‘So Carla, are you ready?’ Oliver asks.
I take a deep breath and slowly nod my head.
‘Are you sure?’
‘I think so,’ I say.
‘Before we start I need to know something…’ he says.
You may recall that the last time I was here at Oliver’s, he said he was going to help me control my orgasm. I know this is something Ryan has practiced, but in all honesty it never occurred to me to try and do the same, and I’m really not sure what the benefits will be. I know for Ryan it increases the intensity of his climax. I don’t feel as though my climax could get any more intense. Sheesh, the last time I climaxed I fell in a bath!
‘Okay,’ I say. ‘What is it?’
‘I need to know what gets you off… what is it that makes you cum?’
Thinking about it I find I’ve never thought about this either. I guess I’ve always just gone with the flow and when it’s happened then wonderful. If not I’ve put it down to just one of those things.
I climax more often than not, so I’ve always just thought I’m one of those who is lucky enough to be easily stimulated.
I know some girls aren’t.
I know a couple of girls who have never orgasmed… and they’re in their thirties like me.
Richard made me squirt! That was a first.
But was that because I was just really turned on that day?
Or was it because it was Richard… and you know how I feel about him!
Hey! Maybe controlling my orgasm will make sex with Richard even better…
If that were possible.
‘What do you mean, what makes me cum? Sex, that makes me cum.’
Oliver briefly looks to the ceiling. ‘Yes, I get that. Look Carla, some women have more sensitive clits. For others it’s their g-spot. Hell, I once met a girl who could cum simply by having her nipples sucked. Then there are those poor buggers who never cum.’
‘Really? Her nipples? Mine are sensitive but I’m not sure that would work for me.’
‘I know. So…’ he says, still waiting for an answer.
‘I guess I have two types of orgasm,’ I say, still mulling it over. ‘If my clit is stimulated I have a tingly orgasm.’
‘Tingly?’ He says with a laugh.
‘Shush! You asked and I’m answering.’
‘Sorry… go on.’
‘But during sex, which I guess is when my g-spot is stimulated, it’s more intense – a full body experience. I squirted once!’
‘Once? Just once?’
‘Hey! There’s a first time for everything.’
Oliver looks reflective. ‘True,’ he says. ‘Tell me about that.’
I don’t really want to go into too much detail about Richard, about the fact that I like him. Men can be a little fragile and if Oliver finds out I have feelings for Richard he might be a little hurt.
‘It was quite spontaneous, on a sofa, and from behind.’
A look flashes across his face and I realise I failed.
‘I took you from behind last time, and you didn’t squirt,’ he says.
‘No, but I did orgasm,’ I say. ‘Don’t you remember?’
His eyes narrow as though they’re burrowing into my soul.
‘Come on Oliver, there’s no way you could think I faked that!’
‘Okay,’ he says with a chuckle. ‘Either that or I owe you an Oscar.’
Oliver is one of those people who is both likeable and slappable, in the same heartbeat.
He notices me grinding my teeth and grins cheekily.
‘You’re a feisty little minx Carla. I like that in a woman.’
He can also deliver a backhanded compliment with aplomb too!
I shake my head and laugh it off. ‘So, where are we doing this?’
I’m wondering if he’s planning on taking me to his sex dungeon.
‘I think upstairs will be best… in the bedroom. Shall we?’ He says gesturing for me to lead the way.
I’ve often wondered if aspects of chivalry like allowing ladies to go first, was really an excuse for me to check out our behinds. As I’m climbing the stairs with Oliver following behind me, he adds weight to my theory.
‘You know Carla, even with those combat slacks on your backside is really quite spectacular.’
See what I mean about backhanded compliments.
‘I only wear these for working in,’ I say.
‘Compliment the girl and she gets defensive.’
I can tell he’s grinning to himself and I’m guessing he’s trying to provoke me, maybe to get me a little wound up.
In the bedroom I turn to face him, hands on my hips. ‘So, how are we doing this?’
‘Strip,’ he says.
His directness ignites a rebellious fire in me. ‘And if I don’t?’
‘Then I’ll assume you want me to rip those clothes off you. Have you got some spare clothes with you, to go home in?’
I’m wearing my favourite combats, so I do as I’m told.
When I was cleaning earlier I’d noticed there was already some rope on the bed. As he reaches behind me for it he asks me to repeat the safe words.
‘Red means stop. Mercy means ease up,’ I say.
‘Good girl,’ he says. ‘Hands together in front of you.’
He loops the rope round and between my wrists a few times, effectively creating rope handcuffs with loose ends he can use to tie me to his spectacular, but functional bed. I say functional because it’s ideally suited for tying someone to.
‘Lie down,’ he says.
Even though I’m here by my own choice, when he becomes bossy and authoritative all I want to do is resist him.
I lie on the bed and he ties the loose ends of the rope cuffs to head board.
‘I know you didn’t like the ball gag,’ he says climbing off the bed and squatting in front of the bedside cabinet. ‘So we’ll skip that. But I think we’ll try a little more restraint this time.’
As he stands back up he places a lot of rope on the bed beside me, and I mean a lot of rope!
Back on the bed he reaches under my hips, pulling me down so my arms are stretched taut above my head.
‘Knees up, legs open,’ he says.
Being naked with my hands tied up, opening my legs makes me feel vulnerable and exposed but strangely not in a bad way.
Oliver wastes no time tying my knees tied to the headboard bed posts and my ankles tied to the footboard posts, making it impossible for me to close my legs. The excitement of being so completely at his mercy sparks and tingles through me. It makes my face and chest flush. A warm feeling builds beneath my belly making me want to squeeze my thighs together, which of course I can’t. I know I’m getting wetter, ready for the pleasure to come.
Satisfied I’m right where he wants me Oliver climbs off the bed, strips naked and lets his clothes fall to the floor. It strikes me I’ve never seen him do anything quite so… messy.
I do like Oliver’s physique. I might have a fantasy crush on Chris Hemsworth but that’s not so much about his body – I totally love his smile.
Is that weird?
It’s just that he has a smile I feel could warm any ice cold tension in a room.
His smile, yes… oh, and his voice.
I don’t know what it is about the tone of his voice, but it makes me want to drop to my knees in front of him.
His totally hot body is just a bonus.
Oliver’s physique is lean and athletic with a stomach so flat you could cut bread on it.
I’m pleased to see he’s aroused too.
‘Right, let’s get started,’ he says, climbing on the bed.
A shiver runs through my body in anticipation.
Given that I’m tied to his bed unable to move and that his plan is to train me to control my orgasm, I’m guessing it’s going to involve a heavy mixture of pain and pleasure.
He kneels between my legs, his eyes firmly fixed on mine.
‘There’s only one rule,’ he says. ‘You don’t cum or orgasm unless I tell you that you can. Got that?’
I nod without saying a word.
‘Okay,’ he says with a sly grin. ‘Let’s have some fun.’
His gaze moves slowly down my body, like a wolf sizing up prey. His shaft seems to grow harder. He bites his lip as his eyes devour me.
‘Where are you most sensitive?’ He asks, catching me by surprise.
I can’t recall anyone ever asking me that before.
If I tell him he’ll use it to tease me mercilessly and I know it will be absolute torture. I’m not sure I’d be able to take it.
‘Is that a difficult question?’ He says.
I shake my head.
‘The sides of my body and stomach above my hips, and my inner thighs.’
‘Really?’ He says.
I nod, feeling a little embarrassed.
Does he think I’m weird?
‘Here?’ He says, reaching forward and lightly tracing his fingertips down my sides and cross my belly.
I squirm and wriggle at his touch and Oli smiles devilishly.
‘Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,’ he says.
‘You bastard,’ I say, panting.
He teases me with his fingers again only more slowly this time. The bindings on my wrists, knees and ankles digging in as I writhe in pleasure.
Fuck fuck fuck.
My nipples harden and my pussy tingles as his fingers tease and tickle me.
I’ve never understood why that area has such a powerful effect on me.
He places his hands on my chest and claws them down my body towards him. His finger nails catch my nipples before he heads down my sides again.
My back arches and I let out a huge moan.
‘Wow! Aren’t you a sensitive little thing,’ Oli says.
‘And you’re a bastard,’ I say.
It is odd how being teased can make you feel both furious and thrilled at the same time.
He laughs. ‘Now now Carla, there’s no need for vulgarity,’ he says repeating the clawing action over my breasts and down my sides.
This time when he reaches my hips, he slips his fingers under my buttocks and gently drags them over my cheeks towards my aching pussy. He runs his thumbs gently over my outer labia and my hips thrust to meet his touch. His continues over my inner thighs to my hips and I can’t help clenching and writhing, pulling against my bindings, panting like I’m giving birth.
He drags the back of his finger nails up over my midriff and cups my breasts, squeezing them, pushing them together. His index fingers make circles round my large areolas sending electric tingles down to my groin.
‘Is that good?’ Oli asks, even though he already knows the answer.
‘I think that’s obvious,’ I say, trapped in a fabulous fury.
He leans forward taking my breasts into his mouth, moving from one nipple to other, nibbling, teasing them with his tongue and teeth.
I’m aching to pull his head into my soft mounds and his hips into my groin. I want to feel his hardness inside me, filling me, satisfying me. I want to grind my hot little bud into him until I reach the point of no return.
But I can’t.
And it’s excruciating.
Last time Oli trained me to use the phrase ‘my lord’ when talking to him. I decide it’s time to put it into action.
‘Will you fuck me please, my lord?’
He looks up at me, a look of surprise on his face – I guess because I don’t have a history of being that submissive with him.
‘How can I refuse such a gracious request,’ he says, sitting back on his knees.
He grasps his hard shaft with one hand and with his other he runs his thumb over my clitoris. His directness catches me by surprise and I let out a loud moan. ‘Oh god, yes!’
‘You like that?’ He says, running his fingers down between my moist folds and all I want is for him to slip them inside me.
‘Oh yes my lord.’
‘Remember, you don’t cum until I say you can!’
I nod eagerly. ‘Yes my lord.’
‘When you reach the point, you ask if you can cum. Got that?’
I nod again. ‘Yes my lord.’
‘Good girl,’ he says, guiding himself towards my pussy.
He rubs his swollen tip over my love bud making me twitch and pant. Then he slides it between my wet lips. I try pushing towards him to feel him inside me, but I simply can’t move enough.
I’m so wet that as he pushes, he slips easily into me.
I marvel at Oli’s self-control.
It’s clear from the look on his face that he’s itching to pound me and satisfy his own lust too, but he takes his time. He pushes the end of his shaft in and out of my pussy, stretching me each time he enters.
It feels incredible.
The looks on Oli’s face and the little moans he’s emitting tell me he’s enjoying it too.
I lay there, close my eyes and surrender to the pleasure.
The build-up, the helplessness and the teasing have got me so inflamed that it’s not going to take much to get me to the pleasure point. I find myself relaxing into the moment as all the tension slips away from me.
Someone should offer this as therapy!
Oli places a hand just above my pussy, his palm feels warm but not sweaty. As he eases his engorged end in and out of me he strokes my love bud with his thumb.
‘Oh my fucking god!’
‘Is that good?’ Oli asks with an almost malicious but cheeky grin.
My lower body is twitching and jerking from his touch, pulling against my restraints.
‘I’m going to cum,’ I pant. ‘Please, I need to cum.’
Oli suddenly stops everything he’s doing. He pulls out and lifts his hand away, leaving me with an almost painful sense of unfulfilment.
He reaches under one of my legs and with a strength I didn’t know he had he lifts my hips up from the bed.
The first slap on my buttock happens so fast it comes as a shock, making me yelp with surprise.
He slaps my cheek another 4 times before letting my body fall back on the bed.
My urge to orgasm – totally gone.
It all happens so quickly that I feel taken aback. Before I have chance to wallow in the feeling Oli pushes his still hard shaft back inside me and begins pounding away.
He rubs my love bud with his thumb again and it’s not long before I’m at the point of orgasm.
Oli is watching me intently. ‘You’re close aren’t you?’
I nod, panting. ‘So close!’
With that he pulls out and slaps my arse cheek so hard it makes me yelp.
For the first time I contemplate using one of the safe words.
He slaps me again and this time I can’t help myself.
‘Mercy,’ I say. ‘Mercy!’
Oli stops immediately, his eyes flitting between my face and the red hand marks on my buttocks. The safe word seems to have the desired effect and he slaps me three more times, only not quite the stingers the previous two slaps were.
Once again my urge to orgasm totally dissipated.
He thrusts inside me again, this time setting a slower more sensual pace. He leans over me and kisses my neck, while lower down his pubic mound rubs against my clit as our hips grind together.
It feels amazing and it’s lot long before he has me at the tipping point again.
‘I’m going to cum,’ I pant. ‘Please let me cum…’
Oli stops his sensual thrusting and neck nuzzling – he’s still fully inside me, hip to hip. His hard shaft pulses and throbs inside me and it’s stimulating, but not stimulating enough to tip me over the edge.
He lifts his head and stares into my eyes, his face mere inches from mine.
Quietly, sensually he says, ‘control it. Remember the pain you felt when I slapped you. Use that to help you.’
It doesn’t take much to recall the pain as my awareness shifts to my still stinging butt cheeks. It dawns on me why he slapped me so hard. He wanted me to be able to draw on the memory.
The crafty sod!
My urge to orgasm has gone, yet again.
‘I’m good,’ I say.
He nods and pulls his hips back, only this time instead of slow and sensual he really goes for it, thrusting and hammering deep into me.
‘Holy fuck! I’m gonna cum!’
He stops briefly and gives my face a short sharp slap, then he starts slowly grinding into me again.
‘Ow! You bastard!’
The slap did the trick. It stunned me enough to distract me, but I’m so close to the edge…
I’m panting like I’m giving birth trying to hold back.
‘I’m gonna cum,’ I say. ‘I mean it!’
‘Go for it,’ he says.
With that he increases momentum and forcefully pushes me over the edge.
My whole body shakes, pulling against my restraints. I can feel the ropes burning my skin but I don’t give a fuck as the orgasm tsunamis through my body.
I throw my head back and I hear a primal scream leave my mouth.
Oliver doesn’t let up and it’s not long before his back arches as he too throws himself over the ledge of lust.
His back arches as his hips hammer into me, releasing his seed, unleashing his grunting, primal beast.
I’m still tingling as he reaches the end of his climax and slumps onto me.
My eyes well up which takes me by surprise and I can’t wipe them.
We’re both still out of breath and panting. ‘Oli, would you wipe my eyes.’
He pushes back and studies my face. A frown appears on his. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah I’m fine. I don’t know why I’m crying.’
He props himself on one arm and gently wipes my tears away with his other.
‘Hang on,’ he says. ‘Let’s get you out of those ropes.’
He takes a deep breath as he eases his now soft length out of me. He jumps a little as his end pops out.
‘Oof,’ he says with a grin. ‘That’s sensitive.’
It makes me chuckle.
He unties me with the same deftness he used tying me up and it’s not long before I’m free, rubbing and studying the rope marks on my wrists. It strikes me that they look like some kind of tattoo or body modification.
They actually look quite pretty!
We lay side by side, our breathing patterns slowly settling down.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ he asks.
‘Yeah I’m fine. I’m not sure why my eyes filled up.’
‘How was it?’
‘Fucking intense,’ I say. ‘So fucking intense. Much more than I expected.’
‘In a good way?’
‘Oh hell yes!’
We lay quietly for a few minutes, lost in our own thoughts.
Oliver breaks the silence, a frown on his face. ‘You didn’t squirt,’ he says.
‘No, I didn’t.’
There really must be something different between Richard and me.
I turn to face Oli. ‘But no one has ever made me cry after sex either.’
He looks pleased, probably because he’s triggered a new experience for me.
It strikes me that one of the things I’m really pleased about is knowing the safe words worked. When I asked for mercy he listened and acted on it.
I like that.
It means I can trust him.
‘But hey,’ I say. ‘If you ever slap my face again, you and I will have more than words afterwards.’