I found “Tall ’n’ Lean #3” in a karate class. I’d signed up because I wanted to be able to protect myself and because I figured the boys there would be more disciplined. He was beautiful, his sweat smelled good, he was a black belt and he was older than me. I waited for him in the parking lot after class. I had decided to be direct.
“Would you like me to fuck you?”
He didn’t look stunned, offended or even pleased, just curious. “Are you sure you mean it that way around? Most girls want me to fuck them.”
“I’m very sure.”
He eyes licked slowly over my body. Then he smiled. “OK,” he said, like he was agreeing to grab a pizza, “but I have a question.”
“Yes?”
“What’s your name?”
I blushed at that. It hadn’t occurred to me that while I’d been noticing the muscles in his forearm and the tight curve of his butt, all he’d been paying attention to was his karate technique.
My parents were away on one of their pagan weekends. Sex was the bedrock of their marriage; you only had to look at the two of them together to see that. The pagan weekends gave them the opportunity to concentrate on fucking each other’s brains out without worrying about making a noise.
I’d decided to have a mini pagan weekend of my own. I brought Tall ’n’ Lean #3” back to my house. I was more than a little nervous. He didn’t touch me or hassle me but there was a confidence behind his eyes that was unsettling. I took him into my dad’s den and gave him the speech I’d rehearsed.
“OK, here are the rules. I want to fuck you. I want you to do what I tell you while I fuck you. If you don’t do what I tell you, the fucking will stop. Do you understand?”
It was supposed to be my first step to establishing mastery over him. He sat on the edge of my dad’s desk, like he had a right to be there, and said, “That speech would work better if you said, ‘I am going to fuck you. You will do what I want.’ You have to sound like you mean it.”
He slipped off the desk and onto his knees in front of me without breaking eye contact. “Tell me how to serve you, Mistress.”
In theory this was just what I wanted. But he was laughing at me. It was gentle laughter, but laughter all the same.
“Shit,” I said.
For a second he looked surprised. He thought I was giving an instruction.
“I so wanted to tie you to my dad’s chair and tease you and fuck you. But it’s not going to work, is it?”
He stood up, lifting me like I weighed nothing at all and placed me on Dad’s desk. I felt a little bit of panic and a lot of excitement.
“Your dad’s chair? How old are you, Helen? No. Don’t answer that. You’re a pretty girl, Helen, and a brave one. You know what you want but you don’t yet know how to recognize who can give it to you.”
I’d known he was a little older than me but I hadn’t expected him to talk to me like I was a child. Who did he think he was, my camp counsellor?
“Well, why did you come here, then?” My eyes were hot with embarrassment.
“You sounded convincing in the parking lot. And I don’t mind switching from time to time.”
“Switching?”
“I’m a dom, Helen. I normally do the tying up.”
“You think I’m stupid, don’t you?”
“No. But I think you need to learn to recognize a sub when you meet one.”
Then he kissed me. It was a slow kiss, passionate but friendly. It made me wonder what it would be like to be tied up by him. To let him do whatever he wanted. Then he wasn’t kissing me any more. “Gotta go, Helen. My name is Jon, by the way. I’ll see you at karate next week.”
I picked up a book from the desk and threw it, but it only hit the door closing behind him. I was mad at Jon for the rest of the day. Then I started to think about how things might have gone wrong: about the risks that I’d taken; about how gentle he’d been. Gentle and strong. I could see why women would let him tie them.
Jon and I became friends but not lovers. He gave me things to read and told me about his life. I left the “Tall ’n’ Leans” alone for a while and concentrated on getting to college. I’d got through two more “Tall ’n’ Leans” in college before I met Peter, both of them one-nightstands, both of them left me feeling hungry and somehow cheated.
My head is feeling better so I check my watch. Somehow it has reached 10 p.m. I’ve missed Thanksgiving and they’ve all forgotten about me. I hug my sense of hurt to me tightly. It serves me right that I’ve been abandoned. You see, I made a mistake. Such a big mistake. I gave Peter away to my best friend. I was so sure of him you see. So certain that I was what he wanted. I thought I could lend him out. Share him with a friend.
It started out OK. Barbara was sad and needed comfort so I tied Peter and blindfolded him and then I shared him with her. It was fun. It felt human and loving. I was so proud of all of us. But the thing is, I get jealous. Just the way my mother does. I hate myself for it but I can’t help it.
I’d invited Barbara to stay with us, to join the Peter and Helen household. I knew they liked each other but I was too vain to think it through. And then I saw how Peter looked at her. How he wanted her. It was my doing, not his. Peter followed my lead, trusting me to do the right thing, and I gave him away.
Except Barbara gave him back. Barbara gave him back. I don’t know if he’d have come back on his own.
I must still be a little drunk. I’ve spent months carefully not thinking about this and now I’m crying into my pillow afraid that Peter hasn’t really come back to me.
You see, I know that I’m not worthy of Peter. I’m not really the person he deserves. For weeks now I’ve been watching him, wondering if I’m living in a charade; whether Peter would rather be with Barbara but is just too nice to leave me. Maybe my mother was right to put him on the other side of the house.
“Helen?”
Peter is standing over me. I didn’t even hear him come in. I sit up on the bed, conscious of how red my eyes must be and how strongly I must smell of drink. I want to get up and hug him but I can’t make myself move.
Peter has brought the toy bag with him. I didn’t even know he’d packed it. Shit, he’s brought the toy bag to my parents’ house.
He places the toy bag on the bed beside me. Normally I choose the toys, but this time it is Peter who opens the bag. He takes out the strap-on. It’s a complicated affair. The strap that goes between my legs will push a dildo and a butt plug into me and leave a long thin curved black latex cock jutting out from my belly.
“I’d like you to use this. I want us to make some noise.”
Peter wants me to fuck him and he wants everyone to know it’s happening. Joy spreads through me like liquid sunlight. Peter wants me.
He’s been watching me figure it out. When he sees my smile start, he kisses me. I am Sleeping Beauty being brought back to life. Except I’m going to reward my prince by reaming his ass as hard as I can.
I take the strap-on from him. “Strip, Peter,” I say.
He sheds his clothes calmly but quickly. He is already hard. I make him wait while I shrug out of my clothes, then I stand with one leg on the bed and tell him to tool me up. I mean to sound stern but I can’t keep the joy out of my voice.
Then it starts for real. Peter lubes me slowly and thoroughly and straps me tight. With both holes full and a strong black cock thrusting in front of me, I feel powerful and as randy as hell.