Submitting to Her(89)

Perhaps after a couple of glasses of dry white, she might pick one of them.





*





She told me later how it went, and that was the best part, made all those nerves worthwhile. This particular conference was not far away, within a hotel in D.C., so she did make it back into our own bed some time in the small hours.

I'd been on tenterhooks all night to find out how it all was for her.

My heart was in my throat as I greeted her at the door, wondering what this experience had done to her. She was breathtakingly beautiful, of course. Hair still slightly messed up from her earlier sex and rapid escape from the scene, while with the gentle rosy glow in her cheeks suggested she had been fully satisfied by the experience - something that warmed me even before she opened up about what happened.

I do like it when she's content.

"I love having you to come home to, Jones," she smiled, running her eyes appreciatively over my bare chest before she stepped up to kiss me.

"I'm glad it pleases you, Ma'am."

"I think what pleases me is if we go straight to the bedroom. Don't you want me to tell you all about it?"

There was wildfire in her eyes. It was intensely thrilling.

"Yes, Ma'am."

But she paused, held me, kissed me again, breathing deeply as she did so. Then she said: "Mmm… you even smell different."

I trembled a little at the thought of her being with another man, a stranger. How sexy she was with such power in her sexuality, and my ultimate submission was that she could get exactly what she wanted, so long as she came back to me afterward. I wasn't just giving her every little ounce of pleasure possible from my own capability, but the possibility of the pleasure another could give as well.

I helped her remove her jacket and hung it up for her, and then she grabbed my hand to lead me through to her bedroom. Our bedroom, as it was now. That was quite something to get used to, living with your partner - something I'd never done before Zoey, of course.

I tried to keep calm as we clambered onto the bed, but it was difficult when she was so fired up, so wonderfully sexual.

I'd noticed she wasn't wearing any stockings now, but as her legs curled up under her, I stole a glimpse that told me she wasn't wearing panties, either. My thickening cock jumped at the sight. I knew she was wearing them during her speech.

For a long while we just sat together there on the bed and kissed.

I never used to appreciate kissing before Zoey. I guess I was always like a lot of guys who just saw kissing as the gateway to other things, and were keen to get past it and onto the good stuff. But really, if you allow it time, if you avoid rushing, and just realize the pleasure that can be had simply from brushing lips against each other, from the tender touch of tongues, from the gentle sucking of face, it was just as sensual as any oral sex.

As we kissed, I could see flickering recognition in Zoey's eyes that this was what she liked best. Although she'd just had a fulfilling quickie with an alpha male, getting her little fix of being dominated, it was kissing like this and the slow sensual heaven I brought her in submitting to her, that she adored more than anything. It was always fun to have a quick hard fuck, but no one could give her the hours of slow-burning pleasure I could in my role as Zoey's oh-so-willing servant.

I saw how she responded to the softness of my touch, breathing in the subtle cologne I wore, getting back in touch with the gentle man she'd found to love her for the rest of her life.

"Oh, God, I've missed that," she breathed as we parted and I helped her remove her shirt, noticing a few of the buttons were gone, even though we were doing this only a couple of evenings ago.

She was still wearing her bra, but as one of my hands moved down to close around a breast, my lips moving to her neck, she stopped me, pushed my hand down between her thighs, and grabbed hold of the back of my head to snatch another kiss from my mouth.

"I got so wet on the journey back," she said, and I could smell her juices even before she forced my hand up her skirt, pushing the taut material up to reveal her startling nudity and her flushed, open flower. "Thinking about you back here, waiting for me."

As always, there was something in that spicy scent from her arousal that drove me wild.

She held my head in both hands, pulled me back from her face, said: "Tell me it was all okay? It wasn't a horrible experience for you?"

I smiled, and simply from that expression, she seemed to visibly relax, her anxiety melting away. "I love knowing how good it makes you feel," I said gently, eyes wide and earnest. "I can tell how hot it gets you - and there's nothing more incredible than seeing you all hot and bothered."

She beamed with unconcealed bliss.

"It wasn't too much for you, waiting while I was at the conference, flirting with all those execs?"