Welcome to Chapter 19 of my Dominatrix Series! You might want to hop back to Chapter 1 if you haven’t read any of the chapters thus far. It’s a lot of fun! This week, we get to find out how much Mistress Parker likes anal play on her, and maybe they’ll make it to dinner? Read on to find out!
~Jayden
Chapter 19:
Who am I kidding? I love a little anal play. But I’m not willing to give up my position in charge.
“If you’re going to stick your finger in my ass,” I say, pushing my hips down a bit so his fingers start to slide inside, “I’ll expect you to clean me up with your tongue when you’re done.
“Yes, Mistress,” he says, almost panting.
I try to look and see if he’s hard, but I can’t get a good visual, and I don’t want to stop him from going down on me.
He presses his fingers inside me, both in my pussy and my ass, and I groan. It feels so good, and when he starts to lick my clit again, I’m a goner. My orgasm comes fast and hard, and I buck against him until he finally stops licking my clit and lets me breathe.
He pulls his fingers out slowly, tortuously, and I watch him as he licks them clean. His eyes are locked on mine the whole time, and I can’t help but think about how sexy it is that he’s looking at me like that. “Now clean me up, pet,” I direct.
He crawls back between my legs and licks my pussy, getting as much of my juices up as he can. Then he moves down toward my ass, which is almost hanging off the end of the couch. He manages to get a fair amount of it, and it feels good, but I want more.
“Lay down on the floor,” I tell him. He does without hesitation, and I hover over him, lowering my ass right onto his face. He’s probably pretty smothered by me, but I don’t care. He doesn’t seem to care either, as he licks me eagerly.
I love having his tongue on my ass. It feels almost as good as it did on my clit, and I am kind of kicking myself that I’ve never let him do this before. But rules are rules.
And now I’ve broken them.
Again.
I let him up when my thighs start to get tired, but it does give me a good opportunity to see that his cock is straining against his jeans.
I stand up so I’m not pinning him down, but he doesn’t move without my permission. His face is shiny with my juices, and as much as I want to kiss him, it is a bit funny.
“You should go wash your face, pet. I’m going to get dressed.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he says. He disappears into the bathroom, and I pull out the clothes I’d worn earlier in the day. A pair of black jeans that almost look like dress pants and a pink top that’s low cut and flattering. When I wore it with a blazer earlier, it looked professional. Without the blazer, it looks comfortable and casual.
“Where are you taking me for dinner, pet?” I ask when he comes out of the bathroom, his face freshly washed.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
I nod.
“Then let’s go.”
“Wait a minute. Am I appropriately dressed?”
“Yes,” he says, taking me by the hand and leading me out to his car. “I’d suggest blindfolding you just to keep it a surprise, but I somehow doubt you’ll let me do that.”
I chuckle. “You know me too well, pet.”
“Mistress,” he says after a moment of silence.
“Yes, pet?”
“What can I call you in public?” We’d never been out together in a setting that wasn’t kinky. He’d been to my parties and, of course, our private sessions, but never a restaurant.
“Mistress,” I say.
“But what if that’s not appropriate?”
“Ma’am.”
He nods. And truthfully, how often do you need to use someone’s actual name when you’re talking to them anyway?
I want to ask him all my questions, but I’m not ready. I want him to be able to look at me when he answers me. I don’t want to have to talk to the side of his head.
“We’re here, Mistress.”
He’s taken me to my favorite restaurant. It’s a seafood place, but not a chain. A family-owned place. And when we walk inside, the host sees James and says, “Hello, Sir. You do have a reservation, yes?”
“I do,” James says.
The host checks his name on the list and guides us to a private table in a separate room, where we won’t have anyone to overhear our conversation.
James, you son of a bitch, you’ve thought of everything, I think.
J R Vincente 