Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
While on the whole I’d say modern technology is a great thing, it’s amazing the trouble it can get you into without even trying…
A couple of years ago I quit my job and set out to see if I could make my own business work. Nothing much, just a couple of decent ideas and some software I’d chucked together in what little spare time the 21st century offers to a not-quite-30-year-old. Still, it seemed to work and a couple of months ago my little one-man band had grown big enough to go global. Well, European and North America wide anyway. Close enough, right? While the extra business was nice, and the money that was coming in was way beyond anything I’d dared dream about when I started all this the expansion had taken any remaining free time and gobbled it up with flights back and forth from meeting to meeting. It had gotten to the point where I was able to tell what country I was in just by the carpet in the airport departure lounge.
The only positive aspect really (other than the extra business and therefore money and stability of course) was that I could occasionally take advantage of my flights to spend a day or two visiting friends in various far flung and exotic locations. In this particular case I was coming back from a trip that definitely rated highly on the job satisfaction scale. I’d managed to secure a large contract with a European-wide beverage company with the added bonus of spending a couple of very enjoyable days with Rachel, a very open minded old friend who had been begging me to take her up on an offer involving her, a video camera or three and a fully equipped BDSM dungeon for which she happened to have a spare key.
Before I’d left I’d had time to do a rough cut on some of the footage we’d shot and the results were impressive if I do say so myself. She looked fantastic, the film quality was high enough to blow virtually anything you’d find in the ‘professional’ adult entertainment industry away and the action itself was certainly, umm, inventive. Unfortunately her computer had decided to terminate itself just before we did the shoot and she was waiting for her new Macbook to turn up so she couldn’t actually keep a copy for herself. Don’t worry, I assured her, you’ll have the finished cut as soon as I get back home. Heck, it’ll be a great way to christen your new machine. Still, she wanted to keep a copy of the rough stuff (meaning the footage you sick, twisted individual you) so I crunched it down into something that could play on her iPod, stuck it in iTunes and synch’d it up. And that’s really where the problem started…
The flight back to the UK was surprisingly quiet, although for reasons I’ve never understood this particular airline insisted on allocating seats seemingly at random. Oh, I’m sure there was some logic behind it but damned if I could figure it out. Thankfully I ended up with a window seat and, looking around the interior of the 737, I figured I’d have the row to myself as there was no-one in either row before or after mine so I closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep before take-off. That particular intent was thwarted by the slight thud of someone dropping into the aisle seat. Cursing under my breath (okay, there was still a seat between us but wouldn’t it be easier to give everyone as much space as possible?) I turned to assess how big a pain this was going to be… and found my brain in free fall.
It turned out the thud was the result of my new travel companion losing her balance as she was putting her bag into the overhead locker and she’d ended up with one knee on the seat, a hand braced on the armrest, the other on the seat back of the row in front and her breasts pushing her sheer white blouse to bursting point right in my eye-line.
Somehow I managed not to openly drool and forced my gaze upwards to meet a pair of sparkling green eyes in a wonderful, perfect, sculpted face topped by a mane of red hair that hung almost to her waist. She, in turn, was looking straight at my… umm, well, let’s say upper thighs. I caught the quick flicker as she travelled upwards to my face (as I, in turn, followed the ancient male ritual of sucking in the stomach, puffing up the chest and generally trying to look like I didn’t spend far too many hours in a chair of one sort or another) and as her eyes met mine we both realised we’d been caught in our respective mental undressing and shared a grin that was half embarrassment, half enjoyment and all flirt.
“Sorry” she said, in a light Irish brogue that cut straight through me and settled somewhere in the base of my spine to send shivers throughout every nerve ending in my body, “I’m always a bit of a klutz when flying”.
“Not a big fan then?” I asked, trying to keep the mood light and hide my sudden desperate desire to know every last detail of her life.
“Oh no, I love flying.” she laughed, “I just hate the take off and landing parts.”
“I can see how that would be a problem. If it’s any consolation I hate the flying but love the take off xslot and landing parts.”
“Really?” she said, sliding into her seat (and I do mean sliding, I swear she made that simple act a hundred times sexier and more enticing than any move dreamt up in any pole-dancing routine in the history of the world. Or at the very least, Vegas) “But surely you’re more likely to have something fatal happen on the way up or down?”
“True, but at least it’d be quick. Anything happens at 40,000 feet you’d have enough time to write the letter of complaint to your travel agent before hitting the ground. Besides, it’s the only time you really feel the speed, the rest of the time it’s sitting in these seats that aren’t designed for the human spine and checking to make sure blood is still flowing around anything below the waist.”
She laughed at that, a low-pitched combination of giggle and belly laugh that she hid behind a hand, her eyes dancing. “I see your point, though I think I’d be tempted to do something a little more interesting than write a letter with my last moments.”
“Like what?”
“Oh… I don’t know… be the first person to join the mile high club without an airplane?” Her eyes flashed with delight as I felt the blush jump up to my cheeks. “Of course, you’d want to know at least a little about your partner in the record books….. so tell me, what’s your name?” Again that smile, the same mix of daring and embarrassment at being quite so forward and I felt myself relax as we started chatting. We didn’t stop for a break until the plane was more than an hour into the flight.
I’d found out a great deal about her and, I must admit, thought I might just be falling in love. Her name was Karen and, not to put too fine a point on it, she was a geek. An IT Manager by trade I could only imagine the havoc she’d wreak in most IT departments I knew of just by walking through in high heels (well, high heels and a suit obviously. If she walked through in JUST high heels there’d probably be gladiatorial combat breaking out). In a rather sad (but successful) attempt to appeal to the love of shiny things common to all geeks I pulled out my latest toy, the brand new iPod Touch. She immediately started flicking through the menus and I took the opportunity to stretch my legs with a quick comfort break which was almost entirely not an opportunity to feel her legs brush against me as I squeezed past her to get to the aisle.
When I got back something was definitely different but I couldn’t put my finger on what. The look she gave me as she slid her legs just far enough to one side to let me in was definitely different. Where before there had been playful interest now there was… I don’t know exactly, I’d almost say outright desire but there was something tempering it, holding it back.
“So…” she said as I dropped back into my seat “should I make sure not to turn my back on you?”
“Umm, sorry, but I don’t quite follow.”
“Well, it seems the safest option to make sure I don’t find myself a little… tied up?”
My heart skipped a beat at that, mind racing. “Sorry, I’m still not quite sure I’m with you”.
She didn’t say anything, just turned my iPod towards me so I could see the screen and a shiver of dread ran through me as I saw the video of the previous weekend’s activities running in living colour. My mind raced, part trying to figure out how it had got on there and part seeing how to play this. The first was easy enough, I’d autofilled the device from iTunes before setting off that morning and it must have put the video on then. As for the second… well, I’d gotten this far by being honest, and I really didn’t have any other option anyway.
I shrugged, tried to keep the mood light “No, you’re quite safe. That’s something I filmed this weekend with someone I’ve known for… oh, about seven, eight years now.”
“You do this often?”
“Film it? No. This was something we’ve wanted to do for the last three years and it finally came together. If you mean the actual content… yeah, fairly often, probably about once a month if work allows.”
“And you…. enjoy it?”
Something about her voice caught me, it was a question I’d heard before but always with a tone of disapproval. Her question though was more… anticipation? What the hell, no guts no glory and all that.
“Yes, both sides of it. Dominant and Submissive.”
She paused then, looking again at the movie playing out in the palm of her hand. I realised with a start that she was around halfway through the hour-long film which meant she had to have flicked through it to see different scenes as I’d only been gone a few minutes. Without a word she got up and moved into the seat next to me, her left hand covering my right as she moved her lips close to my ear, her right hand bringing the iPod up so we could both look straight at it. On screen Rachel was writhing on a rack as candle wax dripped onto her naked breasts, a vibrator suspended by a rope xslot Giriş just above her pussy and buzzing away, teasing her into a frenzy as her bucking body made it swing with every touch.
“What’s it like?” Karen breathed into my ear, her voice heavy with desire.
I deliberately didn’t turn to face her as I answered, letting her stay detached from the conversation, and what lay behind it, if she wished.
“It’s… incredible. The biggest rush I’ve ever felt, almost like discovering a part of yourself that’s been asleep for years that finally gets a chance to make itself heard.” Her hand tightened over mine as I spoke. “It’s also terrifying, realising that part of you doesn’t just exist but that you revel in it, no matter if you’re the dominating or submitting party.” Her grip was like iron now but she wasn’t backing away. “You’ll find out more about yourself in a single session than in a month of psychologist sessions and that can be a scary experience.” Now I did turn to her, a small smile on my lips as I leant in to whisper to her. “You also cum like you wouldn’t believe.” She laughed at that and slid her arms around me, pulling me into an embrace and I felt her body shaking as she muffled her giggles against my shoulder.
We stayed like that for at least a minute, each enjoying the physical presence of the other, before she spoke again.
“So what now?”
“Now?” I asked, mind racing. “Now it really depends on you lass. I mean you don’t seem to be running away but how far you wan to take this is entirely up to you.”
“Well… let’s say I wouldn’t be totally adverse to some sort of demonstration…”
“Right…” I let the word hang in the air for a minute, thinking through how best do this and coming to the realisation I had no choice but to continue being completely honest. “Well, the first thing we need to do is find somewhere where we can get some privacy. And then we can talk about what’s next.”
The rest of the flight passed in a blur of suppressed excitement for both of us, masked with small talk but that anticipation was impossible to hide completely as the occasional light brush of fingertips on flesh kept working it’s way into the conversation. When we finally touched down at Heathrow we both grabbed our bags and practically sprinted to passport control, going through on opposite sides of the same desk, racing past baggage claim (we both had only carry-on luggage) and straight out the main door… where we suddenly realised we hadn’t actually thought about what happened next.
“Umm, this is going to sound like a stupid question, but how were you planning on getting to somewhere private exactly?” Karen asked.
“Well, originally I was just going to drive, do you have a car here or were you planning on going public?”
“Got my train ticket right here.”
“Well, what’s say we chuck that away and you come with me?”
“My mother always told me not to take lifts from strangers.”
“We’re not strangers, we’ve watched porn together and everything.”
“Good point, lead on McDuff”
A quick shuttle bus ride later we were walking down the rows of stationary cars as I experienced the traditional moment of panic suffered by all air travelers when you’re almost sure you’re in the right place but there’s that little nagging doubt that you actually should be in car park K rather than G.
“You know, I never asked, what do you drive anyway?”
“This” I replied, hitting the remote unlock button and enjoying her moment of astonishment as the lights lit up on the Aston Martin DB9. In fact that moment lasted long enough that she didn’t talk again until she’d slid into the leather seat.
“I’ll say this much, you really do know how to impress a girl.” She stammered slightly as she said it, still a bit surprised (I suspect) that she hadn’t been greeted with a slightly used repmobile.
“In my defence, you’re the first girl I’ve tried to impress via automotive methods for a long time. Besides, it’s gorgeous to look at, fantastic to sit in and…” I thumbed the starter motor and the V12 burbled into life “it sounds incredible.”
“I’ll say!” Karen was actually shifting in her seat a little. “I swear, this must be the world’s most expensive vibrator!”
“Tell you what, you promise not to leave a mark on the seat and I’ll see what I can do to prove you right.”
“Deal!”
A quick flick on the paddle shift and we were off and running on a forty five minute drive where I kept the revs high and the big Aston flying all the way. Occasionally I’d glance over to make sure I wasn’t overdoing it and would be rewarded with the biggest grin I’d ever seen. I had to admit I was having the time of my life and almost didn’t want the journey to end (though another glance at my gorgeous passenger quickly dispersed that impulse).
Soon enough we were safely ensconced in a nice little suite in one of my favorite hotels. And when I say favorite, I mean just expensive enough xslot Güncel Giriş to ensure decent service, clean sheets and a high quality finnish without having to sell a kidney if you wanted to dip into the mini-bar. I’d grabbed a black case that I always carried in the back of my car and dropped it off on the desk as we each grabbed a drink and collapsed onto the sofas in the suite’s living room.
“So what now?” Karen asked, echoing her earlier question while stretching her arms above her head, wrists together as if already bound. She even threw in a slight wriggle as if she was struggling to get free. I took a deep breath and launched into the conversation I knew we’d have to have ever since she made her interest plain.
“Now, we need to talk. You need to understand a few things about what you’re asking for,” I said, deadly serious and to her credit she picked up on that seriousness immediately and sat forward, all thoughts of fooling around on hold for now.
“Go on.”
“Well, think of it this way, there are two main types of BDSM. Actually, that’s massively inaccurate but for the sake of argument it’ll do for now. The first is the stuff you’d see in porn movies, or in film or TV. Yes, there’s bondage and, on occasion, whips and chains too but that’s just props, window dressing. The popular view of BDSM is of something you do to liven up a night in the bedroom, something you can just dip in and out of. It can be fun, hell it can be fantastic, but there’s no real lasting impact from it, it’s just another position you can try with your partner. With me so far?”
“I think so, but I reserve the right to ask questions.”
“Please do. The other type is more of a… lifestyle choice if that makes sense. It’s the same sort of play, although it can become much more extreme than the casual stuff. The real difference is in the mental approach. For casual scenes you’re just playing a role really, and in the back of your mind you always know that nothing’s really going to happen, that at the end of the night the chains come off, you kiss and cuddle with your partner and the next night you break out the edible body paint and give that a go. For lifestyle scenes you end up confronting that part of you that like to be dominant, that likes to be submissive and finding out what it’s like when that side takes over completely. You become consumed in the moment and it changes you. That’s what I do Karen, that’s what you’d experience if you choose to go through with this and that’s what you have to be VERY sure you want if you decide to go any further.”
Her eyes met mine and held my gaze for a long moment before she nodded. “Yes, yes I want to experience that, and I want to experience it with you, tonight.”
“You’re sure? That decision was made awfully quickly…”
“Yes I’m sure.” Her voice was strong, confident and there was no hint of hesitation. Still, I wondered if she really knew what she was agreeing to and thought it might be a good idea to go slowly.
“Okay, then here’s how it will work. First, get on your knees in front of me.” She scrambled to obey and I had to hide a grin at her eagerness. “Good, now I’m going to give you five quick tests. I need to do this to start to gauge your reactions to certain stimuli as I don’t know you well enough yet to work from scratch. You will keep your eyes on the floor unless I tell you otherwise. Test one, remove your blouse and bra as quickly as you can.
To her credit she didn’t hesitate for a moment and within five seconds she was naked from the waist up. God she looked fantastic, her red hair spilling over her shoulders and giving me teasing, tantalizing glimpses of those fantastic breasts and washboard stomach. “Next, pleasure yourself with your right hand, leaving the other on the ground.” Again the reaction was immediate, her fingers snaking under the hem of her skirt and a shudder passing through her body as she started to stroke her clit. “You will continue to finger yourself until I tell you to stop. You will not slow down. You will not cum.” I gave her a minute or two like that, kneeling half naked in front of me, her fingers diving in and out of her pussy which was now so wet I could hear each motion clearly.
As her breathing became laboured I lent forward, running my hands over her shoulders, her skin felt like it was on fire beneath my fingers and I let my hands dip into her armpits before wriggling and writhing all ten fingertips against her bare flesh. She immediately gasped then started to squeal with laughter, head shaking as she tried to splutter a “no” past her lips. She might have managed it too but I sent my hands down her sides, kneading her ribs and sending her into renewed fits. Her stomach and hips gave a similar reaction and I smiled above her, an idea already forming as to her introduction to this lifestyle. Moving upwards I cupped those fabulous breasts, teased her nipples with my thumbs until they were hard and almost throbbing to my touch.
“Look at me Karen.” I commanded and she raised her eyes to mine. As soon as she did I took both nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand and pinched, hard, squeezing the sensitive flesh and pulling away from her body.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32