Chapter 68: In The Room

Saturday August 30, 2008 at 10:30 PM

The Team Hotel Room

Sondra put on a brave face, looked at me and and said, in a low, sexy voice, “I think we’re alone now.” This was about 12 minutes after we arrived at the team’s bedrooms from the party room. We were sharing a shower together. She confessed that she had never taken a shower with a “horny male,” but she did not want me to hold back any of the experience.

When we got to the team’s overnight room and the hallway door was closed I slipped the hardware off Sondra’s wrists. As soon as she was free she kissed me, long and hard, saying that the little bondage scenes during the walk back, with exhibition and a little theatrical abuse with others gawking and pointing while they whispered, was the cherry on the sundae of a great night so far. She could not thank me enough, but with that kiss she wanted to try.

“Playing rough with my tits while I was up against the wall with Phil fingering me was perfect, it was so much more than I envisioned,” she said. “Plus Rose’s obscene kisses ... you and the others wound me up perfectly each time. Thank you for enjoying me.”

When we four got to the room after our little parade with blindfolded and handcuffed Sondra, the other four had already showered and were ready to play. But Rose, Sondra, Phil and I still had some whipping cream on our bodies. With 4 people and 2 showers we decided to share them as couples. Sondra did not leave any choice, she gabbed me leaving Phil to have good clean fun with Rose. Rose did not seem to mind, from their body language I sensed she and Phil were a little more familiar then I expected. He had just made partner so he never had a social overnight with her, and since he was married less than a week it didn’t seem like there had been time for a date. But clearly they were intimates, not strangers. Maybe the gang-bang was the link.

Then I was distracted.

In the shower Sondra and I put our hands all over each other, more or less under the guise of washing. Sondra took the lead, she was not shy about working from my neck down my body with her soapy hands, including my cock and balls like it was a pleasant routine. She was a good actress. Still I could tell she was unfamiliar with the area in general and she was very gentle. I gave her some guidance.

After she did my feet she said it was my turn, but she asked that I treat her “with a little less delicacy” than usual. “Look, I know you would not hurt me intentionally, it’s not your nature. But I want to ‘feel’ more, so could you? Please?”

So I treated her to the same routine, neck to toes, but with a little more vigor. I started by standing behind her, with her leaning forward supporting herself with her hands. That made her feel helpless. Then, when I did her neck, I took her ear in my teeth to hold her in position, then applied a bit of extra force with my hands, it was a very efficient way to get a reading on what she was comfortable with, and what was a little bit more. She was sincerely willing. When I handled her breasts it was more a mauling and less a caress. Plus the nipples got more of the ‘pull and twist’ treatment with a bit of a moan thrown in. Working down, when my fingers entered her - two at once - it was abrupt. I did not hurt her, but there was no real gentleness.

She pressed herself against my hands at every opportunity, encouraging me. “I am thirty and I have never known the touch of a hand that was firm, backed by real muscle. My life has been sheltered, and now I fear I have passed some experiences by.”

When I got to her feet I mentioned that “toe sucking was not on the preference form, but if she was interested...” She was intrigued, but said to be fair, I should ask her again later, after she had been in a few beds with others.

I noticed that there was one crevice she had not washed on me, and out of respect I also left that part of her alone. Otherwise I even delighted in washing her toes, being careful to avoid anything that resembled tickling.

When I finished her toes and stood up her attitude changed, she wasn’t done. We were going someplace else, someplace more serious so she was building courage. She put on a brave face and said, in a low, sexy voice, “I think we’re alone now.”

It is the way my mind works, the five-word phrase was a specific trigger to me, the line from a song, so I went to someplace she did not expect. “That was great song, some called it the first elevated bubblegum music, even though the tone was calibrated to be just the other side of suggestive. Tommy James and the Sholdells, plus their writers and such, were ahead of their time. Did you know that, when the song came out, some radio stations would not play it because of the suggestive tone and treatment of the lyrics? But during the Reagan years it was a dance rebellion. Tiffany was performing in shopping malls in Utah, singing while wiggling for screaming tweens, teenagers, and their mothers, all dancing like innocent 60’s teenagers who were oblivious or didn’t care about the suggestion. I kind of like her version too.”

Surprisingly, it was not what she intended, but Sondra was right with me on my detour, she got what I was saying and knew her music history. “I agree, he was ahead of his time. Covers of that song and ‘Mony Mony’ were both big hits the same month in the eighties ... But that is not what I was asking about. It was a preface to a question I wanted to ask you privately ... what we talked about.”

I could see this was difficult for her, she wanted help crossing another line. Well, based on the cum in her pussy, I was her boyfriend for the last two hours, so I tried to be supportive and nonjudgemental. “Okay, ask away, girlfriend. What can I do?”

“Can I trust you?”

“You must know that is a rather broad question. We really do not know each other that well for the general universal question...” She seemed a little upset that I did not give a simple answer. “For instance, we could not testify in court as a character witness.”

That was a context Judge Stern’s daughter could understand, it calmed her down. “But for an intimate matter...” I gave her a chaste kiss that stretched a bit, then said, “you can trust me about such things. I don’t believe in giving pain to women, without a sincere request.”

We broke apart, now she was more confident about me and was a bit bolder. “Well, the question I want to ask is rather specific and private ... it is well outside the bounds...” She looked at the floor when she spoke, it explained a great deal. “About the thing you did before...”

Ah! She was curious about play with her cute tight little ass. “The finger in back?” I asked. “You really have a very attractive bottom.” The woman was almost as tall as me, and while she exercised and fought to keep her weight down, she did not have the cute little bottom Rose sported.

“Yes, that. Thank you for the compliment. Can I trust you to stop if we start ... start a little play there?”

“Yes, you can trust that I will confine myself to your expressed limits. You should know that most guys are totally unreliable regarding the subject, they are driven my the monkey brain and given a chance will act out of character, especially if they have a chance to put something else in a tight ... Well, it is male nature to feel good plus they are curious. Most female won’t allow ... But there are reasons I am trustworthy. My mother raised me with a special emphasis about things, so I do not have the usual foolish desires to ‘just do it’ that drives many males.”

My answer made her more confident, bolder. “That is good to know. With that in mind, could you do it again? Touch me there ... well, maybe more than a light touch. Maybe you can push in a little so I know what it feels like?”

“You have seen ‘Last Tango...” It was a statement, not a question.

She was relieved by the common reference. “Yes, exactly! You understand, I don’t want the ‘get the butter’ scene ... I would be scared. But I would kind of like to reverse the ‘pig’ scene where Brando tells Marie to ... do that...” she couldn’t say the specific words, “to him.”

As I applied a little soap to my finger I talked about it. “As a rule, I do not do that ... that is I don’t accept a finger like Brando did. Again, it reflects how I was raised. But I don’t mind reversing the roles ... for education or pleasure. Turn around and press the front of you body on the shower wall like Brando did in the movie.”

She did as I asked, we both knew the memorable scene from the bathroom, after Marie trimmed her nails. She turned to the side wall and presented her ass for my finger to explore. “Good. Relax. My fingernails are already short.” She clasped the pipes, bracing against them. I felt a shiver go through her as I gently touched her puckered opening. I kept it light, exploring for both of us, touching without pressing. Just making her familiar with her own nerves and getting on target. I slid my finger up and down along the crack a few times, then back to her pucker. I let my finger slowly trace the circular muscle with a bit of force. “Some people enjoy a tongue, giving pleasure, or getting pleasure ... admittedly there is a strong symbolic component there. That requires a bit more knowledge, prep, understanding and trust by both parties. Let us say that is off the table ... for today.”

“You do that?” She sounded shocked at the thought. But underneath the words her tone said that she would come back to that as a desire. She was curious, and I had basically told her that I might relieve that curiosity.

“Off the table means off the table. Focus on what you feel now.”

She relaxed a bit, the conversation helped. “That does not sound like something I would be interested in.” Her tone was firm but her body language told a different story. “For this, please ... more?”

She was lying, I am trained as a human lie detector and everything - how quickly she responded, the tone of the words, the way her volume varied modulated - it all said she was very interested. Her body said that she wanted it, but did not have the nerve to ask - partially because she was not sure of staying alone.

In any event we were a long way from any of that.

“There is a saying, ‘don’t knock it until you have tried it.’ But moving on, do you think you still want this new experience?” I pressed with my finger a little against the entrance. She stiffened so I stopped. But she fought the reaction, she wanted to know how ‘more’ felt.

“Yes,” she said, with bravado standing in for conviction. “Inside, just a little ... please?” She was trying to convince herself, but her voice held a bit of anticipation that was not there before. She was not really ready, but did not want to back away either.

“Okay, as I push in you will have less discomfort if you also push out. But I don’t expect you to do that, it is not easy for a woman to do with somebody unless they are both very intimate. Our public fuck does NOT count as intimate. Maybe someday. For now, what you might do is relax yourself. Think of the muscles in your body and give your tight little gatekeeper permission to relax a little, to take a break. When I feel that I will begin to push in. Don’t worry about what is inside, the water is running and we both know how things work.”

“I will try,” she said. Like when I first took her, her body was broadcasting both trepidation and desire. There was a sharp intake of breath from her, she thought I would jump at the first sign. But I held back to give her time to prepare herself. She sought to master her own body. She did yoga so she had some idea. I knew that a seed of impatience was also growing in her mind.

She started to relax a few times, only to tighten up again in anticipation. I stayed where I was, my finger at her entrance but not moving, letting her get used to me. I wanted her to trust me, and I knew that waiting was a quick and easy way to earn her trust.