I know part of my reason for not asking sooner was a ridiculous fear of rejection. Not because I don’t have the spine to handle being told no. I’ve heard no before. Plenty. I simply didn’t want to hear it from Cindy. And I believed if I did my due diligence and put in my time, when the opportunity presented itself, she would not turn me down.
I was right. God bless her inept abilities in the field of calculus.
And now, I’ve dominated her, and it rocked my foundation. I’ve had my fingers inside her tight cunt. Heaven. When she came around my hand… Jesus.
It takes forever for her to respond. I’ve nearly given up hope. And then finally.
Okay, Sir.
There is a god.
Now I just have to get through twenty-four hours without seeing her or talking to her. I won’t text or call. She doesn’t need pressure. I feel like I’ve won the lottery though. I know I have.
Chapter 6
Cindy
Thongs are not something I have in abundance. I wear them sometimes. When the mood strikes or when I think I might be in a situation where someone might actually see me without my pants. What a joke. That hasn’t happened in years. Except for the gynecologist, and she doesn’t know or care about my underwear. It’s safely folded between my jeans by the time she enters the exam room.
I shake the absurd thought from my head. The point is that I’ve purchased five new pairs today. I marched myself into the department store, picked out several lacy pairs that I assumed men would find attractive, and I’m wearing a hot pink pair with a matching hot pink bra tonight.
I usually wear a tank top with my jeans at the club. I have several with the Surrender logo on the front. Today I’m boldly wearing a black tank with a hot pink Surrender logo and a hot pink bra. Silly. Whatever.
I’m rewarded though because when Master Hudson enters a little after eleven, he leans over the counter, kisses me behind the ear, and whispers, “Please tell me your panties match that bra.”
I flush a dark shade of red and giggle.
He smirks as he leaves me working the front without another word.
It’s hot. His voice lingers in my mind. The entire ten seconds linger. The way his lips felt on my neck. The gravelly tone of his voice. The fact that he didn’t say another word.
He never does that. He always stays for a while when he comes into the club, talking to me, asking about my day, listening to my stories about puppies and kittens, and whatever else I choose to reveal. In fact, I can’t remember the last time he breezed by me as quickly as he did tonight.
I don’t see him again until Leah pops back out from inside the club. “Hey.” She smiles broadly. “I’m your relief. Have a great time.” She hops up onto the stool I keep behind the counter as I step out from behind.
I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do next. I don’t even know where Master Hudson is. “Thank you,” I tell her.
She waves me off. “Anytime.”
I take a deep breath and enter the main room. As I scan the space, my eyes adjusting to the dim lighting, a hand lands on my back and smooths around to my belly.
I smile, recognizing Master Hudson’s scent and his touch. And then his lips are on my neck again. “Ready to play?”
I nod. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good. I reserved another private room.”
I’m relieved. I’m intrigued by all of this, but I’m not ready to take my pants off in front of people, and I seriously hope my pants are about to come off. I assume if he’s planning to take me home later tonight, far more than my pants will be removed.
I shudder at the thought. A part of me is excited and I can’t wait. I’m also a little nervous because it’s been so damn long since I had sex. I don’t suppose I could possibly fuck it up, but I’m also not the most experienced woman alive. I had floundering sex with a few boys before I met William, and then obviously we had sex for five years, but when I look back, I feel like we weren’t very creative. It was boring actually, and I’ve changed. I would never settle for anything like that again.
Not that I’m complaining. I didn’t know any better. He didn’t either. We were young. Maybe, if he hadn’t died, we would have grown as a couple and gotten adventurous. I’ll never know.
The important thing is that the small taste of what I can expect from Master Hudson from Wednesday night was enough to make me squirm ever since.
He leads me to a different room from the other night. This one has a matching black leather loveseat, but instead of a bench, it has a pole in the center. At first, I hedge. There is no way I could possibly pole dance for this man. I’m not strong enough. I’ve never tried it.
He chuckles as he drops his bag, and I jerk my gaze to his. “Don’t worry. We’re not using the pole.” He points toward the wall, and I blow out a breath.
A normal woman in her right mind would not be relieved to see what is basically a pegboard with chains hanging from it. In fact, I almost giggle. It’s so much better than thinking I’m going to be expected to pole dance, that my relief is palpable.
Master Hudson takes my hand and draws me across the room. “Safeword?”
“Red, Sir.”
“Good. Use it if you get uncomfortable at any time. I’d like to try something different tonight. Instead of impact play, I’d like to blindfold you and then touch you with various items without you knowing where or when or what they might be.”
I shiver. That sounds erotic. Already, I’m wet. “Are you going to restrain me, Sir?” I glance at all the chains.
“If you think you can handle it. It will heighten the experience.”
“Okay.” I rub my arms.
He tips my chin back and kisses me, stepping closer. His free hand goes to the small of my back and he holds me against him as he tips his head to one side and deepens the kiss.
We’ve kissed several times now, but all of them were chaste. This one is not. He traces the seam of my lips with his tongue, and I open for him. I moan into his mouth as he strokes my tongue with his. My hands go to his waist, and I hold on to him for fear I might sway and fall.
When he finally pulls back, I’m putty. He holds my gaze. “I’m going to remove your jeans and shirt now, okay?”
“Yes, Sir.” I shiver. He has a way of being both demanding and polite at the same time.
I lift my arms as he draws the tank top over my head.
His gaze goes to my chest, and he pauses to trace the inner edge of my bra with one finger. “Jesus,” he mutters under his breath.
I’m happy that he seems so pleased.
I set my hands on his shoulders as he unfastens my jeans and lowers the zipper. He pulls them over my thighs and whistles low. “I guessed right.”
I giggle as he strips off my shoes and jeans, leaving me in my thong and bra.
He smiles at me, and holds me at arm’s length, his gaze roaming up and down my body. He draws in a deep breath. “You’re so gorgeous, Cindy.”
“Thank you, Sir.” I shiver again. He makes me feel like I’m every bit as attractive as he says.
He reaches up and pulls the band from my hair next, letting the strands tumble down around my shoulders. He runs his fingers through it over and over while I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation. “You never wear your hair down,” he murmurs. “It’s so beautiful. Full and wavy and thick.”