"Say again?" His voice was soft and teasing.
She was clearly embarrassed. She looked down at her dessert plate and said, almost in a whisper, "Please."
"Say it again." His voice a bit more commanding.
The small noises of the restaurant had faded completely behind the rushing sound in her ears.
She stared at her half empty plate and mumbled an unconvincing, "No."
"No?" he asked in a playful tone, knowing he'd tapped into a most secret place.
"Not really," she said with a trembling voice, "that is, not exactly."
"Explain." he said almost sweetly while increasing the tempo of his finger movements through her now squishy flesh.
They had met at a political fund-raiser. Sarah was a beauty from the local college. She was doing volunteer work for the campaign. Jason was a donor. He was tall, dark, and handsome. She was rather surprised to discover how wealthy he was. He seemed rather young to have so much money. She also thought he was a bit arrogant, if charming. He asked her out and she surprised herself by saying yes.
Sarah was even more surprised that their first date had gone so well. He had been a perfect gentleman and they'd had a great time. Within a month she had shared his bed and was again surprised to find he was an excellent lover. She'd somehow expected that with his good looks and money he'd be a dud at lovemaking.
Then the other shoe had dropped. On the third night, when making love, Jason pulled some soft ropes out of nowhere and asked if she'd like to 'play a little game.'
She was very nervous; almost scared. But she also found -- and this was the greatest surprise of all -- she was tremendously turned on by the idea. They played. It was great. She wanted more.
By the end of a few months their relationship had reached the point where they were taking their sex games out in public.
Dinner was at a very expensive and exclusive restaurant overlooking the bay. The lighting was subdued, the mood being set by moonlight reflected on the water and a small candle flickering on the table. There was soft romantic music playing in the background.
The food had been sensational. The other diners were absorbed with their own meals and conversations. Jason's fingers were gently sliding through the moist folds of Sarah's womanhood under cover of the long tablecloth. He had made her come to dinner in an expensive evening gown and no panties. Soon after ordering he had slid a hand under the table and hiked her skirt up into her lap. He had been toying with her privates and with her passions ever since.
Then there had been those questions. Idle conversation when anyone was within earshot punctuated with a whole series of personal, confidential, and often embarrassing questions when they were alone. That was the game. 'Had she ever faked an orgasm?' 'How often?' 'Why?' She was obligated to answer truthfully and had been doing so.
'Did she like giving head?' 'What did she like best about it?' 'What was she thinking that first time she asked him to do her from the rear?' That was a big one. She had always had a strange curiosity about anal sex, but she'd never worked up the nerve to ask any of her previous boyfriends to do it that way. With Jason it seemed an easy and almost natural request. And it turned out to be even better than she'd imagined.
'How long had she known she was a bottom?' 'Why did she like it so much?' 'What did she want to try that they hadn't already done?' She found, without much surprise, that having to answer these embarrassing questions in this public place was turning her on tremendously. Her pussy had been slightly moist when they'd started. It was quite damp now. She was afraid the back of her gown must be getting a wet spot and worried it would show when she got up to leave. She was very grateful for the dim lighting.
Then came the question she had been passionately dreading. It had really struck a nerve and she had done a miserable job of trying to hide the fact. 'Have you ever had sex with another woman?'
She had somehow known the question would be asked sooner or later. A part of her had actually been looking forward to it.
Jason knew early that he liked bondage and domination games. But finding playmates who shared his passion wasn't easy. When he first started dating he'd found only one. Then his father died and left him a large successful company and a fortune in cash and stocks. That made things considerably easier. And he'd developed an instinct. Over time he'd learned things to say and questions to ask when talking with new girls. More importantly, he'd learned how to interpret their answers. Now about one of every three girls he dated ended up being added to the growing list in his little black book.
And being rich he wasn't obligated to play by the same rules as, what his father had called, 'the little people.' He wasn't monogamous and didn't pretend to be. He was, in fact, very truthful to his playmates about his other partners. Those who could live with it did so. The others left. And still his list of names grew.
Sarah had been quite a find. She was a tall girl with a vaguely middle-eastern look. Something in her shape and bearing reminded one of a belly dancer. But her skin tones weren't dark. And her long wavy hair was such a light brown it almost looked blond. All in all, Jason thought she was quite a treat. And then to discover her deep capacity for submission.
He thought about her non-answer as he continued to stroke his finger over her clit. Even in the unclear light he could tell she was blushing furiously. "Go on, explain," he again prompted.
Sarah was stuck and knew it. "I... That is, I've never actually been with another woman."
"But you think about it?"
She flushed even deeper and nodded her head.
"You think about it a lot. Don't you?"
Bingo! He'd hit the mark. Sarah, still looking down, closed her eyes and said, "Yes, sir."
"My, my, my,... you like women," Jason mused, "... and you like to be dominated." His finger slid across her engorged clitoris as he spoke. Sarah unexpectedly tripped over the edge and orgasmed right at the table, just as the waiter was walking up with a carafe to freshen their coffee.
"Please pardon my friend," Jason explained, "she has asthma."
Their lovemaking that night was the best ever. There was an intensity Sarah had never before experienced.
Then she didn't hear from Jason for the next two weeks. She didn't know if she'd done something wrong. If the whole thing was over. Or if he'd just upped and died.
She was moping around her dorm room one night when the phone rang.
"Are you free Saturday night?"
"Jason, where the hell have you been?"
"Busy," he said brushing aside her question as well as her implied question. "Are you free this Saturday?" he asked with a little more iron in his voice.
She was tempted to say 'No' just to get back at him for leaving her hanging. But instead answered meekly. "Yes, sir."
"Good. My place, 6:45 pm sharp, informal attire, but look nice. Eat a snack before you come, dinner will be late." He paused. She said nothing. "Oh yes," he continued, "and don't beat off between now and then." The phone went dead.
Part of her was furious at this cavalier treatment. But she was also quite turned on by it. Her panties were very damp indeed. She hadn't felt like having sex for over a week. Now she most certainly did. But she couldn't beat off for the next five days. Sarah felt like howling in frustration.
Jason lived alone in an impressive penthouse apartment in the business district. It wasn't even a penthouse in the regular sense. That is, it wasn't part of an apartment complex. It had started out as a temporary residence for his father, who quite literally 'lived the business.' He had it set up using the entire top floor of his corporate headquarters.
When his father died, Jason made sure the company continued to thrive. Knowing he had no head for business, he'd done a good job of hiring excellent managers to run things. Aside from the occasional public event he was obligated to attend, he stayed out of their way and let the cash roll in. The enterprise grew. Soon the corporate headquarters had moved to a larger and more impressive building in a neighboring city. Jason expanded and converted the top two floors of the building into a rather flamboyant bachelor's pad. The 28th floor he reserved as a buffer and a kind of storage facility against his future needs. The rest of the building had been converted to office space.
All of which made for good neighbors. The building was largely deserted nights and on weekends.
There were security guards to guard his security. There was a maintenance crew to deal with maintenance. And there was a discreet cleaning lady who came three times a week to straighten up, do laundry, and make sure the larder was well stocked.
All in all, it was an ideal life for a young, well-to-do, and rather kinky man-about-town.
Sarah arrived by taxi at the front door of the complex a bit early. The security guards knew her face and let her in. She took the executive elevator up to the 29th floor and waited in the anteroom, killing time and checking her wristwatch. She wasn't sure what this new game was, but Jason had said '6:45 sharp.' Punctuality had become an important part of their game. So she waited. Before leaving her dorm she had called and set her watch by the atomic clock in Washington.
She fidgeted with her purse and waited some more. At precisely 6:44 and 50 seconds she walked to the apartment door. It opened even as she was raising her hand to knock.
.... There is more of this story ...