She asks, in the softest whisper, “Are you sure we’re going to do this?”
He laughs then and his laugh is not nice. The callous sound of it reduces her to an awkward schoolgirl. She looks down embarrassed, her body language pulling in, wilting.
“Are you afraid?” He asks. He grasps her neck and the grasp is strong and confident but it is not threatening; nearly parental. She flinches then, teeth biting lip. There is a sudden wetness between her legs and her face flushes hot, red.
“There’s a safety word,” he whispers leaning into her, his hot breath burning on her ear, “The safety word is…”
He pulls away suddenly, casting an appraising stare.
“Do we need a safety word? Do you?”
She stares at the ground and murmurs in the affirmative; slowly nodding: one, two, three. He grabs her neck more firmly and forces her closer. She offers only token resistance.
He pushes his hand beneath her skirt, forcing it between her clamped thighs and his fingers push over her panties, hooking into the soft fold of wet cotton and pussy. He presses into it and circles his fingertips slowly and firmly. She sighs heavily, punctuating it with the softest Oh…
“Fail,” he says, “The safety word is Fail.
“If you feel like this is too much or if some line has been crossed … or you are too afraid to go on, you say this word and it all stops.”
She nods, understanding.
“I am going to make you do things,” he says, pushing her skirt to her waist. His other hand slides her panties to the side; fingers prodding and probing her exposed slicked lips, twiddling her inflamed clit. “Things that you didn’t think you could do. Things you didn’t think you would want to do.
“But everyone has a line, a point they can’t cross.”
He slides a finger inside her and she moans shyly, grabbing his wrist in weak protest.
“You get that this is going to change everything?”
His finger moves faster and her breathing quickens, each exhale cut short with a muted gasp.
“It changes you and it changes me; our contexts, our boundaries, our everything. And once we go there, we can’t ever come back.”
He studies her face. It flickers between pleasure and apprehension as she fights to suppress both. He pushes his finger deeper, pulling it faster, massaging her clit with his thumb. She tightens her grasp on his wrist but does not try to stop him.
“Are you ready for this?”
She says nothing.
May 30, 2009, 8:55pm Comments
