You've Never Met Anyone Like Her Before

“Right.” Her shoulders don’t loosen.

“Morals are down to the individual,” you try to help her. “Ask yourself who you’re hurting, ask yourself who you’re helping, decide if it’s worth it, then decide if you can live with it.” You’re pretty sure you’re smashing a couple philosophies or whatever together but it’s so late it’s actually early in the morning and you did not wire your brain for an ethical debate on the way over.

“Okay,” she takes a deep breath. “Okay, I can do that.”

She goes quiet and you realise she’s doing it right now. You can’t even be annoyed. It sounds like she’s really tangled up by whatever’s going on at work.

“But what if I don’t know everything? And what if I’m super sure the person I’m doing it for is all about the greater good?”

You wince at greater good but otherwise skip over it. You’re missing way too many pieces to be able to be even a little bit of help. 

“I really can’t tell, Mel.”

“It’s not like she’s ever really lied to me before and I want to believe her. I really do. It’s just— just the everything I can’t tell you.”

“Are you trying to get me to validate the weird relationship you have with your boss? Because I’m not going to do that. Unless you’re going to tell her I said that. Then I one hundred percent do.”

“No, yeah, you’re right. I should take a step back. I will take a step back.” Mel takes another sip of her drink. “Except I get this weird feeling in my stomach every time I think about taking some time off?”

“That would be the codependency.”

“Or it’s because I don’t like change. I don’t like changing my routine.”

“Sure. It’s definitely that. Except with a boss like that your routine is always changing.”

“Technically, it does but my routine isn’t broken into places and rooms. Her’s is but mine is like…working, break, working, home.”

“I hope there are a few more breaks in there with the hours you work and you’re just skipping over them to save time.”

She waves you off. “We don’t have a codependency thing. We just spend more time together than the average person.”

“Okay, sure, it’s totally different. Can I kiss you now?”

“Oh, right,” Mel finally remembers that she did in fact booty call you. She places her drink down heavily and twists to climb onto your lap. “Please do. I would love to not think for a few hours.”

“Only a few? Should I be insulted?”

“Not if you start kissing me right now.”

You pull her down into a kiss. It’s familiar and easy and it’s not long before she’s melting against you. 

“Bedroom,” she eventually murmurs because you’re not teenagers anymore and fucking on this couch will hurt your back and her knees. 

You help her onto her feet and can’t help stealing a few kisses on the way to her bedroom. You help shed each other’s clothes once you’re through the door. You stop to enjoy the new skin, lips skimming and hands groping, before guiding her onto the bed. You eagerly crawl on top of her. She’s grinning up at you and you can’t help but kissing her again. 

You support yourself with one hand as the other trails lower. She’s wet, very wet. You try to tease but her mumbled, fuck me, makes you push two fingers inside. She moans at the slight stretch and you pull back slightly to watch her face. Partly to make sure it doesn’t suddenly become too much and partly to see the haze of pleasure descend over her face. You stay slow until her movements turn needy.

“More?” you ask when her chest starts heaving. She shakes her head, biting her lip. You move your thumb to bump her clit every time you thrust into her instead of adding another finger. She moans again, her eyes closing. A few more thrusts and then you curl your fingers. She arches and you gently fuck her through her orgasm.

You pull out when she releases one last big breath and nose at her neck.

“Good?” you murmur.

“Good,” she agrees, voice husky.

You indulge in giving her neck some more attention before asking,

“Big or little spoon?”

“Hmm, big,” she decides. You lean forward to give her one last peck on the lips before rolling onto your side. She wraps herself around you. You fall asleep enjoying her scent.

—-

Mel’s phone ringing has her shooting out of bed. She answers the second she has a decent grip on it. Her “Morning, Val. Ah-huh...yep…really? Right now?…No— no, totally. I am totally ready,” flies in one ear and out the other. It’s not until she sits upright and says, “Oh, shit.” that you snap awake enough to realise somethings happening. She hangs up. Or the other person does.

“Everything okay?” you ask, voice raspy from sleep.

“Definitely. Totally. How fast can you leave?”

“Um— “ There’s a knock at the door.

“Never mind. Stay quiet and don’t move.” She quickly pulls on a pair of sleep pants and a shirt. You don’t have time to warn her that it’s your shirt before she’s shutting the door behind her.

You stay quiet. This wouldn’t be the first time a friend has come over unexpectedly early. Sometimes more than a friend but based on Mel’s ramblings she isn’t the type to do that and is too hung up on her boss to be able to anyway.

“Val!” you hear Mel say too loudly. You have got to be fucking kidding me. For the first time you wish the walls were thinner. You can’t hear what they’re saying. Heels clicking closer warn you of the woman’s approach but there’s literally nothing you can do. Mel doesn’t have a walk-in closet in here and her bed frame has the annoying ornamental wood sticking down which means you won’t fit under it.

“— ready.”

Your eyes dart reluctantly to the voice. You need to see if someone starts swinging. Your worst fear is realised. Valentina de Fontaine is looking at you. The one Mel has a thing you are so desperately hoping is one sided with.

Mel forces herself between Valentina and the door.

“This is why you aren’t ready?” Valentina says before Mel can speak. You’d find it rude, or hot, if you weren’t currently terrified.

“It’s— it’s really early, Val, and you only called a couple minutes ago. It’s perfectly reasonable— “

Valentina (who calls their super powerful boss a nickname?) sighs, rolls her eyes. “You have five minutes.” She pauses, her eyes flicking back to you before her mouth curls. “Make that ten. No, fifteen. Normally I’d say take as long as you need but our…meeting really can’t wait.” She turns on her heel and disappears down the hall. 

Seriously? That reaction and they don’t have sexual tension or a codependency thing? Sure, Mel.

Mel hurries around the room as she gets out a set of fresh, professional looking clothes.

“Mel,” you say, voice strained. “Please tell me your boss isn’t going to kill me in an uncontrollable jealous rage.”

“She doesn’t really do uncontrolled.”

“Mel.”

“Right, yes, sorry, I mean no. No, she will not kill you.”

“Make her promise.”

“What?”

“Unless she will just to spite you, make her promise she won’t kill me and do it in a way she can’t wriggle out of it.”

“You really think I need to? She was the director of the CIA.”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“I’m not saying I need to but I will promise just so you don’t have a heart attack okay?”

“Thank you.” You slump back onto her bed. Plans of enjoying your last hours are forming anyway, just in case. Mel pauses at her bedroom door.

“Hey, um, last night was great.” You resist the urge to groan. She should not be saying that after her super scary boss just tried to kill you with her eyes. “I know this morning wasn’t…great but if I text again will you…?”

You don’t hold back your sigh. You need to start being able to say no to a pretty face. 

“You know I will, Mel. I always do.” You don’t uncover your eyes but you can feel the force of her smile.

“Awesome— sweet— I mean…cool— “

“Mel,” you cut off her spiral, “Please leave before your boss comes back.”

“You are always about being on time,” Mel supposes, deciding to move on from the gorgeous line so she can continue to function. “And you didn’t hire me just to look at.”

“No,” Valentina sighs, “You’re frustratingly competent.”

“Do I need to create a meeting with someone you can berate?”

Valentina waves her hand. “No, no, I’m about to get plenty of stress relief.”

“You are?”

“One of the main things puppies are good for.”

Mel taps her finger on the side of her tablet. Does Valentina mean yelling (or worse) stress relief or the nicer kind? Either way, she’s thankful for how sound proofed this room is.

“So I don’t need to prepare anything?” Mel checks.

“Not especially, no. Only yourself so you don’t freak out.”

“I’ve been working with you long enough to have very little freak me out,” Mel says, only half sure.

“You wouldn’t have freaked out at a puppy-human hybrid?”

“…hybrid?” Mel hesitates.

“One of the experiments you aren’t meant to know about. Something just for the elite. Initially intended as a special kind of solider but you know what rich people are like.”

Mel’s mouth hangs open. Valentina stares at her straight faced for several moments before her mouth splits into a smile.

“Kidding, Mel. You know I don’t hide any experiments from you. I certainly wouldn’t hide one with the possibility to be so fun.”

And messy, Mel adds mentally. She’s also not sure about Valentina not hiding anything from her but she doesn’t say anything.

A knock at the door has her turning. She feels strangely nervous. Valentina calls out to give permission to enter. The new hire, you, walks in wearing a crisp button-down shirt, a thin black tie, slacks and shiny boots. Mel would say it’s stereotypical if she didn’t know how many wrinkled shirts she has to witness a day.

You nod in Mel’s direction as you walk towards Valentina. You stop directly in front of her desk, your full attention now on her. Valentina is leaning forward, her elbow on her desk and her chin in her palm.

“Good morning,” she says, voice notably lower than it was before.

“Good morning.” You stand with your hands folded in front of you, your back perfectly straight. Valentina drinks in the sight of you.

She turns her chair to the side and points at the floor in front of her. You obediently follow the directive. Mel watches your face closely. It’s suspiciously relaxed. She thought an interview, especially one of this nature, would bring a bit more second guessing out of someone. 

Valentina runs her eyes critically over you. She gives a considering hum as she reaches out and pulls at the cuffs of your shirt before trailing her sharp nails up your sleeve. They run across before sliding down your chest parallel to your tie. They stop before the bottom of your tie. Mel notices that your breathing is no longer even but she hasn’t seen you so much as twitch. Valentina grabs the end and twists her wrist to wrap the tie around her hand. She yanks you down. A choked sound escapes you. She doesn’t pull you to eye level. No, she drags you lower so you’re forced to peer up at her. Mel internally winces at the angle.

“You will do everything I say, do you understand?” Valentina says.

“Yes, Contessa,” is your obedient reply. 

“I do not suffer traitors.”

“I understand, Contessa.”

Valentina’s resulting smile is sharp. She tugs on the tie again just to watch you strain.

“This will work for now but we’ll need to find something a bit more fitting soon. Mel?” Valentina turns to her. 

It takes Mel a moment too long to understand what Valentina means. Mel tears her eyes away from the unexpectedly captivating sight and swipes her tablet to pull up the more discrete shopping method Valentina uses when things absolutely cannot be linked back to her. It clears her head enough to mentally note the use of Contessa without prompting.

“What design were you thinking?” she asks, her voice more affected than she was hoping.

Valentina doesn’t ease her grip as she thinks. Mel’s suspicion is confirmed when you don’t start to struggle. No sane person would allow this treatment without a hint of intentions or expectations and Valentina would not risk having someone who melts at the first sign of dominance from anyone but herself, considering the company she keeps.

“Why don’t you pick something out?” Valentina suggests. “You’ll have to spend almost as much time as I will looking at them. You can decorate them too. Maybe we can even try co-owning in the future.”

Mel pauses. She’s gotten used to Valentina sharing her things with her, mostly. It’s a privilege she brushed off as a necessity of being her assistant until the items shared were too unnecessary to ignore. This is something different though. ‘Co-owning’ would be opening a few doors she didn’t think they talked about.

“…If you think that wise,” Mel settles on. Valentina snorts quietly at the diplomatic answer and releases your tie. You don’t straighten until she flicks your shoulder. She points at the ground in front of her again and you shuffle closer. 

“Kneel,” she clarifies. You drop to your knees. Your head dips in a bow. “Time for the skill test portion of this interview.”

Mel lowers the tablet to her side. Her attention fully on the scene in front of her. She can only just see the top of your head. She wants to move but can already imagine what Valentina will say. Her brain also files away the fact that Valentina has been talking like she’s already hired you, which means she’s somehow confirmed your skills for herself before.

Valentina stands and you calmly unbuckle her belt and pull down her slacks. Your excitement is betrayed by your face and twitching hands. Valentina sits down again and you immediately lean closer but stop yourself before you can touch. Valentina makes you wait. The room becomes silent enough that Mel can hear your heavy breathing. Your eyes haven’t left Valentina’s cunt. Finally, Valentina grips the hair at the top of your head and pulls your face down to her cunt.

“Don’t disappoint.”

Based on Valentina’s reaction, you don’t but Mel can’t see much of what you’re doing. So she focuses on Valentina’s expression, on the way her shoulders slowly begin to relax, her mouth falling open slightly as her breathing gets heavier. Mel can hear how wet she is. She swallows roughly.

Valentina’s head turns suddenly to look at Mel. Mel’s mind screams at her to look away but she can’t. Blown pupils and flushed cheeks are such a rare treat she can’t help but devour it.

“Can you see, Mel?”

Mel thought she had faded into the background like she usually does. She didn’t realise Valentina wants her to watch. Throat too dry to talk, she shakes her head. Valentina clicks her tongue and Mel sees the top of your head move back again.

It seems Valentina is also struggling with words because she directs Mel to stand on the other side of the desk using her finger. Mel obeys, legs feeling wobbly from desire. She stops where Valentina had pointed, several steps behind you. Valentina makes a frustrated gesture.

“Where you can really see, Mel,” she says. “I don’t know how you’re meant to be handling this interview if you can’t see the interviewees work.”

Mel moves to stand beside Valentina’s chair. She’s much closer than she needs to be but Valentina doesn’t make her step back. You haven’t so much as twitched during the whole conversation. Back straight, head bowed, perfectly obedient puppy. 

Valentina snaps her fingers. Mel watches, mouth dry, as you lower your head again. This time she can see your tongue work through Valentina’s folds. The way you nose her clit and tease her entrance. She also notices your fingers twitching upward before clamping down on your own thighs. Your own desire growing and conflicting your orders. Mel easily gets lost in it all.

Valentina’s hand tightens in your hair. Mel’s close enough to see your eyes flutter. She makes a mental note even as the heat within her rises.

You do something with your tongue that she can’t quite make out from this angle and Valentina can’t stop the moan that escapes her. Her body tensing a moment later tells Mel she’s coming. Mel’s eyes flicker between Valentina’s face and yours, unable to decide which to look at. 

When Valentina relaxes, as much as she ever does in the office, Mel settles her eyes firmly on you. She ignores the envy that flares as you get to clean Valentina up.

“Passable,” Valentina says once her breathing has calmed.

Your smile is wide and Mel can easily imagine your tail wagging. Valentina pulls out a couple of wet wipes, ones Mel had ordered for her two days ago, and roughly wipes your face clean. You hold perfectly still, that smile never fading.

Valentina has her own smile playing about her mouth but she doesn’t allow it to show fully.

“Dismissed,” Valentina says. You scramble to your feet, the first sign of lack of composure, give her a short bow before turning to Mel and repeating the action. You leave as calmly as you entered, shirt now untucked and with a few wrinkles.

“Well that was…easy,” Mel says, still staring at the spot you had been.

“When don’t I do my research?”

“True, but usually you have me do the research. You really didn’t tell them?”

“Who needs to include it in the contract when I have their search history.”

“Alright,” Mel makes a note to herself to change the policy to knocking only for entering Valentina’s office, even in emergencies.

“There may have been some prior communication,” Valentina admits reluctantly into the silence. “I could hardly risk them running out screaming. Not that that would have happened given their interests and my being their type. The results would have been the same, maybe a bit more hesitance.”

“I have complete faith you would have them on their knees within moments of meeting you, Val.” Mel pretends not to see Valentina’s pleased smile. “Also, I knew the moment they called you ‘Contessa’. New hires automatically address you as Director.”

The smile drops into what Mel has deemed Valentina’s version of a pout. A blank face apart from the smallest downturn of the left corner of her lips.

“You live to ruin my fun, don’t you Mel?”

“I schedule time for it every day.”

“Of course you do,” Valentina sighs, this side of fond. Another quiet pause before Valentina says, “Would you have interest in playing with them?”

Mel almost drops her tablet. “Me?”

“I wouldn’t allow anyone else.”

“I—“ would she? “I wouldn’t feel comfortable at the office.” No one is dumb enough to enter without Valentina’s permission but that wouldn’t stop the worry of someone walking in. Not to mention the windows.

“They’ll be joining us on our late nights at my home office.”

Mel swallows roughly. The idea isn’t exactly upsetting but it’s more than a little overwhelming. 

“I’ll think about it,” she says. Valentina nods.

“I’ll hardly be upset if you don’t want to,” she says. “More puppy for me.”

Mel bites her lip. Valentina had obviously enjoyed herself and she’s notoriously hard to please. Mel barely gets any time to herself let alone to find someone else. 

“Yeah. You said it was too dangerous to make another me. Everyone else died.” You aren’t meant to preen at the idea that you survived, that you were superior even before the experiment worked on you, but you do. Just a little. It’s what brought you to Valentina after all.

“Correct, which is why we’ve decided to try and make someone like you.”

You frown. You aren’t sure you like the idea. Won’t another person take Valentina’s attention away from you?

“But all the work has been destroyed,” you say.

“We aren’t continuing the experiment. At least, not in that way. The experiments were too unpredictable and pricey considering the few results. I believe it would be much safer for you to pass on your genes instead.”

“Like take my blood?” You’re not sure how they would do it since your skin is impenetrable but Valentina will find a way.

“No. Something a bit more literal.”

Your eyes widen. “You want to take my eggs?” The little you knew of the process sounded more than a little scary.

“No. If the foetus has your powers from the start instead of developing them after its birth it could prove quite dangerous.”

“Then how would you get my genes?”

“Through more traditional means.”

Traditional. You roll the word around as you try to understand her meaning. It’s been a long time since tradition has had any meaning to you. Now there’s only the ones Valentina makes. Then it clicks.

“Pregnancy,” you say dully.

“I know it’s a big ask but this would do so much good for humanity and…you wouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m not alone,” you say earnestly. “I have you.”

She smiles and gently cups your cheek. “You do. Always. And I’ll always accept you but I can’t relate to how you experience the world. How your powers affect you. I can only empathise.”

You chew your bottom lip. It would be nice to have someone truly understand how it feels, instead of only understanding from your words. You can never quite explain it. How it feels to be invulnerable, the buzzing under your skin, the thing that lurks within you.

“How would it happen?” you ask cautiously. The idea of a stranger touching you makes your skin crawl but you don’t really like the idea of a needle either.

“A few suggestions were thrown around but I thought you might prefer something less sterile.” She undoes the bow of the box in her lap.

You sit up eagerly. You don’t know what to guess like you usually try to but a present from her has never let you down before. She knows every detail of your life. Past, present and future. She knows exactly what to get you every time. 

She lifts the lid to reveal a strap-on. Your mouth dries.

“This was made specifically to be able to do the job without the usual limitations,” she says.

You don’t know what the usual limitations are and you don’t really care. “You mean you’re going to…?”

“Yes. I’m going to fuck you with it.”

You swallow harshly. Valentina has rewarded you with serving her plenty of times but you’ve never been allowed anything like this. You aren’t even allowed to touch her with anything but your tongue. Which is a precaution for her safety. You’re still new enough to your strength that you could hurt her in your excitement. The worry doesn’t stop you yearning for it.

“How does it— how would we— I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re so sweet,” she says in a condescending tone you don’t pick up on. “You’ll still need to keep your hands to yourself but I believe you’ve gained enough control to lay in the traditional position.”

You glow at the compliment. You’ve worked so hard on your control. It’s the main part of your training but that isn’t why you care so much about it. You want to be able to touch Valentina, even just to graze her skin. You ache for it.

“Are we— right now?” Your eyes flick between her and the strap-on.

“Yes. The cameras are already off. Undress and lay on the bed.”

You jump to do the commands eagerly. You’re still careful while taking off your clothes. You don’t want to risk tearing them and being forced into whatever position isn’t the traditional one but would be safer.

You hesitate at your underwear. It’s been a long time since anyone has seen you in this kind of situation. It’s nerve-wracking, especially with Valentina being the first one to see you naked outside of scientists.

Looking up is a mistake. Valentina is strapping the harness on. Her movements are confident and she has it on in moments. Her smooth skin is bared below the waist and you drink the sight in eagerly. She doesn’t take her shirt off. She never takes her shirt off and it frustrates you endlessly. You’re already so good you don’t know what you have to do to convince her. Maybe it’s to discourage you from touching or maybe you haven’t earned the privilege. At least the shirt today looks like a softer material and there’s no buttons to scrape against your skin.

“Well?”

Your eyes snap up. She’s finished as you got lost in your thoughts. Something that happens frequently and she’s usually patient with. You scramble to take off your underwear. Any embarrassment hid with the distraction of her skin and it flees completely at the sight of the strap-on standing proudly between her legs. Your eyes drop back down to it and you swallow roughly as you lay down properly. 

It feels like it takes Valentina forever to walk to the bed. Her strap bobs with every step. She climbs in between your legs and you struggle note to squirm. You have to be good. This can’t end so early. 

Two fingers glide between your soaked folds and she holds them up. Your wetness glistens in the light. She parts them and it stretches.

“I don’t think/We won’t need the lube,” she says. You’re not embarrassed. Valentina knows the effect she has on you.

Her hand moves to her strap and she guides it towards your entrance. You’ve been in here for so long without so much as a toy that you feel the stretch the moment the head enters you. It’s not bad, she hasn’t chosen a big toy, 

“Relax,” Valentina murmurs. “I have you.”

You stare up at her as you take a deep breath. Her eyes are so kind, her face soft. You slowly force your body to relax. She always takes such good care of you. 

She keeps filling you. You can’t believe Valentina is touching you. That this is happening. She’s finally claiming the deepest part of you. The idea is enough to almost send you over the edge already.

“There we go,” Valentina says as she bottoms out. Her pupils are blown. Her perfume fills your nose and her strap fills your cunt and the way she hovers over you makes you feel like you’re surrounded by her.  

She stays like that and you bask in her long enough to get needy. You try not to squirm but it’s a losing battle with her so close. Instead of filling the ache the strap has only worsened it. She’s so kind to give you time to adjust but really you’d be okay with her fucking you the second she got her hands on you. You’ve been dreaming about it for months. Now that your control is finally good enough the waiting is torture.

She clicks her tongue and holds your hips down. You still immediately. Valentina’s strength is nothing compared to yours, no one’s is, but you obey her every command like it’s breathing. Disobeying hasn’t been a thought in your head for a very long time. You also don’t want to risk hurting her. You’re pretty sure the world would end if you did.

Valentina finally, finally moves. You moan as she drags the strap out of you. Her following thrust is short and sharp. Your hands move to grab her but abort at the last second and cling to the headboard.

“Good girl,” she husks. You shudder.

She keeps fucking you and it’s so hard to be good. The plant pot on the table begins to rattle. You force your magic back down. You are in charge and you won’t allow it to ruin this for you. The headboard breaks beneath your fingers but still you don’t move. You force the power wanting to fly things around the move down. You can’t move, you can’t let your powers loose. You have to be good. She might stop if you aren’t and the need to come consumes you. 

Valentina’s long nails dig in, sharp enough to cut if your skin was capable of splitting. For the first time you hate your indestructible power. You want her to mark you with more than just your clothes. You want her to sink her teeth into you and tear. You want everyone to see how much she owns you; how deeply embedded she is [in your skin]. 

Valentina makes a low noise and the headboard becomes splinters between your fingers. You so rarely hear anything when you service her until the end and even then it’s little more than a raspy praise. Your stomach flexes but you keep your hips firmly against the bed. You want her to make that noise again. You want to be the reason she makes it but your control is so close to snapping you might break her.

Instead you memorise every hitch of her breath, the tight press of her lips when she’s swallowing a noise, the feel of her reaching the deepest part of you.

You can’t help coming even as you desperate try to prolong this moment. You cry out as your body floods with pleasure. Something warm fills you and you arch as your body responds. It feels so good. Too good. The room shakes. Things topple off of the table.

Panting, you look up at her with star-filled eyes. Her hair is messy and there’s a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. You wish you could kiss her.

Valentina looks around the room. A few things have fallen off of the table but otherwise nothing is broken and everything is in its place.

“You did well,” she praises.

“So I did.” She grabs your hand and leads you to the kitchen, talking about what’s for dinner. You cautiously twine your fingers with hers. She throws a warm look over her shoulder without pausing. She turns right at the kitchen instead of entering. You follow curiously. The look she throws you this time has her eyes sparkling with mischief.

The next door she opens leads to a bedroom. Her bedroom you realise as you look around. You hesitate for the first time, not quite able to bring yourself to enter despite her leading you in. She stops instead of dragging you in. She turns to face you and grabs you other hand.

“Will you wear something I’ve picked out?” she asks hopefully. You’ve never been able to deny her and it’s such a simple request. She knows what you like.  You nod easily. Her smile lights her face and she pulls you into her room. The outfit laid out on her bed is…nice. Very nice. Obviously expensive and just your style. She watches fondly as you gently run your fingers over the fabric.

“There was more but I don’t want to overwhelm you on our first full night.”

“More?” You look at her curiously. There’s a full outfit there. Maybe jewellery or something? Sue steps closer. She trails her free hand down your arm then off your fingers onto the fabric of the outfit she’s chosen. She trails her fingers lower to fiddle with the hem. Two fingers gently run under the edge.

“Oh,” you murmur. Sue’s grin this time is slower. She slides between you and the bed, her hand returning your arm. This time it climbs higher to lightly rest on your shoulder.

“Why don’t you get dressed while I plate?” She’s so close her nose brushes yours. You nod mutely, your mind suddenly quiet. She gently squeezes your shoulder, then slips away as easily as she slipped in. You resist the urge to ask her to stay.

You admire the fabric for another moment before putting the new outfit on. You neatly fold your old outfit and place it on the bedside table. Normally you would put it on the bed but you have a feeling that’s going to be used tonight and you won’t want to waste a second. You linger afterwards. You aren’t sure if you’re meant to go back to the kitchen or if Sue wants to escort you again. After a few agonising moments you decide to go to the kitchen. You don’t want to be away from her and there’s currently no reason to be.

She’s placing both plates onto the dining room table when you emerge from the hall. The smile she gives you is radiant. She meets you halfway when you walk to her. Her hands smooth over the fabric at your shoulders.

“So handsome,” she murmurs, almost to herself. You duck your head. “Ah,” she murmurs and tilts your head up to look at her, “There’s no reason to hide.” Her smile is so warm you struggle to not look away again. 

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, trying to memorise the blue of her eyes. She runs the tips of the fingers along your jaw before pulling away.

“Let’s eat,” she says, “We can continue this conversation later.”

Dinner is delicious and the company is even better. Your quiet conversation fills the room. Sue warm and attentive, you returning the same attention. It’s easy with her, talking about the silly things and the serious. You’ve been content in her presence before but this leaves such a warm feeling in your chest. When you’ve both cleared your plates and the conversation has finally wound down, you stand to take the dishes but Sue stops you.

“You cooked. Let me help clean you,” you insist.

“The dishwasher’s been modified,” she explains. “And I didn’t cook,” she admits with a hint of humour. “Will you sit on the couch for me?”

You reluctantly hand over your dish and move to the other room. There’s only the one part wall separating the rooms but you still play with your hands anxiously. You’re only able to see Sue in flashes as she moves about the kitchen. You look up when she makes her way over. She settles on the couch beside you with a warm smile. Her knee brushes yours. She gently takes one your hands in hers and holds it in her lap. Your eyes linger on where her skirt rides up her thigh before you manage to get control of yourself.

“I would like you to follow instructions tonight, okay?” she says.

“Of course, Sue,” you say immediately. Her thumb rubs the back of your hand.

“Good,” murmurs Sue, “Although it would be alright if you’d prefer something else. Tonight is about both of our pleasure and comfort. An exploration of what the future could be like for us. I don’t want you saying yes to things simply to make me happy. I want you to enjoy them too. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Are you ready?” she asks. You perk up. She’s watching you with a warm smile, her eyes are practically sparkling.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Come along then.” She stands and holds out her hand. You take it, fingers slotting perfectly between hers. She leads you back to the bedroom. She stops at the end of the bed again. She tugs you closer. Close enough that your clothes brush hers.

“Let’s continue our conversation from earlier,” Sue says. You’re lost. She gently turns your head to face the full length mirror. “Look at you,” she whispers, pressing herself against your back again. The instinctive embarrassment rises inside of you but her grip tightens so you can’t look away. You swallow nervously, focusing on her in the mirror instead of yourself.

“I remember the conversation pausing when I was complimenting you. Not the other way around.”

Sue smiles. She turns her face so her lips brush your skin. She skims them over your cheek in an impression of a kiss.

“Let me have my fun,” she murmurs, breath hot against your ear.

You take a deep breath. “Yes, Sue.”

“My handsome boy,” she says. She glides her lips down to your neck as her hands untuck your shirt and glide under it. Her touch is light and your stomach muscles jump at the slightly ticklish feeling. Her hands explore as she gently sucks a mark onto your neck. Your eyes follow the movement of her hands under your shirt, never moving too high or too low. A tease or an idle movement, you don’t know. She releases your skin and gives a light lick over the newly sensitive spot, an amused smile growing when you shiver. “Let’s get you out of this. I want to see how handsome you are underneath.”

You nod and try to unbutton your shirt. Your hands shake slightly. She lightly pushes your hands away before you can get the first button undone.

“Let me,” she says. She doesn’t need to move, using the mirror to help her unbutton your shirt while still pressed against your back. “You’re mine to unwrap, after all.”

“Sorry,” you breathe.

“No need,” she reassures, voice still that same soft tone. “You only wanted to help, didn’t you sweet thing?”

You nod, unable to take your eyes away from her skilled hands. She smoothy undoes every button. Within moments she’s leaning back enough just to slide your shirt off and onto the ground, her nails lightly dragging up your arms and over your shoulders. You’re slightly surprised by her letting it fall, crumpled, to the ground but don’t say anything. She’s pressed against you again within a moment but you still missed her warmth. 

Her hands go to your belt and your breath hitches. She undoes it slowly. A brief look higher shows her eyes on your face. The heat in them is too much and you quickly drop your gaze back to your belt. Now undone, she tugs it off. It you more wet than should be reasonable, yet it conjures images up you aren’t strong enough to shove back down. Hovering over Sue, kneeling between her legs, making her feel so good, her face scrunched in pleasure. You’re too distracted to see if she catches your reaction. Your pants drop to the floor too, Sue not dragging it out this time.

“Shoes,” she says and you’re quick to toe out of them. You wobble a little with the pants still bunched around your ankles but Sue steadies you. An embarrassed glance up shows only a soft smile on her face.

You’re too fuzzy to guess what she’ll do next but the feel of her warmth against your back again is welcome. The feel of her clothes annoying only in the hiding of the feel of her skin. Her hands settle on your hips. She doesn’t move for a few long moments, admiring you in the mirror. You resist the urge to squirm. She presses a gentle kiss into your shoulder before her hands tighten on your hips and she gently guides you backwards to the bed. You’re slightly surprised she isn’t going to fuck you right in front of the mirror, but maybe that’s too much for the first night. You’re meant to be getting to know each other in a new way. You want to see her not yourself, even if it is the sight of you falling apart at her hands. Maybe another night.

She guides you to lay in the centre of the extremely comfortable bed and is quick to follow. You’re impressed with how quickly she pulls her dress off in the moments between. She settles on your hips and it’s your turn to admire her. A chance you accept eagerly. Your eyes drink her in even as your hands hesitate above her hips.

“You can touch,” she says, voice rougher than before. Your hands don’t settle on her hips. Instead you skim lightly over them before exploring higher. Her skin is smooth and soft beneath your touch. You can’t help exploring for longer than you should. Eventually you sit up slightly to reach behind her. The blue of her bra suits her wonderfully but you want to see what’s underneath.

“May I?” you ask, fingers stopping on the clasp.

“You may,” she says, voice smooth. 

Thankfully, your slightly shaky fingers don’t betray you and it doesn’t take more than a moment to remove. Taking a risk, you throw the bra to the side like she had your clothes. No reprimand comes and you eagerly reach for your prize. You keep your touch gentle but not light. Smoothing over her skin first before squeezing. She presses her chest into your hands. You move to gently play with her nipples, loving the way her shoulders slowly relax with the stimulation. She tilts her head back slightly and you itch to take her hair out of her ponytail. Not only to have the soft light reflecting off of it to highlight her silhouette more, but to have its soft ends brush against your knuckles. 

You lightly pinch her nipples and she tilts her head forward again, smiling.

“You’re distracting me,” she accuses with soft amusement.

“This wasn’t the plan?” you ask, not sure what exactly you’re distracting her from. You still your hands but don’t pull away. This is exactly what you were hoping for.

“Not tonight. I want to see you.”

“Oh.” You slide your hands back down to her hips. “So another night?”

“You’ll get your chance to worship me,” she promises, voice firmer than you were expecting. “Let me have my turn first.”

You swallow roughly. Smiling, she lifts her hips and pulls off your boxers. Your legs part automatically once they’re gone and she settles between them. Maybe she’s torturing you, or maybe she doesn’t want to be patient anymore, but she doesn’t kiss you like you’re expecting. At least, not your lips. She starts just below your ribcage, breath hot against your skin.

“Hands up. Keep them there,” Sue says. You obey even as you desperately wish to touch her. She rewards you with a proud smile. “Good girl.” You can’t hold eye contact. She doesn’t tell you to. She kisses her way down your stomach. It’s almost ticklish. She stops just above your bush, nose brushing your skin for a moment before she pulls back. 

“Already so wet,” she says wonderingly. Her fingers play with your soaked curls. Your thighs twitch but you manage to stay still. She’s so close to where you ache for her. 

She lingers long enough for you to say a desperate, “Please.” 

You can feel her smile when she brushes a kiss against your thigh. You see it in the way her eyes sparkle. You haven’t been able to take your eyes off of her this entire time. She trails her nose over your skin to nose at your bush again. Her fingers slide lower and finally push past your curls. You widen your legs further. Her fingers gather your wetness before smearing it around your entrance. You fear she’s going to tease again a moment before she slides one finger inside of you. She doesn’t push far. Only a few knuckles deep. Enough (Sue storm is actually touching you), yet not enough to soothe the ache inside of you. Thankfully, she’s just testing the waters. Her eyes watching you closely. When your reaction is pure desperation, she pushes in all the way. You moan. It’s a slight burn but it soothes the fire growing inside of you. A few strokes later she pauses and waits until your eyes clear enough to focus fully on her own. She tilts her head to rest against your thigh.

“Can I add another?” 

“Yes. Please.”

Another soft kiss to your thigh and another finger carefully pushed inside of you. You appreciate the slowness at first, being treated so delicately warms that hollow spot inside of you, but the slow pace stokes the fire gradually. You try not to be too obvious but it isn’t long before you’re squirming beneath her. Quiet, needy whimpers escaping you.

“Is there something you would like to ask for?” Instead of the amusement you’re expecting on her face, there’s a fervour around the edges. Her pupils are blown and her cheeks flushed.

“Yes,” you say, voice breathy. She waits, fingers never stopping, and it takes you a moment to realise you haven’t actually said the words yet. You don’t understand how such a slow pace has made you so spacey so fast. “Please, can you go faster? Please?”

“Of course.” She smiles so sweetly the heat inside of you flashes brighter.

Her face still lingers so closely to your heat. Close enough that you can feel the warmth of her breath brushing your clit. It makes your need stronger. The aching worse despite the relief of her faster pace. Still not enough, especially with the tease of this slight stimulation. Asking had worked last time, maybe it will again.

“Please,” you rasp out. Sue hums out a questioning noise. You struggle to get your mouth to work. How long has she been doing this to you? How long has this need been stoked enough to linger yet not to build? “Please,” you try again, “Use your mouth.” Worrying she might take this to mean stop using her fingers you quickly add, “On my clit. Please, Sue, please.”

“Such a good girl using your words,” she praises. You shiver. She takes a moment to nose at your curls again, to breathe you in.

You shudder when she finally uses her tongue. A soft, slow lick along the edge of your clit. Her fingers push into you again and the next lick is firm. Your thighs tense as they try to close again to keep her against you. The heat starts rising and the relief makes it rise even faster. Still, you can’t quite reach that peak. Her movements stay soft and slow.

Then her fingers slow down and she stops playing with your clit. You blink down at her in confusion. Her expression stays the same, intent. You think maybe she wants to prolong this moment. Maybe she doesn’t want you to come yet so she doesn’t have to stop touching you. If that’s why then you don’t mind, although you’re eager to touch her. Eventually she returns her attention to your clit. You steadily rise again. You’re close when she slows again. A whine is pulled from you.

“You’re doing so well,” she says like she isn’t torturing you.

“Please can I come?” 

“Not yet.”

You hold in another whine. She waits another moment, maybe for a protest from you or begging or a question, before starting again. Let me have my fun, she had said. So you will. She starts with her fingers again. Slowly building up a methodical pace. You can’t tell if she’s actually going faster this time or if it’s just wishful thinking. You moan when she begins to play with your clit again, tongue warm and wet. You moan again when she curls her fingers some time later. 

Time feels soft and slow as dripping syrup. You don’t know how long she’s been torturing you. Just a little longer, you think. Just a little more, you internally beg. Your hips start moving again without her permission. Squirming escalating to trying to push back against her fingers. They’re held down, the strange feeling of Sue’s forcefield against your skin.

Eventually, she slows to a stop once more and you can’t stop your desperate sound. Still, you don’t ask why or beg. She asked you to follow her instructions tonight and that’s want you want to do. Was that number three or four? You don’t want to know. 

“You’re doing so well for me,” she says, voice lower. Your fingers dig tighter into the sheets. You don’t know when you started but your fingers ache from it. The heat inside of you is unbearable. Much longer and you fear you’re going to break. 

The torture starts again and you whine quietly. She isn’t merciful. Still so, so slow. Your eyes scrunch in need. At some point, she moans low enough for you to look down. She’s made her hand invisible and she’s shifted low enough to see through it. You clench at the realisation she’s looking inside of you.

“Just like that,” she murmurs, “Such a good boy.” Her fingers curl, pushing against that spongey spot inside of you, and you clench down again. She does it again and your hope flares when she doesn’t slow down. You’re so, so close. One more time and you’ll come. She’ll be able to see you come. Her eyes stay fixated on your entrance. You try to control yourself, try to stay still and not get too loud. You fail but Sue doesn’t stop. She uses her free hand to rub firm circles around your clit.