Nestled into the corner of the cafe, sipping coffee and relaxing together, her laughter bell-like and clear. In this private little cubby I looked upon my friend and thought of her beauty and my fortune that she would bless me with her presence and her care. Her skin the color of my adulterated beverage, cream and bitter potion in equal portions, her hair and eyes matching her own dark coffee though more luminous and enchanting. We spoke of new jobs, new changes in life, new distractions from the stresses we each bore, and somewhere the conversation shifted, she asked after my particular appetites. I'd acquired some new toys and told her of them, and her head lifted.
She hesitated a moment, quietly I watched, and then she filled the silence, "I'm not sure if I would like some of those."
"Which ones?" I asked, she told me. I nodded, asked whether she was curious what they were like. She stared into her cup, was she watching her own reflection while she pondered my question? Curiosity became proposal and soon we found ourselves in more private confines. My soon to be lover rubbed at her arm as she sat on the bed, glancing around the room, at my kit as I set it out, the blank screen of the television, the droning wall mounted air conditioner, anywhere but directly at me. My heart had begun to quicken the moment we'd left the cafe and gotten in the car, and now it pounded nearly out of my chest. Beloved friend was soon to become lover if this course kept and my mind filled with half-doubts. Could she be thinking as I? A deep breath while she wasn't looking, an appearance of calm necessary even as my mouth went dry and heart wild, and then sitting by her side. The silence felt like a void, vacuum wanting to be filled but no words would come, then I felt her hand on mine and reflex took over, fingers intertwining.
My voice was gentler than I thought it could be, "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"
"Yes." Her response was instant.
"And you remember the rules we talked about?"
She nodded and met my eyes for the first time since we'd entered the room, her scent orange blossom and honey and strawberries and I felt the mask come on me. Fear and uncertainty fled, my other self took over, and our lips met. In a moment she was beneath me and even as I began my caress I could feel her need mixing with mine, raw and tempestuous. My inner beast called out, demanded immediate answer to the hunger, but the mask and my love for her locked it beneath chains. She would know me at my most controlled, she would know the particular pleasure I'd promised her. She pawed at me, dragging me to her and I caught her wrists and took them behind her, pinning them. Her tongue met mine and sought to draw me in but I pulled back to keep my lips just at the edge of her reach. Dark and lovely friend writhed there as my lightest touches covered her body, undressing her, setting nerves to tingling and stoking her need even as my own rose to fevered inferno beneath the control of my mask. I began the long play, the symphony of sensation as I knew it, no part of her was stranger to my touch by the end, and I learned her taste. The first interlude began and I traced a line of kisses up her stomach and between her breasts before meeting her mouth and pulling her against me, melting together. Hot, panting breaths escaped between paired lips many times before parting and looking once more into one another's eyes.
Long moments before I could speak, "Are you ready for what comes next?"
An answering nod and we shifted. Fingers laced in her hair, gentle but firm and I moved to the edge of the bed and drew her along. She took her place, and I waited until comfort was found, her weight draped across my thigh. A slight roll of my wrist in her hair and I was looking into those beautiful pools again, seeing my own reflection as she must see me, and my first strike fell. She yipped and I waited, the initial impact was sometimes tough to judge but her smile told me I was right. More strikes and a pattern took shape, my palm stinging with each completed movement as free wrist and elbow described a figure eight through the air, her ass growing slightly redder with each pass. Bitten lip to contain gasps, she squirmed some as I paused. Releasing her hair and nodding she moved to her next position, and I to mine. An item from my kit in each hand, I approached her from behind, kissed her neck, made sure she wanted to continue, handed her what she would control, and pulled back to wait. As she sat at the end of the bed, bending over, sweaty skin glistening in the wan light, I could see she was mine. The marks of my hand across her rear that would be added to shortly were only the thinnest of claim. The ripple of muscle beneath skin as she twisted, the looks she gave me seeking approval as she traced the movements we'd discussed, the way she had called my name as she'd tensed while my tongue had worked... those, one and all, stronger signs she belonged to me. In position, she turned on the vibrator I'd given her and within moments began to moan, her sensitivity growing greater and greater. I was instantly and painfully erect, as I'd been at each stage since her blouse had come off, as she'd struggled against me trying to undress me in turn. Three deep inhalations and my work began. The paddle slapped and she gasped. Again. Again. Again. Rhythm took over, mechanical and methodical. This was her portion of the play to end, me but playing the actor's role and keeping my arms moving, fifteen strokes to one cheek, alternate, repeat. She climaxed and raised a hand, I stopped, waited, caressed and kissed her back. Her hand came down, she nodded and spoke the command to begin again and we repeated. Three times she came, each time a bit harder, each pause a little longer.
There's power in threes, some mystical or fae thing, exhaustion nearly took her there as she lay panting, but desire and curiosity to know what came next pushed her onward. The last act arrived, and I put the paddle down and took up the crop. She'd picked the final goal, one hundred swats, as she edged with the vibrator and kept herself on the very border of euphoria. A set of ten, then a tease of the crop's tress along her untouched back and down to welt covered buttocks and thighs, even the lightest touches across reddened flesh drawing gasps from her now. Counting aloud, ninety-five, tears carrying mascara and staining sheets, ninety-six, biting a pillow to stifle moans and shouts, ninety-seven, she began to squirm with the vibrator in her hands. Ears straining to see if she would call me off, eyes alert to any movement from her hands to let me know she'd hit her limit, the last three swats barely registered to me. Screams barely muffled by the pillow before her, a convulsion that shook the bed, and she peaked. At her side in an instant, my own tools set aside and taking hers away with a gentle hand, she was utterly beautiful in the moment's glance I had before she clung to me and buried her face against my chest. One couldn't be sure how long I held her there, how long until the sobs and giggles escaping her in equal measure calmed, or how long it was before I realized she was unbuttoning my shirt. This time I didn't fight my need as she kissed me, didn't try to control or slip behind the mask, didn't seek to check her movements. She had become mine beneath marks left by open palm and paddle and crop, I became hers as I filled her and she marked my back with sharp nails. We lay entangled after this final act, her ultimate addition to the perfomance, giggling and tracing featherlight touches and sweet kissing and speaking of coffee.
