Take Me: A Collection of Submissive Adventures

Is this what all our shared looks and unaddressed attraction had done? And did I want this to go forward?

I exhaled, hearing the shiver in my breath. Then inhaled deeply like I was doing yoga and I had my answer. Yes. This was what I wanted. We were the only ones here and I’d been fixated on this tall, bulky, blond man for ages. His eyes were the colour of seawater and the scar that ran through his left eyebrow never failed to make my pussy wet.

‘A gypsy princess,’ I stammered.

‘What do you want to do on this bed, Miss Maggie?’ He stopped kissing me but his hands slid around my waist and splayed, and his palms rested over my waistband. His fingers pointed down and brushed the top of my sex. My clit thumped along with my pounding heart. I was so wet between my legs I might be embarrassed if I didn’t want him so badly.

I wished my gypsy bed was out there. Layers and layers of thick padding and bright fabric. Because I’d want him to fuck me on it. Out in the cool night air under the navy-blue sky, pinpricked with white stars.

‘What would you do on this bed?’ He unsnapped my pants. One snap, two snap … and then he put his hands under my blouse. Not high up, just along the stripe of skin above my waistband. I made a mewing sound so full of need my cheeks blazed with shame.

‘I would read.’

‘And?’ Those hands slipped a bit higher. Cool night air rushed in through the dilapidated screen door and licked at my exposed skin.

‘And sleep.’

‘And?’ Higher still. Brushing along my ribcage so that my skin pebbled up in gooseflesh. My body was simultaneously hot and cold, light and heavy.

My breath shivered just like my body and I said, ‘And … other things.’

I felt him smile against my hair and his fingers tickled up along my skin and cupped my breasts. He was brave and I was willing. ‘Would those other things be … maybe … fucking?’ When he said that, John pinched my nipples hard through my sheer bra.

My body jolted as if filled with an electric current and he took that moment to press himself against the back of me. I could feel his cock, hard and impressive, riding the split of my bottom. ‘You know, boss lady, I’ve been watching you for quite a while.’

I swallowed convulsively, trying to keep my wits about me. He was scrambling my brain. Touching me, kissing my neck, rubbing himself against my willing form. ‘I know.’

He chuckled. ‘Do you?’

‘I do, because …’ His warm, rough hands pushed up under my bra, forcing it out of the way, and cupped my now naked tits.

‘Because?’

‘I’ve been watching you back,’ I finished. Time to be brave back, Maggie, I scolded myself. Because, under all my nervousness, I wanted this. Very much.

‘Oh, really?’ But we both knew he was aware. He walked me forward to the screen door that looked out onto the barely illuminated square of my wrecked deck.

Who knew who was watching? Who knows who could see us?

It was all irrelevant, though, because I was trapped between his big strong arms and he was sliding his hands down my sides, stroking my belly, pushing his long fingers under my waistband and into my panties. One fingertip found my clit and I grew tense in his arms from the sudden friction.

‘Shh-shh-shh, boss lady,’ he said. I stilled, going soft in his embrace. My head rested against his shoulder and I felt the bunch and dance of his biceps moving as he manipulated his fingers lower and slid one into me. John curled that finger just so and I heard myself purr in response.

We were utterly silent, the outside chatter of the city filtering through the fine screen door. I was close enough to the door that if I stuck my tongue out, I’d be touching it. He wanted me to see out, or he wanted someone to see in. A thrill shimmered in my gut and I gasped when he drove a second finger into my cunt and flexed his fingers again.

‘See, if you had that bed, I’d start with this. I’d get you on that bed and trap you against me and I’d fuck you with my fingers until you gave it up for me. A sweet little orgasm where I could feel your pussy spasm around my hand and watch your face when you came.’

Despite the cool air from the door, I felt like I was suffocating. There wasn’t enough air – or I couldn’t get it fast enough as he shoved a third finger in and curled the bundle to my tender inside flesh.

‘I never –’ I started but then my words turned into a long exhalation as he pushed just a bit deeper and his palm banged against my clitoris.

‘Never what?’

I shook my head as he moved a little faster, a little rougher now that I was so damn wet.

‘Never what?’ he asked again as my body gave that first greedy clench of an approaching peak. That first tight grip of an orgasm on the way.

‘I never come this way,’ I groaned, sagging in his arms shamelessly as I did just that. My pussy rippling and milking at his thrusting fingers until I was shaking as if I had a fever.

‘That was a pretty strong never,’ he said. He shoved my jeans down to my knees and then bent to push them lower. My panties got dragged along with them and I found myself bare from the waist down in the torn-apart kitchen of my future home. Facing a screen door that was nothing but a tall spying window for the darkened city.

He pushed me forward and I went. His tented fingers shoved the squeaky old door open and we were out on the deck. It sort of groaned when our weight hit it and I yelped. ‘What is that?’

‘That is dry rot,’ he said, moving me so that I stood where my future gypsy bed would be.

‘Oh my God, go in. We’re going to die.’

‘We’re not going to die,’ John said, turning me towards the whitewashed wall. He put my palms up on the wall and pressed against me again. My heart was a palpable thing in my temples, banging away like it needed to escape. His zipper was loud to me even over the night sounds and I felt the hot bare skin of his cock run from the small of my back down the crack of my ass and back up again.

He shifted his sizeable bulk and the porch creaked. ‘I can see the ground through some of the boards,’ I wheezed. I was scared, but I was also excited.

The thought of him fucking me here was beyond a turn-on. The thought of us plummeting to our deaths … not so much.

He pressed himself against me and reached around to grab my breasts. He pinched and squeezed with the perfect amount of chaotic pressure to leave me breathless. We’d been dancing around each other for what felt like ages. Glances and smiles, but sometimes just ignoring each other because we weren’t supposed to go there. So when he trapped my nipples tight between his fingers, I sighed long and lusty.

‘Tell me no and we can be done. Consider that hand-induced orgasm a gift, on the house.’

I didn’t let my mind pick at the problem. I pushed back from the wall and turned fast. He gave me slack to let me move, probably assuming I was backing out. Instead, I grabbed his face in my hands and stood on tiptoe. Something cracked and I whimpered, but just kept kissing him. I found his cock with my hand and circled my finger around him, squeezing so that he made a desperate noise this time.

‘I don’t want to change my mind. I’m in. I’m scared we’re going to crash and die but I’m also scared to miss this chance.’

His fingers dipped into me again as if it were a test. Finding me still soaked, he grunted with pleasure. ‘Stay right here.’

And there I stood, hands wrestling each other nervously as I waited. The city whispered around me, bright lights from the harbour just a mile away as the crow flies, winking merrily. I scanned the windows to see if any of my neighbours might be spying on my current state of confused undress.

He came back, the porch shuddering as his weight hit it. He held an ice chest. When he motioned with his head for me to move, I scuttled towards the house instead of the outer rail. That way, when the whole dry-rotten mess came tumbling down I could dive madly for the door.

‘Live and laugh, and fuck on the edge of danger,’ he said, chuckling. But then, ‘I’m only kidding. I promise you it will hold.’

I wasn’t sure what emotion was winning the war in my chest at the moment. My yammering anxiety or my shouting arousal. He patted the ice chest and said, ‘Sit.’

‘I –’

‘It’s a bit short,’ he said, encircling my wrist with his thick fingers and moving me when I remained frozen. ‘But we can pretend it’s your gypsy bed. And I can show you what I’d like to do to you, boss lady.’

‘How long?’ I blurted.

He put my hand on his cock and said, ‘Well, I’d like to say about nine –’