when the couple left she found herself curious as to why the man had groaned and hurried his friend along.
Looking at his watch he saw the time hit 7:00 and he opened the door to his apartment. "Hello. 7:00 on the dot," he said.
Carol smirked, "Hello... umm yeah. 7:00." She shook her head in confusion, but said nothing else, nor did she mention the couple she'd seen. She was just glad to be with him.
They could feel the electricity running between them, neither spoke as he stepped away to let her enter the room. Carol's heart beat rapidly as she felt his arms surround her. He pulled her close, kissed her deep, and pressed her back against the now closed door. His tongue moved over her lips, down her chin, her neck, the dip of her chest that was exposed by the cut of her blouse. He tasted her flesh, smelled the perfume of her body; the natural scents of her aroused him. His fingers tore at the buttons of her blouse; he was too hungry to wait. Pulling the sides apart with his hands, the sound of tearing fabric filled the room. "You're mine," he growled before ripping the clasp apart on the front of her bra.
The twin globes sprang free, the nipples hard and full. Carol whimpered, watched his mouth take in one of her pink pearls, and felt her body attempt to slide down. "Yes," she muttered, her fingers moved to his hair. She held him close. She felt the bite of his teeth; the tearing and pulling of her flesh brought a moan to her lips. "Alan," she gasped. "I can't wait."
Alan looked up, his features changing slightly, but not enough to startle her. "You have to wait . . . that is what tonight is all about . . . waiting. Learning and waiting Carol. You'll learn to wait. I'll teach you how." He stepped back, took her hand, and led her through his apartment, making sure to show her the lay out. When they arrived at the bedroom, he sat on the bed and stared at her. "Strip for me," he demanded, his voice not frightening, yet full of demand.
Carol smirked, "Gladly." She finished taking off the tattered shirt and torn bra. Her fingers ran over her nipples and she tweaked one. Before she could tweak the other, Alan was gripping her wrist.
"No," he told her. His voice was stronger, more demanding, and a shiver ran through her. She cocked her head and a look of questioning crossed her face. "From now on I tell you when you can touch yourself. Agreed?"
Alan watched her lips pucker as she thought of what he'd said. She knew she'd liked the feeling that ran through her, as well as the firm, forceful grip he had on her wrists. "When we're together? Or always?" she asked. She was curious as to the "rules" of this little demand he'd asked of her.
"Always. I'll let you know when it is okay to touch yourself. I travel a lot, so there will be times I'll allow it, but I will have to give you permission first," he told her. He waited for her agreement and when she accepted his rule he released her wrist and moved back to sit on the edge of the bed. "Finish," he told her.
Carol smiled. Her fingers slipped to her waist and curled into the waist band of her denim shorts. She unsnapped the button and slid the zipper down. Her finger slipped over the bald mound of her sex, and she pressed against it, no panties blocked her path of exploration.
He'd seen her face change from the seductress stripping for her lover to one that showed a hint of pleasure. Again he was up and pulling her hand away from her body. "Did you forget already slut?" Alan wanted to feel the place where her hand had been, but he waited for her reaction to his words.
A flash of indecision and then excitement coursed through Carol as she was forced to feel shivers of another type of desire roll over her. "Slut?" she whispered, her brow lifted, her pulse raced. She'd been called that before, but it never had this effect on her. She felt a bead of moisture slip from her sex.
"Aren't you?" he asked. Alan wanted her so much, but he also knew she was headstrong, not easily bent, and not easily broken. He didn't want her broken, but he did want her to bend. His sex was aching to slide into her slick folds, but he knew he wanted and needed her to give herself over to him.
The shudder that passed through her caused her whole body to shake slightly. Another bead of juice freed itself from her pussy. "Only yours Alan," she whispered, licking her lips in anticipation for more. "Only yours."
"Sir," he told her. "I'm Sir now. When we make love, I'm Alan. When we fuck, I'm Sir. Understood?"
"Yes Sir," Carol knew this first time was going to be fucking and she grew more heady with lust.
"And what am I?" she asked him. "Slut and Carol?" she rolled her eyes at him.
Alan's other hand grabbed her chin and pulled her face close to his. He glared at her. "Don't disrespect me, slut. You're Alan's slut and you're only Carol when I say your name, other wise you're always Alan's slut when we are screwing, understood?" Alan's cock strained against his slacks. He would need her to relieve him of the pressure soon, but he couldn't right now. He had to wait and see how far he could go this first time. She'd not given him head yet, but all day he'd been wanting it, wanting to see her mouth take him in and swallow his seed.
"Yes Sir," she whispered, her fingers curled into fists at her sides. No fear was evident in her face, body, or thoughts. If someone were to look at the couple, they would only see pure hunger raging through them both.
"Good . . . now what's my name?" he asked.
"Wonderful," he told her, released her, and sat back down on the bed. "Finish," he demanded. He watched her bend down and slip her sandals from her feet. Her toenails were clean of polish and he smiled in appreciation, knowing she'd followed his first request to the letter. He knew her skin would be free of all perfumes except ones that God gave her as well as the ones they created together.
When Carol removed the shorts and stood before him naked, she waiting for his next request. She ached to slip her fingers inside her moist cunt and show him how wet she was, but she didn't. She obediently kept her hands to her sides.
Alan drank her in. He stood up and walked around her, admiring her full body. She wasn't the slimmest girl he'd dated, but to Alan she was the most beautiful and the sexiest woman alive. She had brown hair that fell to her hips, often kept it in a braid, but for him she'd left it free to cascade in waves down her back. Her eyes were the color of blue bachelor buttons. He loved her eyes. Her skin was dotted with freckles; her breasts were large, full, and very heavy. He loved those as well. Her stomach wasn't small; it too was full, but he didn't care. He loved her. Alan had fallen deeply for the woman that now bared her body for him, exposing her imperfections, and giving him her trust completely and fully.
Carol felt subconscious as Alan walked around her. When he faced her again, the blush was no longer a raging pink, but a flaming red. She bit her lip and lowered her head, almost afraid to see the look of disgust in his eyes. He'd not seen her like this. When they made love, it was dark; she insisted on it. They were in her apartment, the lights were off, and she was usually already under the covers when he came to her side. Now she was here, fully open and on display for him.
"My God Carol," he whispered, losing his dominance for a moment to appreciate her openness. "Beautiful," he kissed her lips and stepped back from her. "Don't hide yourself from me ever again. We make love with the lights on, candlelight, moonlight, sunlight . . . I don't care, but you'll never hide this from me again. Understood?" His eyes flashed with a mixture of hunger and anger, anger at her denying him the pleasure of looking at her body.
Carol's heart exploded at that moment and she felt as beautiful as the words he'd spoken. She smiled and agreed, "Yes baby."
"What?" he asked, his voice returning to the demanding one of earlier.
A spark shot through Carol and her head snapped to attention as did her body. "Yes Sir," she countered with respect.
"Good, now undress me," he told her. He sat down on the bed and watched her bend to her knees and work the strings of his shoes free. Alan placed his hands on her head and combed his fingers through her hair as she removed each shoe and then each sock. She sat back on her legs and waited for him to stand.
Alan stood and Carol's fingers moved to his belt. She rose up to her knees, worked free the clasp and leather, pulled it from the loops, and was about to toss it to the side when she heard Alan's demanding "give it to me." She looked up, saw his outstretched hand. Her head cocked to one side, but she did as he'd ordered. She saw him toss it to the bed and she thought of him using it on her. A drop of moisture slipped from her folds as erotic images played on her mind.
"Slut . . . you have a job to do," he told her, his voice reaching through the lustful fog that kept growing.
"Yes Sir," she said. Her fingers released the snap of his jeans, the zipper began its journey down, and the black boxers were soon the only thing covering her lover's hard cock. Carol licked her lips in anticipation of having his shaft buried inside her and she wondered how long he'd make her wait. He stepped free of the denim. She took his boxers in her hands and pulled them down. His cock jerked free of the cotton and leapt toward her.
Carol stood to remove his shirt, but Alan pushed her back to the floor. "You're not finished yet," he told her. Carol looked up and then back to his swollen cock.
"Sir," she said. "I've never done that to anyone."
Alan could have grabbed her at that moment, plunged into her sex, and never looked back. He hadn't been her first lover in the sense of intercourse, but he would be her last. Knowing she'd never taken another into her mouth added to his aroused state and he fought a battle inside not to abandon this lesson of submission and just take her at that moment, claiming her as his property. "I'm glad to hear that Carol. You will learn."
He watched her smile and she stared back at his stiff rod. His hand took it and gripped the shaft. His other hand moved from her shoulder to her head and he closed the distance that separated the two lovers. "Open your mouth and take my cock."
Carol did as she was told. Her mouth opened and she bent her head down over the rigid member. Her tongue pushed the tip in further and soon she had his swollen sex enveloped in her warmth. She felt his fingers tighten on her head and then he began to lift her head up and down on the firm tool. Carol understood and she mimicked his movement; soon the pulling on her hair eased and she rolled her lips and tongue over his cock.
His shaft was on fire. Her virgin mouth was devouring him. It was like her mouth had been designed with him in mind. She was like a present waiting to be discovered. Alan could feel her gaining knowledge on how to please him and he shuddered in anticipation for more lessons. He could come now just knowing his seed would be the first she'd ever drank, but he wanted more of her mouth on him so he stilled her movements with one word. "Stop," he told her.
Carol whimpered. She didn't want to stop. She was so wet. She was dripping everywhere. "Sir?" she looked up at him, her eyes not understanding. "Please Sir, I would like to continue."
Alan closed his eyes, rolled his head from side to side, easing the tension he was forcing on himself. "You may . . . first you need to suck my balls slut," he told her. He cupped them and lifted them to her.
She didn't hesitate for a moment. Carol would have done anything he'd asked just as long as she got that wonderful cock back in her mouth. Her tongue pushed the small marbles back and forth, teasing each one with firm strokes. As Carol gained knowledge in what she did, she worked with more passion in an attempt to hear more growls of approval from his lips. "My cock, bitch," he shouted.
"Yes, oh God yes Sir," she grabbed his shaft, rammed it into her mouth and began to move her head up and down. Carol moved faster than she had earlier. Alan watched her take him deeper each time. He could feel the seeds of his sex building and he knew he'd empty his fluids into her.
Grabbing her hair he jerked her off his dick. "Drink my seed slut " he grunted.
A wave of heat ran over her and she pushed his sex back into her mouth. Carol groaned over his shaft, sucking, and stroking with her tongue and mouth. She wanted to taste the hot gift that belonged to her lover. She felt her mouth try and gag on his rod, but she refused it. She was supposed to take him, drink him. He'd told her to. She was determined to ride out the awkwardness and accept his gift. Angling her head and making a slight adjustment with her jaw eased the burden of his cock.
"Oh fuck," Alan said. When her virgin mouth deep throated his cock, he felt the electric bolt shoot through him. His balls tightened and his seed shot out. He forced her head further down, made her take all the hot liquid and swallow it. "Drink it slut," he gasped as he came.
The shot of come surprised her, the thought of it made her gag in natural disgust, but also brought a thrill to her. Knowing she was pleasing him only added to the pleasure and she kept sucking his cock. He gave her more of his liquid silk and she relished it. Her senses adjusted to the taste and she hungered for more. He'd ordered her to drink him and Carol could think of nothing that tasted more pleasant then her Master's come. That was what he was she realized. He was her Master, her Sir. She belonged to him.
Alan lifted her head from his softened cock and stroked her cheeks. "You've pleased me," he told her. "I will give you something . . . a reward." He slid his fingers over her lips and felt her tongue lick the pads of his fingers. "What do you want?" Alan asked while he moved his fingers back to her hair and combed them through it.
"I want to kiss you, Sir," her voice was meek, but her eyes, hungry.
"Kiss me my slut," he told her.
Carol stood up on shaky legs and for a moment she wasn't sure if they would support her or not. When she was steady, she leaned in, not yet touching him, unsure if she were allowed to or not. She pressed her lips to his and he opened his mouth, welcoming her tongue. Together they danced slowly, each muscle stroking the other. She gave him the taste of his sex and he drank it, loving the flavor of his arousal and her mouth. The kiss ended and Carol sighed. "Wow," she whispered before stepping back.
Alan smiled at her, ran a finger down her cheek, and over her lips again. "I want more."
"Oh God," she shivered in desire. "Yes Sir . . . I too want more. I need it very much," she said. Her fingers moved to his shirt and she looked at him. "May I continue to undress you?" she asked.
"Yes . . . while you do, I will tell you the next rule," he stood still for her, allowing her to undo a couple of buttons before speaking to her again. "I'm going to eat you out slut."
He smirked when she trembled in desire. He could smell her excitement and he wanted to taste it. "While I eat you . . . you can't come."
She stilled and looked at him. One button was all that remained, yet she was frozen as she tried to comprehend what he meant.
"I can't come?" she asked, not sure she'd heard him correctly, or hoping she hadn't.
"That's right," he said. "I will tell you when you can come. If you come without my permission there will be a punishment." He stared into her eyes and refused to ease up on his demanding glare.
Carol bit her lip, "I'll try not to."
Alan grabbed her hair and pulled her against him. "You'll not try, you'll do it You won't come unless I tell you to do you understand me." He twisted her hair and grabbed her slick pussy. He stroked her cunt hard, found her clit, and squeezed it between his fingers.
"You're so close aren't you slut? So close to coming right now, just the thought of my tongue fucking your pussy would be enough to make you come wouldn't it?" he growled into her ear as he pushed a finger between the slick folds of her sex.
Carol whimpered, not from pain, the stinging in her scalp from the initial pull on her head was long gone and replaced by want. "Yes Sir," she whimpered. "I'll not come unless you tell me," she gasped out.
"Good." Alan released her hair and her sex. He shook inside, his blood boiling, and when she whimpered he knew it was because he'd stopped touching her. He watched her return to the task at hand and free the final button from his shirt. Her fingers moved the fabric away from his body and it fell to the floor. Alan stood in front of her as naked as she was and he allowed her to drink him in.
Her blue eyes moved over his strong shoulders, his full chest, and the small pouch of excess weight on his stomach. The small pouch was slowly disappearing from the workouts at the gym where they'd met. She didn't care; she saw only him. Alan was a man that also let himself open for her inspection. Carol wasn't stupid, she knew that men had issues just like women and now her lover was giving her another gift, whether he knew it or not. He was giving her . . . him.
She smiled as she looked over what he would call imperfections. Small scars cris-crossed his legs and she moved around him. She noticed his ass showing signs of tightening the once flabby muscles. His back showed hard muscles newly formed from the vigorous weights he lifted every few days. She finished her inspection of her Master and returned to face him. "Thank you," she said.