I don’t know if I would have spoken so boldly if Ben had not paid me that visit tonight and sent me tingling. I almost regretted the words coming out of my mouth and hoped I hadn’t offended him. All the same though, I didn’t understand why we hadn’t slept together. We were both young, attractive people with prime sexual appetites, I’m sure.

It was May now and we’d met in December at a Christmas themed Fetish Party, thrown by the local BDSM community. I remember  following Leah around, who was there with that months flavour, feeling like I was Alice inWonderland. I’d been going along to club events and parties for a few years with her, but this was the first time falling into a BDSM style event. There were bodies everywhere, clad with corseted waists, buxom busts, fishnet legs, torsos and arms. Latex, lace and leather, people indisposed in various pursuits of pleasure; spanking, kissing, flogging, dancing and talking away in the dim light. I tried to keep close to her and diverting my eyes from other peoples gaze so they might not think me rude for staring. All the while taking it in with curious desire.
Ben was introduced to us by Leah’s date, who lead us over to a table which was  occupied by well dressed guys and a girl sitting poised, laced up in a corset. I’d been glancing around trying not to look like a fish out of water, but smiled and nodded a “Hello” when introduced to him. I wasn’t instantly captivated by him, too nervous to interact with my senses doing backflips and adrenaline heating within me. I found a space over by the wall, nudging my body to rest into the wood panels so I could absorb the atmosphere comfortably. I watched on with wide eyes as a flurry of excitement pooled in front of the stage, two performers taking turns in spanking the bare bottom of a man bent over a bench.

It was a new world for me. A Profound understanding of my own sexual desires and interests revealed to me in exciting and delicious ways that I needed to process.

When it came time to leave we were heading off in separate directions. Ben had called out wanting to know if it was safe for me to walk alone. I tried to look to Leah but she’d already take off up the street with her back turned to me. In the better light of the street I could see him clearly now. His short, dark hair combed back and that just shaven, clean faced look with his eyes looking at me in concern.
“Yeah, I just live on the other side of the piazza, down there.” I pointed off into the darker part of the street. Living in a smaller city meant things weren’t open 24/7 as they were in other places, or so I’m told.
“I’m parked down that way, I can walk with you.” He half smiled, pointing in the same direction. I didn’t get the feeling he was asking me but he didn’t sound too demanding either, so I just shrugged and said ok. Leah seemed to have met him before so the company for the walk was appreciated. He walked at least two arms length away from me, with a slow deliberate dawdled, not my usual hustle and bustle pace, making me slow down to keep up. We didn’t officially start dating until the middle of February, after we’d bumped into each other at another event. I was actually surprised when he’d asked me to see him again because he didn’t appear to give off any signals that I picked up as being interested.

I liked the anticipation that seemed to build between us, but wondered if maybe we hadn’t started a sexual relationship because he wasn’t interested in me that way. Sure, we had talked in depth about fantasies and things that we wanted to do together, we’d even flirted very close to experiencing some of them, like the game in the hills. I believe my sexual appetite to be a little hyper at times, having out lasted most of my previous relationships in this way. Insatiable and never well matched. I did like Ben, but was growing anxious that maybe we would not be compatible in this. I didn’t want to get attached before we could have moved on, leaving incompatibility behind us.

“Is that all I am to you?” There was a cool tone in his reply, but somehow it still felt stern and pointed. I wondered if he was still smirking because I couldn’t tell anymore. I let my body fall over the side of my couch, flopping down onto the big blue suede cushions and I buried my face into the pillows that tried to prop my head up.

“No”, I managed to squeak, muffling through my own embarrassment.
“No?”
“I’m not holding it against you, I just worry that you’re friend zoning me. That’s what the cool kids are calling it these days, right?” The words fell out of my mouth, still muffled and my face brightening in heat and red, making me grateful he couldn’t see how pathetic I looked.
“I don’t bite, flirt and stalk my friends Peyton.” He laughed, “If you want to have sex Peyton, all you have to do is ask.” I gulped at his words and twisted my body, wriggling and jolting about in the quiet of my apartment. The tight seam of my jeans feeling suddenly more snug in the areas that craved him. I wiggled more, letting the heat of the friction I created envelope my need.
“I thought it was obvious, that I was obviously wanting…”
“You are Peyton, but I want you to tell me yourself. It’s not enough that you look like you’re sizzling a firecracker in your loins.” The words splayed through me and I reached to pop the button of my pants, frustrated by the claustrophobic effect they were having.
“Jesus Christ Ben!” I blurted out in frustration, wrestling to worm my way out of my pants. Panting and sighing in my mission I fell off the couch, hitting my elbow on the coffee table. “Ah Fuck!” I yelped.
“What on earth is going on there?” He asked in a suddenly stern voice.
“I just, I was taking my pants off and fell off the couch into the coffee table.”
“You were taking your pants off? For what reason?” The pain in my elbow still not subsided, I sat up to stare at the entangled pants still attached to my feet and freed my hands to yank them off. I blushed seeing that moisture had collected in the inner lining of the denim from my own excitement.
“I had to remove them, they were causing a hazard to my sensibility.” I giggled a little, “You want me to ask you, to have sex with me? Why?”
“I want you to beg, actually.” His voice grinning at my predicament.

3 Comments

  1. Responding to comments is generally considered a good practice for bloggers. It encourages engagement in the ongoing stories you share. When you don’t respond, it has an opposite effect.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I apologise for not responding sooner, I did like your comment when it popped up and had intended to return to respond. I appreciate that you took time to leave comments, thank you.

      Liked by 1 person

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