Wait ...

This is a rough draft, that I wrote as journal entries on another site, in explanation of a concept. Decided to post it here, as it will probably never be read, there.

Wait …

A man and woman meet. There is something there – a spark, a feeling of knowing each other already, a delight over the twinkle in each other’s eyes.

The man, eyeing the woman up and down, looking into her eyes, being the oh so observant dominant type, comes to a decision that this woman is well worth looking into.

Yes, there are things he would change, in her physical appearance, but, she seems to have the right character and she is pleasing enough to look at, in that she has good bone structure, clear eyes that look intelligent and fairly healthy.

He’s interested. No, she’s not perfect, but, there is something about her that makes him want to draw her close to him and begin to lead her, teach her how to please him and learn what makes her laugh, smile, cry ..

The woman, eyeing the man up and down, finds him attractive enough, as well; maybe she doesn’t like a few things about him, so much, but, he is a man living alone and didn’t get dressed, this morning, with thoughts of enticing a woman into his bed; it is obvious he was going for comfort, same as she was. Still, even though he is not trying, there is something about him, something that makes her want to lean in a little closer …

Time passes. Somehow, they get through the prelimaries, during that treacherous time of expressing interest, trying to sort out how to start, worrying if one said all the wrong things, and, they have now begun dating.
On their third date, he sees that she is, once again, wearing her ugly brown corduroys and button down blouse, the same as he’s seen her in, in passing, several times. They are not bad looking on her, exactly; but, he really has never liked that sort of outfit on a woman and she could do much better.

“I want to tell you something,” he begins, “but, I don’t want you to get upset. It’s not that you don’t look fine, but, I really hate corduroys. I’d like you to get rid of them.”

“But, " she replies. “I don’t want to get rid of them. I love wearing them and they are very comfortable. Besides, my mother gave them to me and it would hurt her feelings.”

He listens to her, considers, and says “Well, keep them, then, but, I want you to wear something better on our dates. And, if we ever start living together, I want you to only wear them for cleaning, or, to go visit your mother.”

He waits, to see what will happen, and, he is gratified to see the flush beginning in her lips, the subtle shift of facial muscles, the gleam in her eye. She is far from insulted, and, instead, he knows, between her legs the heat has increased, remarkably, in the last few seconds.

He can see her nipples hardening beneath that damnable button down shirt, as she cocks her head to the side, blushing; and, then she asks. “What would you like me to wear?”

Laughing, though he is not quite sure what he thinks is so funny, he pounces on the question with the answer he has had for every woman he’s ever dated, though, this is the first one who showed any inclination to hear it. Which is why, up until now though he has had his fun, he is still alone. "I’d like you to dress like a lady. Wear a pretty dress, some sort of jewelry, high heels, stockings, garter belt, matching bra and panties. The works. "

“All the time?”

“No. Just for our dates.”

“But, I don’t have all those things.”

“Do your best, with what you have, then, and, if you will allow me, I’ll help you find the rest, so that you may dress to please me. Would you like that?”

“Yes .. but .. "

“But, what?”

“High heels hurt my feet. I can’t walk in them. "

“Then, we’ll find you some pretty sandals you can walk in and leave the high heels for the bedroom.”

They are both enormously turned on by now, sexually yes, but, in other ways; feeling that string, that unites two people, being pulled a little tighter, wanting to fall in to each other and continue this experience. He takes charge of his desires, though, realizing this woman is worth waiting for, to make sure it is right between them in all other ways, before he pushes too much.

Time passes, and, he is now on a date with this beautiful woman. She surprised him, by getting her hair cut in a style that looks good on her and is reminiscent of styles she knows he has admired on other women; and, she has begun to wear red lipstick when they go out at night, because, he told her what it does to him.

It’s not fire engine red, as he mentioned, though, because, as an experiment, she tried it and they both had a laugh at what it did for her coloring. So, they went together to the makeup counter, and, with the help of the sales girl, found a beautiful cherry red, which did wonderful things for her face and his libido.

Tonight, she is wearing a midnight blue silk dress, opaque black stockings, black leather jump boots which contrast oddly with the dress in a way that he finds endearing, as it reflects her personality so well; and, he knows, because she has shown him, she is wearing a midnight blue satin garter belt with matching panties. She sat down at the table, her red lips smiling naughtily, and, whispered. “I finally got one.”

“Finally got one, what?” he asked.

Then she pulled up her skirt, right there at the table, showing him her new lingerie. “Look. Do you like it?”

It was a fairly discreet move, for being so bold, and the contrast, as well as the lingerie, and the woman herself, made it hard to resist touching her through her panties. It hasn’t come that far, yet, their relationship. She flipped her skrit back down, they ordered dinner, and, talked of their day. He was really doing okay with it, too ,as he loved to talk to her, but, occasionally, he felt himself compelled to reach toward her, to make demands that neither of them were ready for, and, so there was a little awkwardness.

Noting this, feeling a little less than self-confident suddenly, because she very much cared what he though of her, she finally got up the nerve to ask. “You don’t like it?”

Once he realized she meant the lingerie and not the creme brulee he was consuming, he replied “Oh, yes. I like it very much. Maybe a little too much. It’s hard to concentrate, because, now that I’ve seen it, I want to see it again.”

She blushed, and, while blushing, timidly pulled her skirt up again.

“That’s beautiful.” he said to her. “Thank you.” Then, as she started to lower the skirt, “Wait. Don’t do that, yet.” So, they sat, for a brief eternity, with him admiring and her blushing, but, enjoying the admiration. Dinner commenced and all went along, as awkwardly as before, but, happily awkward, with no one unsure of either’s feelings.

It is now after dinner, and, as he stands up, she notes his interest. It makes her mouth water, She wants to touch it, so bad. But, it is public, and, they have not even kissed, yet. So far, it has been nothing but dinners, going to the movies, and, these little requests of his, changes for her. Weird how much it means to her, then; but, she wouldn’t trade it for anything else. She just wants more of him. So, she asks him if they can walk a little, out there on the path, maybe sit together on the park bench, before going home, this time, and, he says yes.

They stroll, hold hands, talk of their childhood, make silly jokes, the usual things that couples do. Approaching the bench, they settle themselves upon it. the awkwardness is back, in the dark, in the cool night air, in the emptiness of the park, where two lone figures sit inches apart and wonder where to go from here. They can both feel that feeling, like the tug of the string that binds them, which tells them something is going to happen, but, what? And, who will start, this time?

“I liked that.” she says, out of the blue. The blue as midnight and rich as the silk that caresses her flesh. “When you told me to wait, when you looked at me like that. I liked it.”

“That’s good,” he tells her, “because, there is plenty more where that came from.”

A long minute passes, as they both digest what has just passed between them. Then, he touches his hand to her knee, caressing it with his fingertips, making little circles there, that drive her legs apart without conscious word or thought to do so. As they part, just a little, her skirt inches up, revealing a little more thigh. Pushing it back further, with definite intent now, he eyes her stocking tops with hunger. He wants to bite them and tear them off of her, but, he only touches them lightly, as he did her knee, until she gives a little laughing moan and sits up in shock.

They look into each other’s eyes, passion written on their faces, and, suddenly, he has has his fingers in her hair, pulling her close to him and kissing her deeply.

Her body is arching toward his, breasts and hips pushing, longng to be taken, as he continues to kiss her. But, she is trying to pull away, all the same. “No, no.” she says, because it is too soon, but, yes yes is all that she feels.

Marshaling his strength, he pulls away from her, trembling in the aftermath but back in control of his desires. “You don’t want this, do you?” he asks her. “Not just because it is too soon. You don’t want this.”

“N-no.” she says, tears welling up in her eyes as she waits for his anger, his dismissal.

“Why?”

“I .. be .. " She is falling apart, suddenly, tears spilling over.

He says “Come here.” and pulls her close, cradling her against his side. “It’s alright. I’m not going to be angry. Tell me.”

“I just don’t believe it’s right.”

“Ever?”

“Before marriage.”

This knocks the breath out of him. What has it been, six dates? Seven? He can’t remember. Is it time to even think about that level of commitment? Still, he has never been happier, and, she seems to want to please him, in every way, except where she can’t do it. Like the high heels. But .. "
“Do you like sex?” he asks her. “Have you had it?”

She laughs. “Yes.”

“Which?”

“Both.”

“Then, why not with me? Didn’t you have it with anyone you weren’t married to before?”

“Yes, but, I have changed since then.”

“You changed, so I get to suffer and not have what he did?”

“If you want to put i that way.” she says. She sounds angry now, hurt and defensive. “But, then, you have plenty he didn’t.”

“How so?” he growls.

“How so? How so? This..” she snaps, ruffling her skirt at him, " .. this…" she runs her fingertip over her lips .. " .. this.." she says, lifting her skirt, just enough to be distracting. “Do you think I do this for everyone? Doesn’t anything I do for you count? Or, is it only about you getting laid? Is that why we’re here?”

She is standing now, and, they face each other in silence. He can see, though, she is about to run. He’s not sure what to think, yet, but, he knows one thing. He isn’t ready to say it’s over. So, he reaches out, takes her hand, and says, softly “Come here.”

She comes there. They sit together again, inches apart, thinking, trying not to think. Not sure what to do. And, finally, he makes his reply.

“No, it is not all about me getting laid. " She starts to interrupt, but, continues. “Just let me answer, then we can talk. It is not about me getting laid. It is about me desiring you. I want to own you, all of you, including your body. I want you to yield to me and show me that you desire me. It doesn’t have to be me getting inside you, like that, but, I do need to be inside your head, and, your heart. I need to know that you belong to me. I can wait to taste and fuck your pussy, to feel your mouth on my cock. But, I need more than just conversation.”

“What is .. What .. what do you need?” she asks, blushing, shifting in ways that speak of her own desire, brought on by his words.

“I need to spank you.”

“But .. are you mad at me?”

“No. I just need it.”

“Why?” she asks. She is not saying no, though.

“I need to know that you will do it, that you will lay across my lap and let me spank you.

“You want to hurt me?”, she half-exclaims, drawing back in disbelief.

“No. Well, yes, but, no. It’s not about the pain. It’s about you showing me you want to please me.”

She doesn’t answer. They sit in silence for what seems like enough time to cause senility to flourish. He is going mad, wondering if he went to far, if he didn’t explain enough, and, is about ready to give up, to apologize and walk away. He misread her, after all. Then ..

“Here?” she asks. “Now?”

Time passes, and, they are truly a couple now. She comes over to his place, he comes over to hers. Various friends and family members have met, and, everyone knows that if they invite one to a dinner party or a wedding, they invite both. A routine has developed, to their mutual delight.

She has revealed to him her desire to get in shape, which he knows she needs but had not broached the subject of, yet; and, she asked for his help. Talking it over, they agreed that he would buy a weight machine, that fit nicely in the corner of her living room, and, a recumbent bike that would fit nicely near the end of his bed, and, together, they would work out on these machines, three times a week, each.

He marks down when she has not finished her sets or reps, or, gone the full amount of miles. Sometimes she is ill, and, he lets it slide; but, if she is being lazy, he takes action, as they agreed upon, and, gives her a lash with a crop, on her pert, nude backside, for every mistake she’s made. To be fair, she does the same for him.

The first time he spanked her, it was lightly, just for the sake of her submission. The second time he spanked her, it was because she was very rude to a friend of his, and, he spanked her hard, until her buttocks were red and stinging.

She cried, and, he waited, afraid he’d lose her, this time. But, when she came to him, it was with an apology for embarrassing him. When, later, they went to visit her mother, she asked him, at the front door “If I get spanked for being rude to your friends, what do you get for being rude to or about my mother?”, he was duly warned and on his best behavior.

“I don’t much like your mother.” he revealed, later. To which she replied “Nor I yours.Good reason for us to visit our respective mothers more alone, than together. But, still ..” He agreed. Peace reigned.

When they watch television, she sits at his feet, sometimes. He didn’t order it, at first. She just slid down there, one day, and, stayed. Now, he will order her to sit there, when the feeling is upon him. Sometimes she says no. Once, she said “I think you should be the one down there, and, massage my feet, while you are at it. I’ve had such a day.”

He was shocked .. he was intrigued .. and, then down he went, where his hands were full of feet, and, his ears were full of asses, as she told him about her co-workers and the trauma they caused her fine sensibilities.

Yet, he could feel her pulling away, sometimes. It was the guilt, the feeling of it not being right, sex without marriage. Because, they both wanted it, and, sometimes, like the time he spent all night tying her up and telling her what he was going to do to her, then, finally, doing it – whipping her back and buttocks, caressing them with oils and then, whispering heady words of passion, giving her a few more lashes – he knew she had orgasms, and, to her, that was too close.

She was afraid she was going to fall. Yes, she was definitely pulling away, and, it was time he decide to move forward or cut her loose, because, she was not going to change her mind or yield on that one subject.

So, as they sat, watching a movie, she at his feet, he reached down and stroked her hair, wondering which way things would go. Then, he surprised himself, asking “Would you prefer a ring or a collar?”

Without moving her head, without hesitation, she replied “I’d prefer matching nipple rings, but, you’ll have to hold my hand. I’ll be scared.” And, he knew that this was how their life would be.

Time passed and their wedding night arrived. She sat on the edge of the bed and surprised him with her boldness. “I have to tell you something.” she said. “I don’t like ass play. as they call it. I think it’s dirty and disgusting. But, I think you should do it, all the same.”

“What!” he would have exclaimed, except he was so surprised, so immediately hard, that he couldn’t form the word.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and, I think .. I need you to take me.”

He still wasn’t talking. There was a vague worry in his head, that his cock would rip his pants in two, and, he’d have to buy the rented suit.

She was less than calm, herself, her face burning red, her hands and feet fidgeting; but, she persevered.

“I want to make love to you. To do all the sharing, caring, sort of thing, but .. this time, because it is our first time, because I want you to own me and to know I belong to you all the way, I think .. you should take me .. don’t ask, dont’ even order, just take me .. and, use my mouth, my cunt, and my ass. I only ask that it be in that order please, because, I don’t want to get sick. I want you to do whatever you want to me, for as long as you want .. so we both know .. "

She stopped, choking on a lump of her own embarrasment, which swelled up in her throat. It must have been hot, because, it made her eyes water. " P .. please.. make me yours, all the way?" she begged.

How could he resist the urge to please her?