‘The way I am?’
‘So … confident. And, like, just assuming that I’m going to do as you say. I imagined doms to be … shoutier. And like, you know, you smile a lot. I didn’t think they smiled. For some reason. Not sure why.’
‘Everyone’s different, Sarah. That’s humanity for you.’
‘I know. I feel a bit stupid, actually, but that stereotype had popped up in my fantasy life for so long, it became a kind of dom avatar.’
He nodded sagely.
‘So we’ve established that you find me incredibly sexy. This is worth knowing.’
I smirked at him, half-annoyed, all-attracted.
Without warning, he pushed his toecap between my thighs again and rubbed his shoe in my juices. The cold, smooth leather on my clit made me let out a tiny moan. I tried to get it away, but he shook his head.
‘Keep it there,’ he said. ‘Hold on to my leg if you need to. You’re going to masturbate on my shoe, Sarah, and when you can feel your orgasm coming, you’re going to tell me.’
‘I can’t do that!’ I said aghast.
‘You can. You’re going to. Look, you’ve already started.’
He was right. I’d gripped his calf and was rocking along in rhythm with his slow rotations from the ankle. My thighs flexed and relaxed, my bottom pumping in small but agitated motions, while I painted the leather with my streaming juices.
My breasts swung to and fro and I stared down at the dark cloth of Jasper’s trousers while he issued periodic words of encouragement.
‘Faster than that, Sarah. Really get stuck in. Feel it building up. You want it.’
I felt dirty and sordid, disgusted with myself, bringing myself off on a man’s shoe, but my arousal fed on those feelings and flowered all the more.
‘Touch your nipples,’ he said.
I let go of his leg with one hand and obeyed without question, stroking them mindlessly while the room faded out and became one giant dark mass of erotic concentration.
‘Look at you. One, two, hump my shoe. What a gorgeous little slut you are.’
I opened one eye. The word ‘slut’ had sounded oddly soft, an endearment, not an insult. His expression backed my perception up; his pupils were giant in his eyes.
‘Do you like it when I call you a slut, Sarah? Some girls don’t. If you don’t like it, I won’t say it.’
‘’S OK,’ I panted.
‘Good. Slutty little piece, rubbing her pussy all over my bloody expensive shoe … are you nearly there yet?’
‘Nearly … nearly …’
I dug my fingers into his calf. It was coming. I had to tell him, but if I told him … No, I had to tell him.
‘I’m going to come,’ I wailed, and he yanked his foot away so hard and fast that I almost fell off the stool, having to steady myself by lunging for his knee.
The first little spasms of climax flickered uselessly and then died, denied their moment. I wanted to order him to put his foot back, now.
‘Poor Sarah,’ he crooned. ‘She wanted it but she couldn’t have it. Take a few deep breaths, girl, and I’ll put it back there.’
I inhaled all the air in the room, levelling my head. Then his foot was back between my legs, taking all my frustrated lust up a notch, holding it there, keeping me on the brink with the slow teasing of my clit until I seized him and bucked on his shoe with my teeth gritted and my hair flying everywhere.
‘Don’t you dare come,’ he said, and I held myself still.
I can’t believe I held myself still. I was so close, and I’d spoiled my own orgasm again. But I wanted to please him, very much, and that seemed more important than my moment of fleeting pleasure.