I Imagine It, AgainbyRazeByFire©
Did I mention that Akayla is a stripper. No, I suppose not. I mean, where else would a man meet a beautiful woman who enjoys talking about sex. And she does enjoy talking about it. At least I think so. I mean, it is a strip club. Not a place known as the epitome of truth. But still, I think she... dotes on me I guess. Even though we are the same age, I think she and I both know that she is older in life experience. She has two other friends who work there and we all seem to have a good time.
They are totally straight, strangely enough. I go in the early afternoon so I have avoided the bitch night girls who won't give you the time of day unless it's for a dance. Which is not to say that I don't spend money there. But I go more for the conversation. The chance to speak to attractive Fully Nude women and make intelligent conversation. Not at the same time. They dance nude, and then I can talk to them. Boy, sidetracked much. Anyway, my problem just won't go away, or maybe I just won't let it go. I mean, it's exciting to think about. Here are some more of my random imaginings.
I want to ask her if they are kinky much. And what kind of kinks they are into. This is one scenario I have imagined.
PS- I am aware of some continuity errors between this story and the last. Blame it on inexperience and enjoy the show. Also, this one is a little short on the sex. The next part, however, shouldn't be. If I receive some positive feedback I will continue this one. Oh, who am I kidding, even if I don't I will write more. Just FEED ME!
* * * * *
Two weeks after my first Real time with Lisa and I am still amazed at how good it is between us. My roommate-Priscilla, has commented on my 'glowing' and pestered me for his-or her- name. She's straight, but more than a little curious I think. I don't push too much, she's just too good a roommate to try anything with and then have it be awkward between us. Just the occasional glance or slap on her ass. So I tell her a few details about Lisa. Usually I am much more forthcoming, but this is my first woman, and somehow I don't want to... cheapen it.
The phone rings, interrupting my attempts to weasel out of the conversation. Thankful for the rescue, I answer in my sweetest voice.
'Hey, it's me.'
I blush and Pris notices immediately. She is making the usual obnoxious and hysterical silent gestures.
'Lisa. I was just talking about you.'
'Nothing good I hope.' Mischief is evident in her voice and it sends a litle thrill up my spine and another a little lower.
'Just gossipping to Pris,' I then add a little loudly, 'Who is being very annoying!' She makes cat claws and hisses before getting the hint and leaving me alone.
'What were you calling about?'
'I was calling to invite you to dinner.' There is a pregnant pause here. 'At my place.'
This was quite unexpected. I mean, every time we have been together we have been at her house. Because I was too drunk to get back here. Then we had our pattern- Get in the house, clumsily remove our clothes and, well, screw each other silly. Then I would pass out. Then I would wake up a few hours before I had to work and take a shower, put the same clothes on and call a cab to go home. Did I mention my car was impounded for DWI? It was my first, but I was underage. These weeks since what I refer to in my head as 'The First Time' have differed only in that I am only a slight bit tipsy when I go home with her, sometimes not at all. This would be the first time she had ever actually invited me over. And if I am not mistaken, not just for dinner.
Not hearing a response, she starts to back out. 'I would understand if you said no, if you think it's too soon.'
I scramble to reassure her. 'No, no. That's not it. It's just that this would be another first for me. The first time I ever went to a woman's apartment for, ah, dinner. But I would love to.'
'Oh, I see. Well, can I pick you up at seven?'
It's just after 5:00 now. 'Sure. Um, should I, ah, bring anything?' Nothing like a lack of confidence to bring out the best in me.
Her small, throaty laugh gives me another shiver. 'If you like.'
We chat for another few minutes and hang up. Just as I do I spy Pris scampering off to appear as though she had not listened to our entire conversation.
She pesters, I resist. She continues as I start getting ready. Finally I break down and tell her. She is excited for me, I think. She finally asks- "So, are you going to stay over?"
Hesitantly, I answer- "I think so."
"Wow, that's great."
"You going to help me or what?"
After a whirlwind of showering, primping, styling and trying three different dresses I am finally ready about ten minutes before 7:00. Lisa is right on time, the bell ringing at precisely seven. I give Pris a warning finger and answer the door.
Lisa is stunning. Her green eyes sparkle with amusement as I stutter 'Hello' and step aside after a few awkward staring moments. She is making introductions to Pris as I gather myself. Pris is actually behaving. Lisa's ankle length dress is simple, flowing black satin. Two gold studs adorn each ear and a simple chain with a locket is around her graceful neck. Her neck, apparently she applied a little makeup , I observe as I remember my lips there. I am so glad that I dressed appropriately. My dress is simple as well, but it is a soft brown velvet. I am not wearing heels, but she is. Being slightly shorter than me, her heels now bring her to just my height.
"Ready?," she asks. Oh yes, I am ready. Ready right now. Wearing only pull-up stockings with no panties, I am quite aware of just how ready I am.
Not trusting my voice, I nod. As we leave I almost forget the small bag I packed sitting beside the door. Pris peeks her head out just before closing the door- "Have fun Akayla!"
I blush and turn to see Lisa smile.
Yes, I am so ready.
I am a bundle of nerves as we get to her car, a Mustang convertible. I love it, especially on cool nights with the top down. I insist we take it down most nights, but she has already done so. That explains why her hair is braided. And I had hoped that she would have the top down, so my hair is pinned up, showing off my neck, where I have chosen to NOT cover her love bites.
The drive to her home is unusually long, and as I turn to ask what is going on, I notice my wringing hands and understand why. I am nervous and she is driving until I can calm myself. I reach over and put my hand over hers, squeezing it. She smiles and I take a deep breath and release it. We enjoy the drive for a few more minutes before coming to her complex.
She again smiles that reassuring smile that tugs at my heart so easily and I sling my bag over my shoulder and accompany her to her abode.
Resourceful and organized, Lisa has already done most of the cooking, allowing the food to keep warm in the oven. The small dinner table is set with candles and simple silverware. I take a few minutes to look around as she goes to the kitchen to fetch the entree, The stereo startles me a bit as she starts a CD with the remote. I don't recognize the music, but it is light and moving, prompting one to hum along. As I examine her sizable collection of pewter figurines she has finished in the kitchen.
"Shall we?", she asks.
"We shall", I reply playfully.
Dinner is fun. She is entertaining; full of laughter and joy, attentive and undemanding. I wonder if that was what attracted me to her in my usual drunken state. She cooked a great vegetarian lasagna. Or at least I thought she did. As we were having dessert, she confessed to me that she had had picked it up from her favorite Italian place. But she added- "I did make the cheesecake."
There is an awkward moment as we dawdle over dessert. I am a bit confused about what was going to happen next. But she surprises me again, asking me to dance with her. She has cleared a space on her living room, not much, but enough for two people to hold each other close and dance.
I've only had a glass of wine, followed by coffee, and yet I feel drunk. My head is swimming as she holds me close and I can breathe her perfume. I feel like I am floating. And when I stare into her eyes I feel like I am drowning, but I don't struggle. She catches me staring and I gave a nervous smile. She laughs that soft, amused laugh, not mocking, just amused. She strokes my cheek and I lean into her hand and sigh. We are closer now, as close as we can be standing with clothes on. Her hand strokes my back and neck slowly as my head seeks her shoulder. So good and warm.
I surprise my self as I press my lips to her collar, placing little butterfly nips along its length. She hums her approval. I intend her ear to be my next victim, but she moves, intercepting my lips with her own. I can taste the wine on her lips and my tongue forages out to collect more of this wonderful taste, my lover and wine. Our tongues meet lightly at our lips, touching like old friends deep in conversation. I moan and tighten my embrace, eager for more, but she pulls back.
"I thought this was new for you."
I meet her eyes. "It is."
Another kiss interrupts her response, this one deeper, more passionate. My attempt to convey my need for her. My lips roam as do hers, to her chin, her cheek, to seek her sensitive neck. But, unlike a romance novel or movie, real life rears it's ugly head. I had forgotten the makeup she used to cover the marks of my enthusiasm. It does not taste as sweet as my lover and I am unable to suppress my reaction.
"Uggh," I exclaim as I sputter to clear the taste from my mouth.
"Hmm, what is it?," Lisa asks. Then she realizes- "Ohh. Well, this was not what I had in mind for a seduction."
We both laugh as we part reluctantly, our mood dampened but not extinguished. I can still see the fire in her eyes, as she can in mine.
"Well, I may as well clear the table now."
"I'll help. But first, I kind of have to, uhh, you know."
"Go ahead, you can help wash."
After taking care of the immediate problem, I look at myself in the mirror. My nipples, unrestrained by a bra, are easily seen, as is the flush in my neck and chest. I cannot resist touching the swollen lips of my sex, reveling in the wetness there.
It would be so easy to drive my self to a quick climax right now, I am so turned on that it would only take a few strokes on my erect button. But I somehow manage to resist and am returning my dress to its rightful position when Lisa knocks on the door. I let out a small squeak and rush to open it.
Damn, how does she manage to make me feel like a small child caught doing something I shouldn't. Probably because I was. Her eyes sweep over me as I stand in the door and I blush until I see her smile.
"What took so long? Were you being a naughty girl?"
God, that smile. It strikes me speechless at the most inopportune times. I shake my head 'No', fighting the urge to nibble my fingers as they almost fly to my mouth.
"I think you were. I think a naughty girl was touching herself while I was waiting for her to come help me with the dishes."
I shake my head again, enjoying this entirely new sensation.
"Give me your fingers," she sternly commands.
I move them behind my back.
She sets her jaw- "Now."
Her voice shocks me into submission and I guiltily extend my hands as I feel myself start to become aroused even further. She eyes them thoroughly.
"Well, it looks as though I was wrong."
I lower my hands with a relieved sigh, confused about my reaction. But it is not over.
"But looks can be deceiving. Give me your hands."
My hands fly to hers almost with a will of their own. I wonder what she is doing, what is going on, what she is going to do to me? And as she raises my hand to her mouth, I know. I know what she is doing. The only question is if I will allow her, and myself, to play it out.
Her tongue is on my fingers, raspy and warm. Her eyebrows raise in appreciation as she tastes me, but her mouth moves on to each finger in turn as her eyes appraise my reaction. I can feel my breathing increasing and my heart beginning to speed my warming blood through me.
She pulls me close as she intensely whispers- "Is this alright? Do you want this? We can still have some other kind of fun, but if you feel comfortable enough with me we can explore this. I can see that you are turned on. Do you want to stop?"
I swallow, taking a breath before I answer. "Yes, I want this, but I've never..."
"I'll go slow. Anytime you need to say something outside this, whisper 'Renee' and I will listen. Ok?"
"My middle name."
"I'm not sure how... intense I want this. I have to work..."
"First rule then- No marks that will last. Do you want to be spanked?"
I only nod, ashamed to admit to it. She raises my chin, leveling my eyes to her own- "Hey none of that. I like to be spanked as well. And many other things. We'll find out together what you like. Now, I have a paddle. I know that you like a little roughness with your nipples. Do you think you would like clamps on them?"
The image captures my imagination and I gasp, nodding quickly. With a little laugh she continues.
"I don't have a lot of bondage equipment, so if you want to try that, we will have to wait. I do have some handcuffs..."
I shake my head. I don't like the sudden feeling I got when she mentioned them.
"Ok, how about I tie you up with some stockings? Not too tight or restraining."
I nod again.
"Would you like a collar?"
"No. I don't know why but it doesn't seem right for me."
"Hmm, maybe you are more turned on by submitting than by being dominated. Ok, no collar. I don't want to gag you, I like your moans and you couldn't very well tell me anything if you couldn't speak. I may use my panties for a short time. Ok?"
"Is there anything you have heard of that you might like to try, or something I have left out. I promise you aren't going to shock me. I have quite a few kinks of my own."
"Well, calling me a naughty little girl is ok, but I don't like being verbally degraded." She nods and I continue. "I like to be touched, all over."
"Be more specific." Her voice is raised a little beyond a whisper, like she is between where she was and what I want her to be. "I like..." I stop, embarrassed at the thought.
She seeks my eyes out again. "It's ok, you can tell me."
"I like to have my ass played with." I say in a tiny voice.
"Ok. That wasn't so hard was it. This may surprise you bit, but I like a little something there too."
"So we will be two little anal sluts then. Anything else."
Knowing now that she really won't be adverse to my suggestions I tell ask for one more thing.
She laughs. "Oh, yes, I think that you and I are just right for each other. Do you think you could do this for me sometime?"
I reply without hesitation. "If you think you can handle it."
"Ok, time for Miss Bitch again. But first give me a kiss." And we did kiss. A great kiss. I think she was trying to reassure me, trying to give me enough of her love so that I will not doubt her, no matter what happens in the next few hours. If she was, it worked.
She straightened up, her eyes narrow, and her voice cracks like a whip as she addresses me- "Well, naughty little girl, you will have to be punished. Now, go into the bedroom and remove you clothes, except for your stockings. I expect you to be standing at the foot of the bed when I come in. You are not to touch yourself, no matter how long I take. You are not to look up at me until I address you as either a naughty little girl or naughty slut. Do you understand?"
I nod, keeping my eyes to the floor.
"I can't hear you, little girl. Look at me and speak up."
"Yes ma'am. I understand."
"Good, now go."
So I went. I slid the straps of my dress off, stepped out of my shoes, and removed my earrings. The dress I hung on a hanger and hung behind the bedroom door, which I hope meets Lisa's approval. Oh, how did I agree to this? A few of my boyfriends tried it, but I never really got into it. Why with Lisa? Why did I tell her that one thing that I had never managed to tell any other lover. I like having my ass played with. Understatement. And I think she understood that it was. Whenever a boyfriend suggested anal sex I thought I would faint from excitement. But I never let on, never let them know how much I loved their hard cock up my ass. Unless they brought it up, it never happened. I feared that they might think I was perverted if they knew. But with Lisa, I just trusted. And now I am going to be rewarded. And punished. I'm not scared, I know she won't REALLY hurt me. But not knowing what she WILL do, that's exciting.
That's why am standing here trying very hard not to touch myself. It seems like I have been standing forever. I can hear clanking in the kitchen. She must have used the other door to leave the bathroom and started the dishes. I can't believe that she's doing the dishes NOW, when she knows that I am ready and willing in her bedroom. Or maybe that is the point. She wants me to wait, to let my imagination run wild. It is then that I wonder if she really wanted me to not touch myself. Maybe she said it so she would have to punish me if she found me doing it when she returned. Not the most logical argument, but my brain was not too much a part of that line of reasoning. I decide that it doesn't matter if I do or not, she will punish me anyway. So I do. And, of course, she walks in the moment I start.
She stands framed by the door, hands on her hips, her mouth a stern, disapproving line. But her eyes are smiling. She DID want me to be touching myself. But I am still embarrassed to be caught again.
"Well, my naughty little slut just couldn't wait. Hmm, how shall I punish you.?"
A rhetorical question, I have to fight the urge to yell out 'Spank me. Hard.' Instead I duck my head and put my restless hands to the side.
Her sharp voice commands- "No. Keep going. Play with yourself while I get the toys I will use to punish you."
I falter and she follows up with a strict- "Now!"
Ohh, I am such a bad girl. I am so turned on. I have masturbated for a lover before, and I am a stripper, so I'm not shy. But now I am mired in apprehension, my limbs move like they are trapped in amber.
I start on my back, my legs spread slightly, hanging off the bed. My right hand caresses my sex as my left pinches my nipples and stretches them. I am wet enough to put my fingers inside, but I like to hold out for as long as I can. My eyes are closed as I hear her moving about the room, and my imagination attempts to fill in all the delightful details of what will happen in the next few hours. Then her voice is in my ear, urgently whispering- "When I tell you, I want you to get up on the bed, on your hands and knees. And keep playing with yourself. But you are not to cum until I start spanking you."
Ohh God. That sounds so good. I moan a response.
"You like that idea, hmm. Well, you will like this as well." Her lips are on my breasts as her fingers replace my own. I feel her mouth on my nipples, her teeth on them, biting and nipping. I arch my back and moan again. Just these few seconds have brought me near the edge and my nimble fingers quicken on my button.
"No Akyla. Not yet. Slow down."
I do, and she coos her approval. My breath is quite quick still , though I am not yet gasping for breath.
"Slower. I don't want you to cum when I put these on. Keep your eyes closed."
How did she do that? She just knew that I wanted to see. What is she going to do?
Then I feel them. The clamps sting first my left nipple, then my right as I almost scream at the burning tightness. I freeze then, struggling not to cum, to obey her, my hands have stopped completely, clenched in to fists and beating my thighs. But somehow I manage not to cum and she then tells me to get on my hands and knees.