Intimate (3 page)

I told Steffie to imagine she was being watched by other men. I told her to visualize herself on her hands and knees in the middle of a spot-lit stage. Gathered around her in the smoke-filled shadows were strangers – other men – their eyes hungrily watching her, growling their appreciation for the beauty of her.

Steffie’s breathing became sharper – more urgent, and she began to rock back on my cock,
using me for her pleasure
. Suddenly the whole dynamic had changed. I had found a secret key to her personality, and by turning that key I had hit upon the touchstone that elevated the sex we were sharing into something profoundly erotic.

Steffie wanted those men in her imagination to desire her. She wanted each of the strangers she was visualizing behind her closed eyes to be overcome with lust. She wanted them to see her cum.

Her movements became more frantic, more urgent and our bodies crashed together like we were racing towards the peak of a mountain top. Beads of sweat squeezed out across my brow and ran in rivulets down my chest. Steffie’s body glistened with the satin sheen of her perspiration. Suddenly the breath was seizing in my throat and Steffie began to twist her hips. I let go of her hair and she tossed her head from side to side. We were rocking together like two people in a small boat on a raging sea. Steffie cried out and it was the sound of her release – a raw primeval sound without any coherent form; the sound of her plunging into the abyss.

I came an instant later, my own orgasm seemingly wrenched from me by the frantic convulsing grip of Steffie’s pussy.  I threw my head back, saw the ceiling sway and blur. Sweat stung my eyes and at last the breath I had been holding was torn from me in a sound like a growl… 

That was the nature of our relationship in those early days Steffie and I shared together – more playfulness than serious BDSM lifestyle. In fact, it was as much about exploring each other’s minds and desires than it was about dominance and submission. Those other aspects developed over time as Steffie’s confidence and trust grew, and as her inhibitions were tenderly and thoughtfully explored and then peeled away.

I learned a lot from that relationship – and not all that I learned had anything to do with the art of being a Master. Much of it was about learning to be a man.

I learned about the importance of foreplay for a woman – the need to build a sense of desire through anticipation… and I learned about the value of exploring fantasy.

The key to releasing a woman’s sexuality is to understand her secret fantasies
.

I actually wrote that line down on a scrap of paper several years ago and put it in a desk drawer. I found the note today, the page a little dog-eared, the paper now faded. I read it again before I came to visit you tonight because I have been thinking about you.

A lot…

I can’t say the relationship with Steffie ended too soon because it didn’t, in hindsight. It ended at the exact right time. For me, I was soon to meet another young lady, someone thrilling and spectacular, and for Steffie… well I honestly don’t know. I never saw her again but when we parted she said she was happy. I hope she is today…

But the memory of her still haunts me…

* * *

Look, I need to say something to you because I promised when I arrived that we would be honest with each other, right?

Well something’s bothering me, and I feel you and I need to talk this through.

Here’s my problem.

I still feel like you’re looking at me like I’m Jason Luke the author.

I’m not. Not tonight. Not here with you.

Tonight I’m just a guy, and that’s how I need you to think of me. Strip everything else away – the author profile and all the social media – and what remains is just a guy.

And you’re a woman. We ought to be able to connect, and I want something deeper from this – and I want the same thing for you. We’re both searching for something, right? I know I am. I still haven’t found what I’m looking for, but I know what it is – I know what I want.

Refuge. Harmony.

Solace.

Respite – from the demons of my guilt; the flail of remorse that still stings when I recall the women I have hurt throughout the meandering course of my life because I was too young, too self-centered… too arrogant.

I’m not perfect and I’m not Jason Luke. Not twenty-four-seven.

Not tonight.

With you I just want to be me, and I want you to be the real you. Just give that much of yourself – even if it’s for these few hours.

Okay?

Maybe you’re searching for something too – some emotional or sensual fulfillment. Maybe that’s why you invited me into your home. Perhaps it goes deeper than just the whim of erotic entertainment. Maybe we’re searching for the same thing, coming at the issue from opposite directions; me as a writer and you as a reader. But we have common ground – we’re people. Tomorrow we’ll be alone again. You’ll go your way and pick up another book. I’ll begin writing again…

But tonight we can, between us, make a little magic; a firework of happiness in a dark, dark sky. That’s got to be worth the effort, right?

Come on, there’s other stories I want to share with you.

Are you ready for more?

I want to tell you about Emily.

* * *

Okay, I promised you another story about a woman named Emily, and I’ll get to that in a moment. But first I want to ask you something.

What turns you on?

I’ve been watching you since I arrived, and the enigma of you enthralls me. I know women like to remain a little mysterious, but I simply cannot work you out.

I’ve come here to your secret place and all I have to seduce you with is my words. Somehow I think you’re the kind of woman that needs more.

I don’t imagine the fakery of flirtation would touch you. The whole superficial charade falls away too quickly to leave a profound effect.

No.

It would need something more.

How would Jason Luke seduce you?

We’d dance.

That’s right. In your bedroom, or maybe in the living room; just you and I alone, with no one watching.

I’d find a radio station that plays old songs from the ‘80’s and we’d slow dance together to old songs by the Rolling Stones so I could touch you, hold you and move against you. Then, when the music stopped, your face would be flushed, your heart tripping in your chest and your eyes glittering like gemstones.

I’d step close – slam shut the space between us and gaze into your eyes.

Can you imagine that? Can you picture the moment between us when we’re standing, touching and our mouths are just inches apart?

It’s all I can think about.

Everything would teeter for an instant. Would you draw away? Would your eyes become hectic?

Would you need me to take control?

I would. I couldn’t help myself. My instinct would be to reach out confidently to cup your cheek in the palm of my hand. Suddenly time would stand still. I’d place my other hand over your heart to feel what you feel – and then I’d kiss you.

Properly.

Slowly. Very slowly.

For a very long time.
Until we both saw stars.

* * *

Emily and I were friends and work colleagues before we became lovers. She was younger than me, and one of the most dazzling feminine contradictions I have ever encountered. In the work environment she was pleasant, professional and demure. But in private – Emily was a vivacious vixen: a bona fide nymphomaniac.

She was petite. Side by side she barely reached my shoulder. She had a slim waif-like figure that meant to most men she might have appeared quite unremarkable.

But to me, there was something wickedly arousing about her. It was the way she wore her jeans, the way she moved her hips when she walked and the bold, almost brazen way she made eye contact, like every time we spoke she was daring me to kiss her.

When we did eventually get together, it was at a work event – a presentation night hosted by one of the company’s supplier clients. There were hundreds of people from competitor businesses across the city in attendance. Emily sat next to me and when the lights were dimmed in the auditorium and a video presentation began playing on the giant screen, I felt her body sway against mine, connecting us in the gloom from her hip all the way up to her shoulder. I sat quite still while my mind raced to consider the implications. Emily was incredibly sexy.

I wanted her.

Her hand slipped beneath the table, and then I felt her fingers drop into my lap. She was looking away, staring with rapt fascination at the big screen. Her touch crawled over my thigh and then came back higher until she was kneading my erection with her tiny hands through the tented denim of my jeans.

I leaned forward and propped my elbows on the table, resting my chin atop my clenched hands. There were a dozen other people around us, the table littered with empty plates. Waitresses were gliding around the room like ethereal ghosts, cleaning up after the dessert had been served. I stared at a middle-aged lady from a competitor store. She was sitting directly across from me. She must have sensed that I was watching her. She drew her attention away from the screen and flashed me a friendly smile. Then she saw Emily close against me and her intuition must have been aroused. Maybe there was some telltale sign in my face, or maybe she saw something in the way Emily’s shoulder was moving. Her gaze turned into a glare – and then the lights came back on.

Emily removed her hand and sat up straight in her chair, casual and unhurried. The two women exchanged glances and something distinctly feminine and beyond my understanding passed between them. Emily’s eyes flashed and then she turned to me and stared close into my face, her lips parted and glossy and her cheeks flushed.

“Let’s go back to my place,”
she told me.

Emily rented an apartment just ten minutes from where we worked. The downstairs was a kitchen and living space. Upstairs were a couple of bedrooms and a compact bathroom.

We made it as far as the foyer.

She had been pensive and withdrawn in the drive back to her home. Now, suddenly, she was ravenous. She brushed against me like a sleek cat in the doorway and then pushed the door closed with her hip and threw herself into my arms. We kissed fiercely, breathless. My hands went to her ass as her arms locked around my neck.

We stumbled as far as the sofa and spent the rest of the evening on the carpeted floor, peeling away each other’s clothes and making small murmured sounds of delight. Emily’s kisses were like fire, the swirl of her tongue within my mouth wet and moist and alive.

I rolled her onto her back and unbuttoned her blouse. She lay with her legs apart unbuckling and unzipping her own jeans. I took one of her nipples into my mouth and she hissed through her teeth and then arched her back. I felt her hands entwine into the hair at the nape of my neck, clutching me to her while my free hand glided down across her belly and within the elastic of her lace panties.

Now that we were locked together, Emily seemed a willing passive partner. She groaned when the tips of my fingers brushed against the hard nub of her clit and then she groaned more deeply as my touch became more insistent, more demanding.

I let her nipple slip from my lips and lay on my side with my elbow propped beneath me. I studied Emily’s face.

Her eyes were screwed tightly shut, her brow crinkled into a little furrow of concentration. There was heat and color rising on her cheeks and her mouth was open, her lipstick smudged by our kisses. My palm between her spread legs was pressing against her clit and I watched the changing play of her features and emotions as her arousal slowly grew, like rising music towards a crescendo. I felt the slick warm wetness of her in a rush and then two of my fingers slipped inside her pussy.

She was wearing red lace panties and my knuckles were tight bulges inside the sheer fabric, moving and manipulating as though I were fine tuning a beautiful instrument. For an instant Emily’s eyes fluttered open. She gazed at me and her eyes were dreamy. Her mouth became a cunning, secret smile, and then changed again into a perfect ‘O’ as I filled her clenching pussy with another finger.

I kissed her again, this time more deliberately, in complete control. She was at my willing whim, and there was plenty I wanted from her.

The kiss lasted a long time and when we broke apart, both panting, I told Emily that for the night she was my submissive. I told her I expected her complete unquestioning obedience.

She nodded her head, suddenly solemn. I told her to get undressed.

I wanted her naked.

I led Emily into her kitchen. Nested around a wooden table were four chairs and a wall covered by vertical drapes. I asked Emily what was behind the drapes and she told me it was a set of sliding glass doors with a view through her neighbor’s living room window.

I set a chair facing the drapes and ordered Emily to sit with her legs wide apart. I told her to pleasure herself. I wanted to watch her cum. Emily nodded and gnawed at her lip. Her right hand dipped spontaneously to the shaved mound of her pussy, and then she touched herself with several slow lingering caresses before pressing against her clit with her fingertips. I stood and watched her for several moments – and then drew the vertical blinds open.