Loading...PART I.
I was overwhelmed while doing my makeup. I had to concentrate on making sure my fingers didn’t twitch, sending the blush in all directions. I was so turned on it wasn’t even funny. When I finished, and then gave my hair a last look, I left the bathroom, and my very high heels clicked across my apartment floor and back into my bedroom.
I looked in the full length mirror. I wanted to make sure, that when I arrived at the address, I looked absolutely perfect. Finally, I could say I do. I spent extra time and care shaving myself so there would be no nicks. I went through five outfits before selecting one that felt right.
See, I love my legs, and show them every chance I get. At 5’5″ they are longer than they should be. So my mini-dress was appropriately short. I danced quite a bit as a little girl, and with the right heel/dress combo, my legs show it. Truth be told, I love wearing skirts and mini-dresses, always garnering comments when I sit cross-legged in a chair. Even my boyfriend loves to stare at them still, and we’ve been dating for quite some time. Though, I’m only feeling the tiniest bit of guilt when confessing that tonight, they were not for him.
Before I go any further, I guess you should know that…well, I’m a submissive, and when I’m very turned on, and serving my mistress, she makes me admit I’m actually a lesbian submissive. I suppose it’s not a big deal. After all, many women out there play this game. I just wonder how many of those that play this way also have a boyfriend who has no idea what’s going on.
If you saw me out with friends, or going through my daily life, you’d never see that this part of me exists. Mistress Lisa does though, and she insists I keep the whole thing a secret. Now and then she reminds me that the reason why I love it so much is because I have no one to tell. In part she’s right. It drives me crazy that I can’t tell people the things I love to do sexually, and only with Mistress Lisa do I get a chance to be set free. It has gotten to a point though, that I feel so amazing from the experiences and so alive, that I want to “brag” for lack of a better word, and finally told her so. Her solution was to make me write our story, and if it was good, to submit it to websites to publish.
That is exactly what I am doing, and naturally, I’ve changed the names. I’ve also thought it best to do it in three parts. My hope is that it will inspire first timers to reveal their experiences, because truly, the real stories are so much better than those made up. Then again, maybe I just got lucky. =)
So there I stood, in front of my mirror, taking a deep breath, trying to relax and calm down. Her place was still a cab ride away. But finally, after months and months of teasing, and seduction…after confessions and begging, my Mistress wanted to meet me behind closed doors. Tonight was the night, and while I admired myself in the minute, I recollected the steps of the journey with Lisa that brought me to this moment.
Yes, I do have a boyfriend. His name is Mark. Mistress would prefer me telling all of you that. She takes great pride in the fact that while he knows I like females, and while he and I watch girl/girl porn together, he doesn’t know that she exists. In fact, that’s exactly the way she wants it, and at the risk of getting ahead of myself, told me that if I ever told him about her and I, she would end it immediately. I asked her why once , and her whispered response melted me so badly, that I begged for her ass on my face again. “Secrets,” she said, are what keep you coming back for more.” But like I said, I am getting ahead of myself.
I knew I liked girls, and I thought about them all the time. I just never told any guy I dated this little nugget of truth about me. Sure, many would love to have heard those very words come out of my mouth, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want them to make it about, well, them.
Also though, I wasn’t ready to do it for me. I always fantasized about it, sure. And being a very attractive, mixed race, 25 year old, I’ve been hit on by many females. But, I get too shy, and close down, and never do anything about it. The one time I actually had enough courage to hang in there and strike up a conversation with a female that was my type, the guy I was dating at the time saw it unfold, and became insanely jealous. The night ended abruptly, and not only did I not get her number, I didn’t have sex with him either.
Then I met Mark. Sexually, things were absolutely incredible. I never liked oral sex before Mark. I never had multiple orgasms before Mark. He always took his time with me, and it paid off completely. I loved having sex with him, and the more I started to unfold with him, the more everything seemed like a possibility. So I sort of hinted to him about my secret bisexuality until he caught on enough to ask questions and take the lead.
His response was wonderful. Never once did he make it about him. Never once did he mention he wanted a threesome. It was always about me, and I loved answering the questions he would ask. When I felt comfortable enough to tell him what I fantasized about, the two of us would search the internet together, we’d find what I like, and then get get into it pretty heavy. It was a total win-win. Never once did he ever deny me to opportunity to explore myself. And finally, one day, all on my own, when I asked him to take me to a lesbian bar, he was willing.
That’s where I met her. Lisa. Mistress Lisa. The bar was fine. Fun in fact. There were a lot of girls there, obviously, but a lot of pretty femmes. That’s exactly what I was looking for. Someone pretty, like me. Someone that understood why skin had to be soft, why waxings were necessary, and why skirts and lingerie were made.
My eyes wandered all over, soaking in the scenery. I was surprised at how suddenly I felt weird having Mark there, though. It wasn’t like he was making me uncomfortable, but he kept staring, paying attention to every move I made. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad he was there, I needed the support, and there is no way I would have went on my own. Once I got comfortable though, I found myself sneaking peaks around the room, hoping he wouldn’t notice, and when he got up to got to the bathroom, I finally took a breath of relief.
The sweetheart that he is, put his hand on my thigh, just under my skirt and gave it a light squeeze.
“You going to be okay?” he asked.
“I think so.” I replied, hoping not to give too much away.
I don’t know why, but I watched him walk away, I guess to make sure he wasn’t going to turn around and stare at me from a distance.
Months and months later though, when I was pinned up against a wall with Mistresses’ strap on buried deep inside me, Lisa whispered that she had been watching us all night, and was waiting for a moment when he would walk away, and she could walk over. When he headed for the bathrooms, she saw her chance, and typical of her style, she took it. The instant she told me that, I came hard. But again, I’m getting too far ahead of myself.
So back to the moment when everything changed. Just as I watched Mark slip into the crowd, over his over his left shoulder, she appeared. First her face, her eyes locked right with mine. She made me watch her place her hand on his waist as she slipped past him, excusing herself for the tight space that was between them. Then she immediately looked back at me to see if I caught the moment. Of course, I hadn’t taken my eyes off of her.
She was absolutely gorgeous. Well, at least I think so. Obviously tall even without the heels. No one that is 5’9″ should be permitted to wear a skirt like that, but she did. Her top was tight, and her breasts were not small. Her brunette hair was long, and she walked with this… I don’t know how to describe it. She moved like a model, but seemed more business and professional like. She just had a very sexy and smooth gait about her, and I was hooked as she continued to stare me down.
She maintained eye contact with me until she got about 10 feet away, and without anybody else between us, that’s when she looked down at my legs, crossed, exposing more than what I probably should have been in a girl bar, but at this point I was far from self-conscious. She had utterly frozen me, and the only thing I could do was keep staring at her face, and wait for her eyes to meet mine again.
I hadn’t felt this flushed in a long time, and was grateful for the dimly lit room. My throat became thick, I don’t think I could swallow if I tried, and even more sure I couldn’t speak, but I knew one thing for certain. For all the girls prancing about the bar, and for all the reasons why I watched girl/girl porn, and for all the courage it took to confess to Mark about how I liked girls, she was the one thing I hoped to find tonight on this little adventure I was taking.
She got closer to me, and leaned in to my ear, making sure that the dance music wouldn’t interfere with our first hellos.
“Don’t lose this,” She said, and as she placed her hand on my shoulder, she slid a napkin into my hand. I clutched it with my fingers, then as quickly as she walked towards me, she walked away, disappearing back into the crowd. I tried to look for her, and couldn’t see her with all the heads bobbing up and down on the dance floor. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to staring at her ass as she walked away. God, she was so hot.
“See something you like?” Mark asked as he took his seat. He had a sly grin on his face, and with a gesture pointed out that I was sitting as tall as possible in my seat, craning my head out towards the audience. “Thought I saw someone I knew, and I got worried,” was all I could manage. I wasn’t quite sure how to tell him that now I really wish he wasn’t there, and now, I really wanted to go after this woman, and try and find her in the crowd.
He tried to make conversation with me, but my head was swimming. I couldn’t think straight, and I was afraid he could tell. Besides all that, there was a note in my hand, and I was just dying to read it.
The waitress soon came by, and as he ordered another round, I excused myself to the bathroom, hoping that I could catch my breath, and also that she might see me and follow.
I took my time. Looking around the floor, trying to not be obvious. I didn’t want Mark to take more interest than he needed to at this point. I also didn’t want her to catch me searching for her. Nothing though. She was no where to be found. I waited in a ridiculous long bathroom line, and when I finally made it into a stall, I quickly unfolded the napkin.
“Would love to talk when he isn’t around. Lisa.” Her number, thankfully, was written clearly below her name.
The rest of the time in the lounge was uneventful. The drink we ordered turned out to be the last of the night. It was clear Lisa wasn’t in there anymore, and I really was getting bored with Mark stealing glances my way, hoping he was going to see something in my face that I was trying very hard to hide.
I would lie if I didn’t admit sex that night wasn’t better than ever. As usual, we put on some girl/girl porn, and I climbed on top of him, and rode his cock slowly while my face was glued to the screen. I could care less what we was on the TV, though. The image of Lisa walking across the floor was all I could see. And in my mind’s eye, I played back when she walked past Mark, and that’s when I realized, she wasn’t slipping past him while I watched… she was pushing him aside. Then she walked towards me along the very path he took while walking away. It was so clever, and, very hot, and that’s how I had sex that night….thinking about Lisa while Mark lay underneath.
I could go into the boring details of how I didn’t call her for a while. But it’s true. I found excuses every step of the way to not call. Everything I wanted was on a piece of napkin right in front of me, and all I had to do was call and ask for Lisa, and I couldn’t because I was too scared. So instead, I masturbated every chance I could, fantasizing about what she was like, and if she was as dominant as she seemed, and whether or not we were going to hit it off. I so didn’t want to blow this one. She was just too perfect.
Finally, on a Saturday afternoon, while sitting in my place alone, and after a couple glasses of wine, I pulled the number out, and dialed. After a quick introduction about who I was, I could feel myself grow nervous, and Lisa picked up on it immediately.
“You’re nervous aren’t you.” She said.
“yes.” Was all I could manage.
“How about we play a little game then. I ask all the questions,
And you answer with a simple yes, or no. Think you can do that?” She asked.
“Yes,” I said, and already I could tell I was losing it.
“Good girl. See how easy this is?” Lisa asked seductively.
I melted as I whispered out another, “yes.”
“Oh, you like this game, I can tell already.”
Over the next hour or so, she asked me all sorts of questions, leading me down a path that was overwhelming. I was so hot, as she asked me about my past, and my sexual history. She easily found out I had never been with women before (and groaned her approval at hearing this. That was really hot. I never heard a woman groan before, and it was so hot)
Later on she asked me if I stared at her ass when she walked away, and when I said I had, she asked if I liked it, and if I was prepared to learn how to worship it properly. I thought I replied properly to her questions, but I knew I revealed too much when she said, “moaning is not a reply, young lady. It’s either yes, or no.”
I remained quiet. “Young lady?” She said.
“Yes.”
“Have you ever told a woman how much you like her ass before?”
“No.”
“Be a good girl. Tell me how much you like mine.”
And I did. And then I answered every other question that followed after that, which meant I admitted I wanted to learn how to worship her pussy, and use my tongue properly on it. I also said yes to the fact that I would want to wear sexy things for her, and even would wear whatever she wanted me to, to which she replied, “Good, because I love orchestrating fashion shows for my pets.”
And then, without warning, she abruptly ended the phone call and hung up. I thought I did something wrong, and wondered if I was going to hear back from her. For hours I tried to figure out what I did wrong, until I finally received a text. “Will call you soon, you sound so very sweet.” That’s when I realized this was all part of her game.
For weeks and weeks, phone calls is all it was. That is all that ever happened between us. Slowly, over time, Lisa figured out when I was alone, and only called at these times so we could speak at length, without interruptions. She learned so much about me, and we talked about lots of things, but obviously, no matter what we talked about, I always wanted her to shift the conversation back to sex.
This seduction from Lisa, this slow dance, of only phone calls (she kept saying the internet would be useful soon enough), was really beginning to take its toll, and I couldn’t believe that she never once asked me my name. I knew it was part of her game though, so I help back offering, assuming the right time would present itself sooner or later.
She was so good on the phone though. She varied her voice from calm and easy, to electrically aroused. Each conversation built on the last, and I opened up more and more to her carefully placed prodding and poking. I looked forward to her calling more than anything else. I fought hard to not send her too many texts. I didn’t want to come off as needy.
Once she asked me to go to my underwear drawer and describe what my panties look like, and then she asked me to pick out my favorite pair and wear them. Another time she asked me to describe my lingerie collection. Every now and then, she asked me to dress in something while we talked, and even made me wear heels, so she could hear them click on the wooden floor of my apartment as I walked back and forth.
Then she started to ask about Mark, and exactly what it was he knew. I told her that he doesn’t know about any of this. That he knew I liked girls in so much as I fantasized about them, but not that I met one. Out of the blue, she took my surprise, when she asked how big Mark’s cock was, and it made me laugh.
“Seriously? You want to know that?” I replied.
“Of course I do. How big is it?” Lisa said.
“He’s big and thick.”
“Does he make you cum?”
“yes…”
“hard?”
“I guess, yeah.”
“Who do you think can make you cum harder, Mark with his big, thick dick, or me with
my strap on?”
The way she asked the question was so matter of fact. She didn’t once try to slant the question in her favor, almost like she preferred me to answer truthfully.
“I don’t know.” I answered honestly.
“Oh babygirl,” Lisa said, “I can promise you, you won’t believe how much more willing and needy you will be to suck on my strap on than his real cock. Just you wait.”
Her words got me soaked again. I rubbed my pussy a little harder through my panties, and breathed heavy in the phone. After all, she didn’t ask a question, so I didn’t have to say yes or no, but I still wanted her to know I was listening.
…and that’s when Lisa hooked me…
“Pretty girl, if you promise me you will never tell him about me, and that we can be a secret forever, I will let you cum for me right now, while I lay back and listen to your moans and stroke the very big strap on I have attached to my waist right.”
I lost it. Literally. For weeks I had secretly been playing with myself while talking, and there had been no discussion of orgasms. I’d even catch myself to not moan and give myself away. I wondered if she and I were ever going to get to the next phase, and here it was, and all I had to do was never tell Mark about her. I easily agreed.
“Touch yourself for me, babygirl. Tell me how good it feels.”
And it did, it felt so good, and weeks of tension quickly built in me to where I needed to get off right away.
“You need to cum already?” She asked.
“Yes.” I moaned.
“Well that’s not going to happen, not until we get some more questions out of the way. Is that clear?”
I lay on my bed, one hand pulling my panties to the side, the other slowly teasing my clit so I could not establish a rhythm that would push me over the edge.
“Yes, that’s clear.”
“Good girl. Now, do you like sex with Mark?”
I hesitated for a second.
“Answer the question, young lady.”
“Sorta.” I stammered.
“What does that mean?” She asked.
“I did before all of this. I’m not sure he can do what you do.”
“Oh baby,” Lisa answered confidently, “he never, ever will. Do you understand that?”
“yes.”
My pussy was on fire now. I pressed into my clit with one finger while pulling up and back with the next, grinding against them as hard I could, and feeling my hips uncontrollably twitch.
“Do you promise to only think about me when you have sex with him?”
I got completely silent, rubbing my clit harder as I thought about how I was going to be able to imagine worshipping her ass while his cock was in my mouth. It was overwhelming, and I loved it.
“I hear you moaning, but you didn’t answer the question.” Lisa said. “Do you promise to only think about me when you have sex with him?”
“Yes” I said.
“And when he cums, do you promise to say to yourself, ‘when Lisa straddles my face and squirts all over me, it will always feel better than when mark cums inside my pussy.”
“Oh my God, please let me cum!” I begged.
“Answer the question.” Lisa replied sternly.
“yes. Yes I do. Please let me cum.”
“you may.”
And I did. Hard. And it was hot. I came again, and again, which is what I do whenever I get really turned on. Lisa kept telling me how pretty I sounded. She promised that in person it was going to be so much better. She made me admit I was hers, admit I wanted to be her pet, and admit I loved having a Mistress in my life.
I know why she was doing all this phone. It was my first time. I had never served a woman before, and never been with one either. She wanted to make sure that my fantasies were transitioning into a reality that I would enjoy just as much. So she took her sweet time getting me there. That way, when I finally stood in front of her, I would feel no nerves. I hated that she was doing it, but I didn’t hate why she was doing it, and deep down, I was grateful for her approach.
We hung up the phone that night, and I lay in my bed, completely turned on, and a total mess. I wanted nothing more than to be with her. She kept promising me we would get together soon, and at the same time, never made a specific date. It wasn’t enough though, these telephone conversations, and on top of that I hated the feeling of being alone after she and I hung up.
After this phone session, I got up from the bed to get some water. I picked up my phone, and walked into the kitchen, getting ready to text her a little thank you for the orgasm I just had, but as I typed it, a text came in from her.
“Wondering if you would like to do a little shopping with me next week.”
I stopped in my tracks. My heart skipped a beat. I grabbed water then ran back to my bed and took my vibrator out of the drawer. With one hand I read her text, while with the other, I rolled that vibrator over and over my clit, getting myself off six more times before finally texting back, “I’d love to.”
To be continued…
end PART I.