I'd met her on-line, the way I've met quite a few girls over the last decade. She was an older woman, a recent divorcee, and new to BDSM. She'd read quite a bit about it but hadn't had the opportunity to indulge in her curiosities. In our initial email flirtations I'd offered to show her a bit, and she was into the idea.
I was in an open relationship with the woman I lived with at the time. She was my submissive, I her dominant, but we both went off and played with others as we saw fit. I hadn't bothered in some time - I was busy with work and business around the house, and Abby was the first person I'd taken the time to actually meet in the flesh in months.
We met in a park, a nice public place, and it was a beautiful day. My car was shitting itself so I'd had Abby pick me up. I didn't harbor any expectations towards where the date would go or how it would end. I never do. I was simply there to meet this woman, get to know her a bit, and let her get to know me. This attitude gets me more first date tail than any amount of PUA pseudoscience or ladder-theory bullshit ever could.
I didn't think the date was going particularly well at first. Abby was distracted. Venting. Complaining about her failed marriage, her job woes, her everything. She took a ten-minute call from her mother in the middle of things. I figured that she was just a bit isolated, and had agreed to meet with me because she needed someone to talk to rather than looking for a romantic or sexual connection. Still, almost out of habit, on the way back from the restaurant I slipped a hand possessively behind her head and started caressing the back of her scalp. She seemed surprised at first, but didn't complain or move away.
Imagine my surprise when we returned to my apartment and she followed me up to the door. I hadn't invited her in, or even suggested that she follow, but there she was. I awkwardly introduced her to my girlfriend (knowing and delighting in her jealousy, even though she tried not to show it) and our roommate before hustling Abby into my room.
(Later she told me that it was the hand on the back of her head that had prompted her to follow me)
We made out for awhile, but as her pants came off I paused. "I have a rule for you," I said, thinking that it wasn't too early to show her some aspects of D/s, and I was still a little annoyed that she had just followed me up to my door. "You're not allowed to cum without asking."
"Do you think that that'll be necessary?" she dead-panned.
I didn't respond. This may sound like braggadocio, but I know what I'm doing when it comes to women and their bodies. It doesn't matter. Sex, pleasure, arousal, and orgasm are just tools to further my dominance. Some women have a more difficult time getting off than others, but Abby didn't turn out to be one of them. I think she was simply scoffing at my self-confidence.
I slowed as I worked her jeans off, running my strong hands up her legs and atop her thighs, stroking back to her knees and letting my fingertips trail across her skin. I felt for the muscle under her flesh, half-massaging, half-caressing as I slid my hands back up her legs again, kneading that tendon where the inner thighs meet the trunk. You know the ones. She was enjoying my touch, but I was keeping my hands well away from her panties, at least at first.
After a few more caresses I trailed the back of my hand lightly across the cloth covering her crotch and was rewarded by a full bodied twitch, a response to the unexpected but not unwelcome contact. There's a tempo I like to maintain with my teasing, a gradual rising action interposed with sudden unexpected contact. I worked my fingers in under the hem of her panties, keeping away from directly touching her labia and stroking the skin around it. I could almost taste her yearning frustration for more, the need to be touched, but she didn't say anything.
She was wet. Very wet. I slipped her panties down, off her legs, and to the floor. She clamped her thighs together for a few seconds in what was probably modest shyness before parting them to allow me access. I placed a palm against her pussy, cupping it, feeling her heat. I slid my hand down and back, letting my middle finger trail from her clit to the base of her perenium, parting her lips as it went and coating its tip with her arousal. I sucked her flavor from my hand, giving her a wicked grin and lowering my face between her thighs.
Her pussy was clean, not sweet like my girlfriend's was, or musky like some of the other girls I've been with have been. Neutral, really, almost artificially so. She sighed as my tongue painted broad swaths up and down and between her labia, gasped as my lips caressed her clit. I was feather-light at first, but added pressure as I went, eventually going so far as to slip a pair of fingers inside her, crooked to seek out her g-spot, fucking her while I sucked on her clit.
I could tell she was getting closer and closer as I went down on her, but for once I didn't relent. Normally I'll change things up to get a girl as close to climax as possible without pushing her over, and try to keep her on that brink as long as I can, but she had a Rule to follow. I wanted to make it difficult for her to avoid an orgasm - not that I wanted her to break my Rule, mind you, but I wanted her to be desperate when she asked.
If she'd asked. She didn't.
I kept with her as she came, holding her legs while she road out what looked like an impressive orgasm. As soon as she gave me that slightly glassy and grateful stare, I threw her panties at her.
"You broke the rule. You have to leave now."
"What?" she asked as she sat up, clearly shocked. "You were serious about that?"
I nodded. "You have to go home."
She looked at me. I hadn't even taken off my pants, and my belt was still buckled. "I have a mouth, you know."
"It has to leave too."
She didn't argue, gathering her stuff and leaving. I was kind enough to walk her to the door, but she was still obviously off-balance. Later she talked to a friend of hers who was already into BDSM, and she called to thank me for being so strict with her. She eventually came to realize why it was I'd made her leave.
I saw her again a few weeks later at her place in the suburbs. This time she minded me well enough to ask for permission. I gave it to her... eventually.
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