Chapter 35

Kathleen

The water disappears down the drain. Ira gets out, grabbing a towel and drying herself off as I remain in receding water. Her physique is especially radiant in the candlelight. Her chest unrestricted, her arms strong, and the subtle curves of her body bringing attention to her pelvis. There's something vulnerable about someone like her walking around naked in front of you completely herself. Intimate. She's saying she trusts you to not judge, to not sum her up as all of her visual parts. There's plenty in her heart and soul to digest, too.

"Let's get you dried off," she says, extending her hand to me. Before I know it, Ira's wrapped a fresh towel around me and is slowly, tortuously patting my skin dry.

I know what she's doing. I allow her, letting out a moan as I succumb to her embrace.

"You're so soft," she mutters, the white cloth brushing against my nipples and making them hard. The cloth is soon replaced by her fingers. Her lips are on my neck.

"Ira…" I want a name for her. I need something to call her that's intimately us.

"Yes?" Her hands grip me harder, spreading my legs apart so she can tease my slit.

"Make love to me."

Her groping slows. "Do you want it?"

The towel pats my stomach. "Yes." My voice is so meek. Whose is it?

It's the sub's. She's coming out to play now that she knows it's safe.

Towel wrapped around my body, Ira bends down and sweeps my feet out from beneath me. My hair falls from the clasp, letting it clatter to the bathroom floor as Ira Fucking Mathison once again half-carries me to her room.

I'm not afraid. I'm warm and relaxed, and she's smiling as if she's won some great prize.

Me.

Don't get me wrong. Ira isn't some super bodybuilder who can pick up fully-grown and average-weighted women like it's nothing. Oh, she can pick me up, but I can tell any farther than her room and she would have some problems. Like, first in line at the emergency room problems.

It's okay. We only need to go as far as her room, where she lays me on her bed and climbs on top of me.

It's dark in here. Not black as night, but the candles from the bathroom aren't bright enough to illuminate this room. It's enough for me to see her outline, the golden glow of her skin, and the countenance of pleasure she sports.

She's so damn beautiful, and to think that she's all mine tonight…

No number of Ms. Beautifuls at the club would be enough to give me the feeling I have. Not that I know what this feeling is.

Maybe it's… love?

No time to think about it. I'm suddenly awash in heat and desire as Ira smothers me with her body, her mouth on mine, and her tongue making an unreal descent down my throat. Her palms hold me down – gently – push into my hair and cover me all over. I swear she must have five hands. They're everywhere, rubbing my flesh, squeezing my extra fat, and making me feel like the most beautiful, most desirable woman in the world.

I moan so soon. With my legs spread around her, I can feel my arousal ease from me.

I want to be lost in these motions. I want to fade into obscurity, where all I have to think about is her voice as she climaxes, her body shuddering, her words dissipating into my ear. I want to only know what it feels like to be made love to – to make love to someone back. I want it all because I'm a greedy woman who isn't happy if I don't have everything at once.

Except Ira ruins it for a single second. She bites my nipple, making me moan so loudly that it feels verboten. Then she licks my earlobe, her voice grating.

"I'm taking you, Katie. I'm going to fuck you until you know you're mine. Again."

These shudders I feel aren't of pleasure. I'm flashing back to the last time we had sex, when that voice inside of me betrayed my trust. It said I wanted it. It said I wouldn't have a problem letting her claim me. It lied.

"Okay…" I want to feel her skin inside me – that, at least, was exhilarating. But… "Just your body, okay? I only want what we've got right now."

She's kissing my throat, hard, leaving a mark that I'll have to cover for days. "That's what I had in mind. We can save our other preferences for some other time. Although…" Great. What is it now? "I wouldn't mind coming on you. While I'm on top."

Her voice is droll, but in the dim candlelight, I can see that classic Ira Mathison smirk on her face. "Depends what you mean by that, I guess." I know what she means because there are talented women in this world who can get… very excited. And messy. It's not like I didn't get a preview at the symphony, but that was hardly on purpose.

And on me? Like I'm her receptacle of pleasure? The one who's supposed to coo and encourage her to give me more? No, I'm the one who usually does that. When I'm with someone else, even another woman, they're this… doe-eyed baby bird I've just defiled with my orgasm. One they can't get enough of, because they're built that way, and I'm the one who…

"You have nothing to be afraid of. This isn't BDSM, darling," Ira says, interrupting my spiral of intrusive thoughts. "This is me wanting to share my most intimate thing with you. Just like this whole night. I'm not your Domme. I'm the one you're making love with."

"I don't know…"

"Babe." That tone is almost admonishing, yet I gravitate toward it. Ira, you're destroying me. "We can't move forward with anything else until we get past this."

"This what?

"Katie… this you constantly fighting me because you can't be on the bottom to save your life, even though your words and your body keep telling me that you want it."

I know she's right. When we have a scene soon enough, she'll want to do one of the most basic things a Domme does. Namely, she'll want to perform her version of claiming her partner, and I'll have to be able to handle it. Even if it means a judicious shower afterward.

It seems so simple. It's not simple for me.

"Do you want my cunt, Katie?"

I close my eyes, feeling her all around me. Her scent. Her body. Her warm voice pushing me to my limits. "I want you inside me…" I'm empty between the legs. Ira's hovering dangerously close, fingers ready, itching to get in and fuck my stupid brains out. She takes my hand and brings it between her thighs as well, urging me to fuck her too. I haven't been inside her quite like that yet. I've toyed with it, come close, teased her one or two inches in while eating her out, but… I've yet to feel her inner walls close in on me.

When I think of it that way…

"Katie…" Her kisses return to my skin, overwhelming me with a burning need to be conjoined. Everything inside me aches to know her. To feel her. To take what she has and transform myself into someone I barely know. "Katie!"

I shriek, in desire and surprise, as Ira drives half her hand into me.

We're gone.

It's so instant. So animalistic. Not just her, but me as well. So that's what she feels like. She sucks me in like it was always meant to be. I want her. I want this unadulterated feeling of fullness that overtakes me, my opening parting to take her fingers in one blessed stroke. It hurts. It invigorates me. It makes me fuck her harder without even thinking about it.

I've been wanting this all night. I've been wanting this all week.

I've been wanting this ever since I first met her.

She knows how to fuck. From the moment she's inside, she's working me, her wrist relentless against my thighs as her fingertips reach for my core. I'm wetter every time she even slightly pulls out. My hand is trapped between her leg, but I can barely move it, because she holds me down and pummels me below. I'm a conduit for Ira's pleasure. She's fucking me more than I'm fucking her. Both between my legs and hers.

The sweet heat of her pussy is undoing me. God! What is it about this woman that makes me do things I never thought I would?

"You're so fucking beautiful." She loves telling me that. I can't say I want her to stop.

My free hand braces against her shoulder. Ira goes between staring into my eyes and closing her own, losing herself to the movements we create together. Because it's not just her now as she finally lets go. It's me, fucking her as much as she's fucking me. The easier she slips into me, the more I want her. Shit! It sounds so good. The melody of her hand plunging into my folds, my pussy so fucking wet that it only serves as an intense reminder of what we're doing.

I want to be wetter. I want to feel her wetness all over me. Even inside of me. What if it's all the same to me already?

"Katie." Don't ever let her stop calling me that. I don't care about the other pet names she peppers into our private conversations. I want to hear my name like that. I want to hear her come undone inside of me. I feel it starting to happen. Not only my orgasm, but my muscles clamping down on her knuckles as I force her deeper, deeper inside. No, I feel that sweet pulsing of her form as she rhythmically thrusts into me.

The mattress sinks beneath me with every thrust. The headboard hits the wall, my squeals of impending orgasm ripping my throat apart as Ira pulls me out of her so she can sit up, grab me by the hips, and drive so hard into me that I…

I…

I'm coming.

My eyes roll into the back of my head. All I know is that I feel so full and taken care of that I'm feasting on Ira, her energy, her ability to turn me into this kind of person. Her grunts turn into long, hard groans.

"I'm coming, babe."

It's the only warning I get. At first, I wish she hadn't told me. But I grab her arms, holding myself firm as my orgasm hits a new peak and I swear to God she can do whatever she wants.

Like unleashing herself all over me using nothing but her other hand and the memories of what I had done to her.

My eyes snap open. Ira's looking at me, drinking in everything she sees as she climaxes, her pelvis shuddering in sensations that I was so afraid of last time when we used the prosthetic.

I'm entranced. I'm hot. I'm wet.

Every pulse of her body is a revelation. I don't feel afraid. If anything, I feel at peace. In paradise. As if this is how it's supposed to be.

Her womanly cry of pure, unadulterated pleasure tickles my ear shortly before she comes on my mound. Not just once, either.

This is so different. This feels beyond. It's making my brain melt and my skin scream in joy. I've never felt so connected to another human being before. Even when we don't touch, she's with me. I'm with her.

We're one.

"Oh." I don't know which one of us says it as she collapses on top of me. My arms wrap around Ira, holding her against me as my legs tremble, sore. I'm not used to spreading them so wide for anyone. Yet she makes me want to.

I want to do so many strange things with her.

Before I want her to even think about it, Ira puts her hand on my stomach before bringing it up to my mouth. My lips curl around her fingers, tasting me, her, the product of our bodies entwined, but there's no doubt about it. I'm the receiver, she's the giver.

This is it. The moment my brain might jump ship on me.

It doesn't. I feel so at peace before, and I do after. Probably because Ira's smiling at me with a genuine kindness no one gives me in bed.

"You're amazing." Her limbs entwine with mine, spreading my legs open as I try to close them. "Can you feel it?"

Ira takes my hand and guides it to my wet slit. Shit, I'm so wet. I didn't realize it, even with the sounds and sensations she gave me only a few seconds ago. Yet I feel it now. My wetness and arousal coating my fingers.

She pulls my hand between her legs. I instinctively sink my finger between her hot and slick folds. It was all part of her master plan, wasn't it? Because she comes again. On my hand. On me. In me, for all I know. Panic arises that is quickly quelled with a tender kiss on the shoulder.

Something happens. My mind slips into a post-sex coma that is mediated with a hug and a whisper in the ear.

"We'll start your training soon, Katie."

I think I'm nodding. I'm not sure. The darkness of sleep is claiming me.