I could continue on in journal style, but I think it would be a lot more fun if I give you a more… fictionalized version. Snippets, scenes, and stories that are, if not 100% accurate, pretty close. I’ve definitely had to fill in the gaps in my memory sometimes, and I’m sure the dirty talk isn’t exactly the words we said, but it’s pretty close. Richard has definitely said all of them in some combination or other.
So we’ll start with our first time…
The night before, Richard and I had spent some time without Nick. It was all public stuff. We had some gifts to give to a mutual friend, so I picked him up, and we went over to her apartment. But with the pandemic and everything, it was a quick, socially distanced visit. Even so, she realized how much alike Richard and I were. It was uncanny. Although he had interacted with her online before, they hadn’t spent much time together in person.
It had been nice to be able to talk with Richard without anyone else around. We had been skirting lines for a while. I wasn’t supposed to cyber with anyone, and we came…close. Very close. But we hadn’t totally crossed that line, at least.
I had lingered over slightly deflated tires, taking my time pumping them up with my portable pump. And then I had to go inside and wash my hands, of course.
We talked a lot, and we hugged, but we didn’t kiss. And we didn’t cross any lines.
“I want to go write at Richard’s,” I told Nick that morning. He looked at me with narrow eyes. “I can’t get anything done here.” Our house was always busy, especially during the lockdown where no one had anywhere else to be.
“Okay,” he said. I couldn’t tell if he was actually okay with it or not, but that was typical. He didn’t express himself well.
I said that I would be back in time for dinner, packed up my stuff, and off I went. Richard and I did a pretty good job of focusing on our writing and following the rules. Mostly.
On one of our breaks, he backed me up against the big chair with an ottoman, and I slipped and fell onto the floor. It wasn’t my first time falling. I fell a lot, so it was okay. But he was concerned, and he went down onto the floor with me. I was looking up at him in wonder. He was on top of me, his hips pressing me down to the floor.
It was hot. It was so hot that I couldn’t stand it. I started gasping for air, not actually having trouble breathing, but just so aroused that I felt like I couldn’t get enough air.
“Are you okay?” he asked, pulling back suddenly.
“Yes, why?” I asked, confused.
“You’re having trouble breathing.”
“No, I’m fine.”
He looked at me with concern on his face, but he seemed mollified by my protestations. “I’m just trying to be a good Dom,” he said.
“You aren’t supposed to be my Dom!” I protested.
We grinned at each other. We hadn’t meant for it to happen. To this day, I’m not sure how it happened at all. But it did. We hadn’t done anything real or in person, but it was a feeling that was there nonetheless.
“Well, if you’re fine,” he said, bringing his face in close, his lips right by my ear, “then I have no reason to let you up, do I?”
“No,” I whispered.
“You should kiss me,” he growled in my ear. “You know you’re going to do it. You can’t control yourself around me. Stop pretending you can.”
He paused, letting the words hang in the air between us. I wanted to protest. I wanted to tell him he was wrong. But he wasn’t wrong. He was absolutely right.
I grabbed the back of his head and dragged his lips against mine. It was a hungry kiss, full of passion, lust, desire. I wanted more, so much more.
But no. This had to stop. I had to be good. I wasn’t supposed to be lying on the floor underneath him. I was supposed to be behaving. But I kissed him anyway. And when he had had enough, he let me up because he was right-I had no control when it came to him. It had to be his choice, not mine. I wasn’t going to tell him to stop. I would have done anything he wanted, and we both knew it.