delectable ways of spending a Monday night

The first time I initiated a date with Lars he invited me round for dinner. Previously, we’d met up at around half past ten or later but this time he suggested anything between half seven and eight. He was in the middle of cooking a risotto when I arrived. His brand of music was playing in the living room and it filtered easily through to the kitchen – how can I describe it? It has a bass beat, low, rhythmic and primal – that’s what you notice first and then the melody follows, there might be vocals or it could just be instrumental. He was drinking a Chablis but I’d brought over a bottle of Bordeaux so he poured me a glass of this as we chatted comfortably about his day, the collaborative efforts with colleagues, juggling responsibilities and deadlines and also my first day back at work after a three week break. He did not have to start until the following day, preferring to work at a furious pace a three day week thus affording himself the luxury of a four day weekend. My lover is a man of extremes.

Over dinner I learnt a little more about his current partner of over a decade and a half, how they’d met on a now defunct fetish website, the couples and people they encountered and continued their liaisons with. I shared a little more about myself, where I’m at and it forces me to think about what I want, what I’m hoping for. I tell Lars about the boundaries Max and I are constantly pushing against – that incident of cheek slapping which surprised the both of us at how much we found it arousing. In response to my question he tells me that he is a pleaser and would do anything that his partner wants.

Later, he ties me to his bed – there are metal rings riveted into the four corners and he has a very long black silky rope along with shorter greyish ones. The Boy Scout knots were a combination of secure and easily undone as I was to find out later. But first, having secured me on his bed his demeanour changed to stern and contemptuous. He lashed me not too gently with a leather whip whose end held easily twenty more lengths of leather – a sort of cat-o-nine-tails, but without the knots. It felt decadent and of course he also rubbed me gently and then a lot harder between my legs, taking turns with the whip and his hands. He had an out of this world vibrator ending in an attachment which stimulated all the essential parts of a woman. While ‘torturing’ me he would intermittently hold a length of rope taut against my throat for no more than half a second – it felt exciting and dangerous and titillating.

And then it was suddenly over and he swiftly pulled the ropes and my limbs were freed! He was sweetness and gentleness now and the kisses he caressed my body were soft and light.   Later we tidied up after ourselves and by the time I got dressed it was ten minutes to midnight – Cinders has had her ball.

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