Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Bex was suffering from the most acute case of gay panic she'd ever experienced.

If she'd thought that Faith was delicious before, in this outfit she was delectable. Bex was having to concentrate doubly hard to make sure her sentences made sense, because all she wanted to do was to spread Faith's legs and eat her out until she gave up all her secrets.

As if voicing her desires was Faith topping from the bottom. She'd never heard anything so ridiculous in all her life. There wasn't anything the remotest bit Domme-y about Faith.

She was fairly certain she was stubborn—there was a streak of determination in her Bex wanted to see more of—but she didn't want to take charge of the evening. Faith was happy to let Bex lead on that.

And Bex wanted to.

They sat on the couch, and Faith jumped onto it, sitting in a way that only someone with ADHD would, and Bex swore that her skirt bounced up enough for a hint of black lace to show.

If Bex was looking.

Which she had determined not to do.

"So what do you like?" asked Faith.

"I like whatever my girl likes," said Bex, "and I'm not just saying that. Nothing gets me off harder than seeing a sub enjoy themselves so completely. So, you're just going to have to tell me all your deepest desires." Her voice had deepened slightly, and she didn't know if Faith could hear the strain in it, the desperation.

Bex didn't know when she'd turned into a horny teenager, but it was round about from the first moment she'd laid eyes on Faith. So well put together and presentable. Bex just wanted to ruin her. Muss her all up, and have Faith gasping her pleasure out, over and over.

"Oh," breathed Faith.

"But I need some of that directness you've mentioned. If," she added in a bit of a panic, "you're interested in playing with me. I'm sorry, Faith, pickle, I've come on a bit hard, haven't I?"

"It's quite alright," said Faith, reaching out to pat Bex's hand. "I really am quite interested in playing with you, too. Only, maybe not out here." Faith looked out across the room, and something shuttered in her eyes. "I'm not sure I want people to watch me."

"There are private playrooms," said Bex, and then added curiously. "Do you mind me asking why not? I'm not trying to change your mind; I just want to know. I want to understand."

There was a slight pause before Faith nodded. "I don't want people to laugh at me."

"Laugh at—why on earth would people laugh at you?"

"If I get it wrong. I don't want to get it wrong, but if I do, I'd rather there not be a whole audience for my humiliation."

Bex was vaguely aware of her hands clenching tight. She loosened them and smoothed down her blazer, trying to gather her thoughts. The last thing she wanted Faith to feel was scared or nervous, and if public play set her off this badly, then it was out of the question.

It made her wonder—made her worry—about the experiences Faith might have had in the past.

"The only way to mess up in my book, is to not use a safe word when you need to. That puts you in danger, and that's the only thing I'd get cross or stressed about."

"What safe word should I use?"

Bex chuckled. "That's up to you, pickle. It's not my place to tell you what word you should be using."

Faith had a think for a moment, and then said firmly, "Watermelon."

"Watermelon?"

"Watermelon. It's my favorite fruit, so I'm unlikely to forget it, but it's also something that we'd be unlikely to reference in a scene. And it's red, so it works as a traffic light. Then banana for yellow, and apple for green."

"You want to use fruits as traffic lights?"

"I like fruit," Faith said. "And besides, it means when I next eat fruit, I'll think of this night." And Bex was charmed all over again.

"Do you know what you'd like to do?"

Faith started to get flustered, and Bex reached out to hold her hands. Somehow, it seemed to calm the other woman, and Faith took a deep breath and nodded. "Maybe if we focus on one or two things? And see if we can get one of the private playrooms?"

"Of course." Bex waited. She wasn't sure what Faith was going to suggest, and her mind spun at all the possibilities laid out before the two of them.

"Maybe we could see if there's a St. Andrew's Cross in one of the private rooms? And do some impact play?"

"We can do that," said Bex, smiling. "Would you like the play to remain strictly non-sexual?"

The look Faith shot her was all wide-eyes and innocent longing. Fuck. "Would you like to?—"

"How about—" interjected Bex before Faith could start centering Bex again, "you just share with me what you want."

Wide eyes blinked rapidly. "But?—"

Bex didn't even say anything this time; merely raised an eyebrow and waited.

"Fine. No, I would like it if our play was sexual as well."

"Me too." The frisson of excitement that ran through Bex was hard to hide. "Shall we do opt in?"

Faith nodded. "I'd like kisses, please. And I'd like to keep my dress on, but I'm happy with hands and fingers beneath it."

"Over lingerie or…" Bex let her voice trail off suggestively.

Faith flushed. "Under is fine. I just don't want to get fully naked here, in case someone walks in that I don't know and…"

"I get it," said Bex, and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "All of those things sound good to me. I suppose I was wondering how you'd feel about me using my mouth on you."

The noise Faith made was unintelligible.

"Is that a yes?"

She nodded very quickly. "Yes, that's a yes."

"Okay, so we've got clothes on, though touching beneath fabric is all good. Yes to kisses, yes to fingers and hands, and yes to my mouth. Would you like me to fingerfuck you?" Her words were deliberately blunt. Bex had never liked euphemisms.

"Yes." Her directness was rewarded with a connected look and a slight smile. Faith's chest was flushing now, as well as her face; the small swell of her breasts turning pink. "And would you like me to touch you?"

"I think I'd prefer that in a bed, besides, you're going to be strung up on a St. Andrew's Cross for me. I'm not sure you'll have free hands. But kisses I'll take aplenty, if you're offering?"

Tentatively, Faith inched closer to Bex on the sofa. "I'm offering," she said.