The Exhibitionist
Page 44

I wouldn’t know until I at least tried. I doubted I’d be able to make myself come, but if they wanted me to attempt it, I was game. I looked over to the padded table, thinking that if I could get on my stomach …
“Standing right here,” Luke said.
I couldn’t help the it ain’t ever going to happen look I threw his way.
“Your submissive appears to lack the proper attitude,” he said to Nathaniel.
“Abigail,” Nathaniel said, “you have two options. You stand there and make yourself come without your hands or I’ll fuck your ass and make you come, but I’ll fig you after.”
I’d had ginger used on me exactly once and that was enough for forever, thank you very much. No figging. I’d try option one.
The image of him taking my ass over the padded table while Luke watched was vivid. I closed my eyes to concentrate on it while I pressed my thighs together, squeezed, and rotated.
“There you go,” Luke said. “Tell us what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking Master has me bent over the table and he’s fucking me with a vibrator. He says he’s saving his cock for my ass and I’m going to be so tight when he thrusts inside me.” I squeezed my legs tighter. “I feel him, his cock is right at my anus and he asks me if I want it soft or hard.”
“What do you pick, Abigail?”
“I say hard, Master. Fucking ride my ass like you own it.”
Nathaniel groaned and I couldn’t help wondering if he was using his hands.
“Then you tell me to reach back and hold myself open for you.” I shifted my legs and with a squeeze, I managed to get just a touch of fiction on my needy clit. “Oh, fuck yes.”
I sucked in a breath and I heard Nathaniel’s choppy breathing behind me.
“You say you have to make sure I’m ready, so you push a finger into me and I beg you to fill me. I need it. I need it.” I rubbed my thighs together. What I needed was a hand. Right the fuck now.
“Finally,” I continued, “you take your cock and push it into me. Not as hard as I’d asked, but not exactly slow, either. You tell me you have to get it good and deep inside and then you’ll be fucking my ass.”
I was so close to my orgasm, it was just within my reach; if I stretched hard enough I could get to it. Funny how I spent all those years working on delaying my orgasm and I had no tricks on making myself come faster. I rubbed my thighs together again, but it wasn’t going to be enough. I needed more.
More.
More.
More.
Nathaniel’s arms came around me and in one move, he pulled me to his chest while slipping his hands under my waistband and finding my clit. “You want more, Abigail? I’ll always be happy to give you more. Come.”
He rubbed the sensitive flesh roughly and I screamed a little as my release swelled up and washed over me faster than I thought possible.
“Again,” he said. And he worked two fingers into me while rubbing my clit with his thumb.
“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God,” I chanted as release two built up.
He was merciless and kept finger-fucking me even as I came around his hand. Panting heavily, I whispered, “Thank you, Master.”
I had just sent my post for the WNN Web site to Meagan the next afternoon when I heard the garage door open. Frowning, I went to see what was going on and smiled when I saw Nathaniel.
“Hey,” I said. “You’re home early.”
“I wanted to change up our routine,” he said, grabbing me around the waist and pulling me close for a kiss.
His lips crushed down on mine and holy hell, I didn’t know what had gotten into him, but I welcomed it. I tightened my arms around his neck and kissed him back.
His eyes were dark with lust when he lifted his head.
I dug my fingers into his hair. “You should change up our routine more often.”
“I’m glad you think so.” He slipped a hand under my shirt and teased my belly. “I called Lynne on the way home. She’s going to keep the kids occupied. Meet me in the playroom in ten minutes.”
We’d been in the playroom the day before, and he’d taken my collar off. Still, I wasn’t about to turn him down. “Yes, Sir.”
Nathaniel was waiting for me inside when I walked into the playroom seven minutes later. That in and of itself was enough to give me pause. Normally, I arrived first. I quickly made my way to him and knelt at his feet. Without the first few minutes by myself, alone in the room, I struggled to get into the right frame of mind.
“Take your time, Abigail,” he said, picking up on my inner turmoil. “It occurred to me, we’ve fallen into somewhat of a routine and I thought it best I put a stop to that.”
Though there was a part of me that craved routine, I knew he was right. It wasn’t that our time in the playroom had become mundane, but I had begun to feel as though I knew what to expect. I would enter, he would meet me, I’d give him a blow job. Lather, rinse, repeat.
“After our first trip to Delaware, we put some rules in place to play more often and they’re working well, but I think there’s still room for us to do better.”
I remained silent, knowing he was right. I loved the fact that he was being more spontaneous and changing things up. The day before with Luke had been different than our normal scene. And him coming home early was very different.
“What are you thinking, Abigail?” he asked.
“That you’re right, Master. We have gotten into somewhat of a routine and I’m glad you noticed it and are trying to make sure we don’t do it again.”
“We’ll discuss it more a little later,” he said. “I didn’t bring it up to talk about right now, but I saw your unease at the changes I made tonight.”
“Thank you for explaining, Master.”
“Move into your inspection position,” he commanded.
Years ago, my body moved effortlessly from position to position without much thought on my part. Not so anymore. The combination of long periods in between play mixed with motherhood had slowed my movements. As I shifted into place, sliding my knees apart and holding my head back, I tried to think back to the last time he’d had me in my inspection position and failed. My back ached from the rarely used position and I kept shifting my knees until he spoke again.
“Stop. Move back into waiting.”