Ben knocks hard on my door again. It startles me. Why does he do that? I know it’s six without checking the clock. He would be exactly on time. That’s who he is.
The table is set. The salad is ready, I just put the potatoes in the oven a half hour ago and was waiting until he got here to cook the steaks. The whole time that I’ve been prepping dinner, I’ve been wondering when to have the I-don’t-love-you talk with him. I think over dinner would be best. Food makes it seem easier.
I look in my hallway mirror before I open the door. I look good. When I open the door, I decide he looks good too. He’s in jeans with a dress shirt and a suede jacket, but his face is slightly tense. The silver hairs of his stubble seem to be more on end. Does he have his own furrow between his eyebrows? Ben Sheppard smiles and hands me a bouquet of red roses.
Red roses! He’s not going to make this easy is he?
“For you,” he says and kisses me. It’s one of his soft, fluttery ones. It’s nice, but I don’t let myself enjoy it as much as the past ones.
I thank him and take the bouquet and make my way into the kitchen. He follows me. While I’m cutting the stems he says it.
“I thought we should talk, Tess.”
Uh-oh. I guess we won’t be waiting until dinner.
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. I’ll be right out. Go have a seat.”
He smiles and turns and I futz with the bouquet. It just won’t lay how I want it. To hell with it, I think. I pour myself a half a glass of wine and drink it in one gulp. I pour another and one for him. When I come into the living room he’s sitting on the edge of the couch. I hand him his glass which he doesn’t sip from but puts down on the coffee table right away.
“I never wanted to give you the wrong impression, Tess. Things between us got going a lot faster than I planned.”
I start to interrupt, but he stops me by putting his hand on my leg.
“You’re a wonderful woman. It’s just that I’m going back to Milwaukee. I have a life there. I like how my life is there. I wouldn’t be truthful if I said I’d try to make it down here every so often and that’s not really fair to you.”
I’m relieved. I thought I’d be letting him down. I think of toying with him—“But I can move to Milwaukee, Ben”—but remember I’m a grown-up.
“Ben, relax. We’re on the same page. I’ve given this thought and we are just at different stages of our lives. I’m terribly fond of you. I love you in a way but not the right way. Maybe it’s a different kind of love. But I will tell you that you are the best lover I’ve ever had. Ever. In fact, I feel like you’re the only true lover I’ve ever had. Thank you for that. You’ve not only opened up my eyes to a wonderful world of passion but to myself.”
Ben Sheppard’s body relaxes and he sits back on the couch. He is smiling. His face is relaxed. His own furrow is gone.
“Thank god,” he says. “I felt so bad for not bringing this up before. I wasn’t sure how tonight was going to go.”
“You want to know how tonight is going to go, big boy?”
I kick his shin with my big toe. I am feeling relieved and playful.
“Here’s how tonight is going to go: I’m going to feed you a big steak with a salad and potatoes. We’re going to drink too much wine, we’re going to talk and dance and when the moment is right, you’re going to take me to bed.”
“That sounds like a good night.”
“Yes, it does. How do you like your steak?”
“Of course you do,” I say.
I sear his steak on my cast-iron pan. The pan is hot as I could make it and I leave his New York Strips on each side for two minutes. I cook mine longer but not as long as I may have once done. I plate his steak and potatoes and bring it along with his salad in a bowl and serve it to him at my dining room table. He kisses my cheek as I bend down. I get my plate and I sit down and we eat and talk and finish off two bottles of wine. He tells me funny stories about his children and I tell him funny stories about Danny. He tells me about the guys he’d grown to like out at the factory in Crittenden and I don’t tell him about the people I don’t like at my office.
He tells me to go sit on the couch in the living room while he clears the plates and I let him. When I tell him to not bother with washing up, he tells me with a smile to have another glass of wine and be quiet. I have another glass of wine and am quiet and enjoy the sound of him cleaning my kitchen.
When he is done, he comes into the living room and turns off the stereo. I had been playing some new age stuff.
“You can’t dance to that,” he says. He puts out his hand and steadies me as I wobble to my feet. “We’ll dance to our own rhythm,” he says.
And we do for I don’t know how long, then I put my hand on the back of his neck and look up into his hazel eyes.
“Take me to bed,” I say. I grab a tuft of the silver hair at his temples. “I want you to make love to me. I want you to fuck me. I need your firm hands on me. In bed, I’m yours to do with as you want.”
The green of his eyes flare.
“Go to your bedroom. Strip naked and lay down on the bed. I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
He doesn’t answer but glares at me. I do as I’m told.
As I head for my bedroom, I hear him open the front door. I’m curious but quickly strip and jump into bed. I’m naked and chilly with my head propped up on my elbow when he walks in. He has a bundle of something under his arm. He puts it in the corner of my bedroom.
“On your back,” he says.
I lay on my back.
“Put your arms up above your head, toward the side of the bed.”
I put my arms up. He’s taking off his own clothes. He’s letting me watch him do it. I enjoy watching him do it.
“Spread your legs.”
I spread them. He pulls the blanket and top sheet off of me. I’m exposed. Ben Sheppard is standing at the foot of the bed and can look right into me.
He’s as naked as I am now. He goes to the corner where he laid down that bundle he brought in. I lean back and wait for whatever it is. I feel a roughness on my ankle and I look down. He is tying my feet.
Do I want this, I ask myself. I drive the question away. I trust Ben Sheppard.
“Say it louder.”
“Tripod,” I yell.
“That’s your safe word. You don’t feel safe. You don’t like anything, you say ‘tripod’. Now, say it again.”
“Good. What I’m tying you with is a single column cuff. It won’t hurt. It won’t tighten around your wrists at all, but it will hold you down. I’m tying the other end to the leg of the bed frame.”
“Okay,” I say.
I’m nervous but also excited. I like the feel of the rope against my skin, but I have some doubt.
He moves to my other leg and does the same thing. I keep both legs still. I’m afraid to move. I feel a firm pull on my right leg, but I keep still.
When he seems done, he comes up to my side and bends down and kisses my lips. He takes my right arm and ties it to the bed leg. When he’s done, I pull at it. I can barely move my arm. He walks around the foot of my bed and begins tying my left arm
“When I tie this arm down you’re not going to be able to move. You’ll be unable to stop me from doing anything I want with you.”
I notice the ropes against my skin. I feel an end of it snap against my forearm as he ties the final knot. I wince.
He looks down at me and smiles.
I’d been so occupied with the sensation of the rope on my skin that I didn’t notice how excited I’ve become. My insides were clenched and I am wet. I amaze at it. I am wet and he’s barely touched me. I feel like I’ve been cured of a horrible disease in the last month. I might not love Ben Sheppard, but I would do anything for him. He’s cured me.
“Test the ropes,” Ben says.
I pull at them. There’s a slight amount of give. A claustrophobic feeling creeps into my head. Do I say ‘tripod’? I don’t. Not now.
“No,” he says. “Really give them a good test.”
“Pull on them harder.”
I pull harder. As he says, the rope doesn’t tighten around my wrists or ankles, but I can’t slip out either. He’s good at tying women down.
“Harder,” he says more firmly.
I begin to wiggle and writhe and pull, and the claustrophobia seems to be yielding to excitement. Or maybe the claustrophobia is the excitement. I can feel my heart thump under my naked breast. I can hear blood rushing through my ears. I look down and my nipples are hard little buttons standing at attention. Ben Sheppard is at the foot of the bed smiling. He’s looking right at my pussy. It’s so good to be so wet without having been touched.
“Your right arm is too loose,” he says.
He comes around the bed and tightens the rope.
This causes my breath to hitch. I fight the ropes again and realize I’m helpless. I test the rope holding down my right arm and it’s holding me down tight. Whatever Ben Sheppard wants to do to me, he can do. Will he hurt me? Will he call a group of guys over and gang-bang me? Will he take pictures of me? Will he fuck me them leave me this way?
No. I trust Ben Sheppard.
He turns off the light and climbs on top of me and lays himself down between my legs. I look up into his handsome face helpless, a little scared, a lot curious. His eyes are raging so green that I see them through the darkness. The silver in his hair picks up the light drifting in from the hallway and glimmers. I feel his cock slap my tummy.
He’s on my elbows and he works his right hand to the top of my head. He grabs a fist full of my hair. He’s not pulling but holds it tight near my scalp. He can turn my head anyway he wants and he does—side-to-side. He stops and leans in close to my right ear.
“Here’s the thing,” he says. “You don’t come until I say you can come. You got that?”
I don’t get it. I don’t understand. I want to come so bad. I have years of coming to catch up on!
“Who’s in charge here?”
“You are, Ben.”
“That’s right. And I said, you are not allowed to come.”
“The why doesn’t matter. If you come without my permission, I’ll leave you like this. I’ll leave you tied to your bed. Helpless. Got it?”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
He digs his fingers deeper into my hair, tightening his control. It hurts a little. I yelp.
“Try me,” he whispers in a low guttural tone. “I’m going to fuck you now.”
And he does. I feel his cock just past the lips of my pussy—that nice, big, full head of his. I’m yearning for his cock deep inside of me. Instead he pulls out. I feel his head back inside me. He does this again.
“No. I just want to fuck you with the tip of my cock now. You’ve such a wonderful pussy, men should worship it. Men should take their time and enjoy it. That’s what I’m going to do.”
He tightens his hold on my hair. I feel he’s doing it to quiet me. The tension stretches from my scalp deep down into my womb. It makes me want his cock more.
“I’ll be deeper when I want,” he says and continues to fuck me with just the tip of that wonderful cock.
I feel an orgasm building up inside of me. It’s nice to know when I’m going to come, but for the first time I’m afraid to come. Would Ben really leave me? I feel my pussy clutch at Ben’s cock and it aches wanting Ben to complete the void he’s leaving unfilled. I focus on my breath. The bright light is growing, but I’m containing it. The breathing seems to help me tamper down the pressure building up inside of me, but it doesn't help for long. I’m walking along a razor’s edge. One push and I’ll fall off into a massive, explosive climax. It’s right there. I can reach out and touch it, but if I do what will Ben Sheppard do? Will he leave me naked, fucked and tied up on this bed?
Just as I’m about to peak Ben slides more of himself into me. God, he feels huge. He’s still got a hold on my hair and has propped himself up on his left arm. His breath is calm and focused. I look down between us. I catch a glimpse of space between his stomach and my tummy and see his cock on the out-stroke and, when he goes in, I discover there’s barely much of him at all inside of me...but he feels so huge.
“My god, Ben.”
I hear him chuckle slightly. He builds me up again. I’m so close to coming. I can touch it. I can feel it. My stomach rises up into my throat like I’m just past the peak of a rollercoaster. But Ben seems to be able to tell when I’m about to fall off that razor’s edge again because he changes ever so slightly. He’s deeper now and has rested his left elbow on the mattress. His cock is entering me from a different angle.
And again it builds. He twists my head to one side and I feel his mouth on my ear.
“I’ve only got half my cock in this sweet pussy of yours.”
It’s too much. I’m peaking and he senses it. His grip tightens and he’s pulling my hair now. It hurts so much.
“Don’t you dare come, Tess. Don’t you dare.”
I gulp air. I don’t come, but he doesn’t stop fucking me either. I don’t know how much of him is in me. I don’t care. I just want to come and be fucked and to come and be fucked. I could have come three or four times already. I spent too much of my life not coming to not come now—now that I can.
“Ben Sheppard, let me come, you son-of-a-bitch.”
He laughs at me.
I strain against the ropes. I feel the soft fibers digging into my flesh. Every muscle is tense. I’m gritting my teeth. My eyes are squeezed shut. I’m forcing myself to keep my breath regular, but it’s getting so hard. All I can hear is the wet sound of his cock pulling and pushing inside of me.
It’s then that I feel his pubic bone against me. I now have all of Ben Sheppard inside of me and it’s so wonderful feeling his strong, full strokes nearly pull out of me then ram his entire length into my welcoming pussy.
I’m on the edge again. I feel comfortable on the edge now. Maybe I could dance on the edge—a little pirouette and a curtsy to my orgasm. My body has disappeared—all but that piece of me being fucked by Ben Sheppard.
“Tess,” he says.
I don’t hear him at first. I’m not here anymore.
“Tess,” he says louder.
I can’t talk. I grunt in reply.
“You can come now.”
It’s a sudden drop from a great height. It explodes inside me and outside me. My mind is shattered. I hear myself screaming but don’t feel sound coming from my throat. It’s ecclesiastical. I’m in Heaven. I’m laid bare. It’s the glory of the great come.
And still Ben fucks me.
I’m coming again. What little movement my body can manage against Ben’s bindings is going into fucking Ben Sheppard back. This second orgasm is more base. Earthy. Wild. Feral. It’s the come of another creature. It’s me pre-evolution. It’s carnality manifest. It has got nothing to do with my mind.
Everything is wet. The sheets are drenched. I’m squirting and coming again. I stow away my embarrassment and I ride the climax as it travels up and down my body. This third one is pure fun and joy. I laugh.
Amidst all this, I feel Ben tense. He lets go of my hair and punches the mattress. He arches up—our bodies only touching at his cock and my pussy. He looks strong and handsome and happy. I exercise the only control I have while still bound—I squeeze my pussy tight around him. I feel the head of his cock expand then release into me again and again. I smile at the loud, animal sound he makes.
When it’s passed and he looks down at me, I smile.
“Sorry about the mess,” I say.
“Shhhh!” he says softly.
It’s too early. He’s still not back from wherever his orgasm sent him. He pulls out of me and lays a kiss on my neck. He works his body down and kisses my breast then my tummy and I’m shocked when I feel his mouth on my pussy.
I feel his tongue probe and lick my folds. It’s cooling and highly erotic. He’s licking his come and my come from me. He lifts himself up and lays down on me again. He kisses me deep and I taste my pussy and his cock and feel his come and my come mix together and we move it back and forth as we kiss.
I must have collapsed into sleep. When I wake, I find that Ben has untied the ropes and put them into the corner in four tidy bundles. My wrists and ankles are sore and when I sit up I learn my whole body is sore—wonderfully, wonderfully sore.
Ben is asleep—naked on top of the blankets. He is snoring quietly and his hair is a mess. His flaccid cock looks innocent and unassuming flopped against his leg.
I go to the bathroom. My inner thighs are sticky from the fun, so I step into the tub for a quick shower. I turn the water hot and it is nice to feel it running over my skin and down my body. I smile and think about how happy I am.
I step out of the shower and wipe the steam off the mirror. I comb my hair out and lotion myself. I catch a glimpse of myself. I look closer. I lean into the mirror until I am almost touching it—the way I do when plucking my eyebrows. The furrow? It’s gone. Not a trace of it. Not an echo. I feel my tummy. The rock is gone. I tighten and clench my abs. Nothing. I feel light. I feel taller. I feel good.
Thank you, Ben Sheppard. Thank you.
No. It wasn’t Ben Sheppard. It was me. I let Ben guide me into this new world I now stand in, but it was me who decided to walk into it. I would have never guessed it but—the spanking, the being tied down, the firm hand—was what I needed—is what I need.
When I walk out of the bathroom, I find Ben awake with the nightstand light on. He is just finishing changing the sheets.
“Things were a little...damp,” he says.
“Thank you for that.”
“It’s no trouble.”
“I meant for making things damp.”
He smiles at me. He takes my hand and lays me down into bed then cuddles up behind me. We’re spooning. I feel his chin on top of my head and I can see that his breath moves some of my hairs. His left hand is cupping my left breast. His cock is wedged in the cleft of my ass. His left foot is hooked around mine and he tickles the bottom of my feet with his toes.