My Dirty Secret - by katiemichaels

  My Dirty Secret-bykatiemichaels

  I met him in a bar... It was two years ago now. I'd just started my new job in New Zealand, a few of my work friends decided we should go out for our Saturday night. We went down to the local pub, and sat, chatting and drinking- there was a game of rugby and heaps of young guys sat around drinking and yelling, celebrating each point. I wasn't so interested in them though, I'd had young boyfriends before and they all ended up annoying me after a few months so I simply watched as one by one the other girls paired off, and I was left sitting, sipping my drink and gazing at the screen.

  Later on that night a group of guys, they were probably all mid thirties; they looked like business men came in and sat at the bar near me. I didn't pay much attention at first but when I looked up, I realised one of them had his eyes pinned right on me, he didn't look away when I caught him; he was staring at my breasts. I blushed violet red and stood up, making for the restroom. God I was wet... he was so... self assured? I didn't know any boys or men who would so openly stare and appreciate my assets like that.

  When I returned they hadn't moved, I ordered another drink and wasn't all that surprised when I felt a presence behind me offering to pay on my behalf. I smiled politely and offered the seat, I realise now, he would have sat even if I hadn't have offered.

  He was polite, he asked my name what I did, and of course his smile grew wider when he heard my accent. He confessed he'd always loved the Australian accent. I gazed across at his friends, they seemed to be continually gazing at us, but I didn't think a lot of it, they were jealous that he was chatting me up, and I didn't particularly care. After a while he asked for my number, and I gave it to him, he was sweet, and the fact he didn't seem to want to get into my pants had surprised me enough to give him a chance.

  After we parted I met up with the girls and we sat chatting and drinking, the boys weren't that bad after all. When I decided it was time to go I made my way outside to find a cab, I'd originally come with the girls but they would all be going home with partners and I didn't want to be a trouble. He had followed me, I was a little surprised he was still there but when he offered me a lift I was sceptical. What was he really after? After stating that I wasn't going to sleep with him and would scream murder if he even thought of trying something I accepted, much to his amusement.

  His car was nice, fast and red, I could tell he had a bit of money, but he didn't act like it. He was sweet and funny, charming. He would look over and smile at me, made a few jokes and laughed at my own. When he pulled up to my apartment I planted a kiss on his cheek and he caught my jaw and kissed me. I couldn't particularly say it any other way as it was just that, he kissed me and didn't allow room for any protest. He tasted good, like scotch and musk.

  I was left, heart pounding sitting in his passenger seat, with soaked panties and a heart thundering. When I got out of the car he did too. He smiled at me, as though he knew every one of my dirty secrets, and when his arms wrapped around me I sighed and accepted the second kiss, even parting my lips and pressing my tongue back to his own. His hands were warm, gentle and after a while he patted my ass and pointed me towards the apartment, it was small, tiny really and as he pointed at it I was reluctant to go inside. "I'll call you" He murmured and I smiled.

  "Bye" were my only words. I walked, wobbly legged upstairs and collapsed into bed, hand in my panties I came and drifted into a dreamy sleep. I hadn't heard anything in a few days, and had begun to forget about the mystery man when, while at work a delivery arrived. A huge bunch of flowers with an invitation to dinner, my heart melted. When he called that afternoon I gushed and accepted, I didn't even ask how he knew where I worked. Perhaps he'd asked one of the girls in the bar- needless to say it was extremely romantic.

  I didn't know what to wear, I was so nervous, and yet, I didn't understand why I would be, he was the one who'd made a move, he liked the way I looked, and I knew already he loved my large breasts. So I made sure I picked something with a dipping neckline. A red dress, which showed plenty of cleavage swept up in a black lace bra. When the doorbell rung I almost ran to answer it, but calmed myself and allowed him inside while I "finished up". To be honest I'd been waiting for half an hour before he'd even arrived.

  He took me to a small restaurant on the other side of town. The conversation didn't ease up, I'd catch him sneaking glances at my cleavage but didn't pull him up on it, he held my hand and paid and walked me to the car where he swept me close and kissed me deeply. I melted again, blushing as his fingers swept up and pressed into the side of my left breast. He gazed into my eyes and I pulled back a little, embarrassed that he would touch me like that in public. "I would be lying if I said I didn't want you..." he whispered to me and I looked away, still embarrassed, still so young, naive. He pulled my eyes back so that I was gazing up at him and he kissed me sweetly before stroking my cheek and kissing my forehead, he hugged me again and winked, opening the car door and helping me back inside.

  I didn't ask him where we were going, I already knew. I simply gazed at the change of landscape, the open road and wider spaces calmed my nerves, for the first time, things were quiet between us. His hand had rest against my thigh and then taken my own fingers, he kept looking across at me, as though he was deep in thought. I stayed silent, I was too nervous to say anything, I felt like I might squeak if I even tried.

  He pulled into his house, and inside the garage looked across at me before smiling, I couldn't help it- I grinned right back. He opened the door and helped me out, I'd never had a man do that for me, he insisted on it. I felt like a princess as he guided me inside and kissing my shoulder he took my coat and showed me to his kitchen. He pulled out two glasses and filled them with wine before handing one to me and again guiding me towards the lounge.

  As we sat he pulled me in, against him and kissed me gently, stroking my neck, shoulders and down, even gently stroking my breasts on the outside of my dress, I would go quiet when he did this, and he would smile again, as though he knew every single secret within body. When he pulled me onto his lap I murmured a small protest, he stopped and gazed into my eyes. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do, ok?" He spoke gently, and I realised he knew, that I was a virgin, and that he didn't care, that he would be gentle and would listen to me. I nodded, I'd always felt uncomfortable about myself.

  As he pulled off my dress he began to kiss me, all over, I blushed but he kept kissing, until I thought I might die. It got worse, he pulled off my panties and bra next. My cheeks must have been bright red by now, as he gazed down at me I cleared my throat and I thought I might try and crawl into a hole and die. He made me look at him again and I began to relax. His fingers wandered over my body, down, and he took my breasts, stroked them, kissed licked and sucked them. I could tell he adored them, but it wasn't until his fingers wandered down, and he began to stroke my soaked clit that I completely relaxed. He made me cum and watched as I panted, and gasped beneath him. He had this look of complete, triumph. It made me want to laugh, but instead I sat up and kissed him.

  My fingers began to pick at his own clothes. I wanted to see him now, and he allowed me to explore. I kissed his neck, down, over his chest and nipples and ended laying with my head cradled in his lap. He lifted for his pants, I was surprised to find him mostly hard already, my fingers wrapped around his impressive cock. I couldn't imagine any of my ex boyfriends with such a beautiful cock.

  He sighed as I stroked up, and gazing up he had relaxed back, he wasn't even watching what I was doing, He didn't care. He just enjoyed my gentle eager exploration. I'd watched so much porn in my life I was sure I would know what to do. But now, with his hands in my hair and his hips lifting up I felt out of my depth. My heart began to race as my cheeks flushed and his cock rubbed against my lips, I kissed it but whimpered. His eyes parted quickly, and in a flash he'd let go of my hair and cradled my cheek in his fingers. His eyes were tender, I parted my lips and sucked him, even though he'd began to protest the action. His groan was impressive. I must have done something right because he was arching and bucking in rhythm with my small, but attentive sucks. My fingers entertained the bottom of his length while my mouth adjusted to the feel of sucking and licking a hard cock.

  He lay back, it felt like I'd been sucking for hours when he finally pulled back, his chest was raising a little quicker now and he raised an eyebrow at me, asking if I was determined to make him cum or if I'd let him touch me again. I blushed and climbed into his lap. I think he liked that. That I was so new, so- well, innocent may not be the right word- but, untouched. He sat me back and handed me my wine, I took a few more sips and we kissed. He wasn't rushing, he was just relaxed, it made me so happy I just gazed across at him.

  He began to ask me what I'd done, sexually, he wanted to be sure. I answered quietly at first, but when he got closer and pulled me onto his lap I giggled and sighed. He kissed me and I relaxed once more. He leant up and pressed his lips to my ear, asking if I was on birth control... I said yes. He asked if I wanted him to wear a condom... I shivered as his cock began to rub between my legs. I thought I might go crazy if he had to go and find one so I said no. I thought later I was stupid to have, but. I felt as though I could trust him, especially as he'd been so good to me already. When he relaxed back and pulled me up, positioning me above him he sighed.

  "It will hurt, but, tell me when you're ready, I won't go before then." I nodded, and, as I was already so wet he slipped inside of me, deep, hard and fast. I felt the searing pain at first, but it wasn't as bad as I'd expected. When we levelled he kissed me deeply, and stroked me, down he began to rub my clit and I shivered. How had he known that I loved that? I groaned when he lifted back a little, and gently filled me once more, it was only an inch but it felt- even more amazing than I'd imagined.

  When he knew I was ready he rolled me so I was laying on the couch, and he knelt up, and began to fuck me. It was amazing, perfect. He would lean down and kiss me, and then lean up to fuck me hard, massaging my breasts, he never hurt me, not this time. He was sweet, caring... he made me cum and cum, he reached over to the table and pulled out a small vibrator, pressing it to my clit he continued to fuck me. I was panting and sweating, he pressed it to my ass and I groaned, parted my legs some more, wiggling it in he smiled and then came deep inside me. He lay against me. I love it, the feel of his heavy warmth on my skin. It took my breath away and I wrapped my arms around him. When I opened my eyes again he was sitting up, stroking my breasts. He picked me up and walked me to the shower, he kissed me, washed me, my hair and held me close. I fell asleep on his chest in his magnificent bed.

  The next morning we fucked again, he rolled me over and took me without any foreplay, he'd felt how wet I was already for him and decided we didn't need to waste the time. After breakfast he ate me, and I sucked him. He rewarded my efforts with a mouth full of cum and then, he drove me home. He came up inside again and we lay on the couch, chatting quietly and kissing.

  When he left I walked around in a daze, and again, for the rest of the next days at work. I'd call him whenever I got a chance, my shifts were awkward. I wanted to see him again and I told him that, I could almost hear the smile in his voice when I told him that. And the depth of his voice grew when I told him I wanted to feel him again. He drove over at midnight and fucked me to sleep. I didn't know how long we'd been going for, I didn't care. When I woke up there was a note on his pillow with some flowers apologising as he'd had to go to work.

  We continued like that for months, we'd go out when we were both free, he'd sleep over, or I'd sleep over with him. The sex was amazing. A mixture of hard deep fucking and gentle love making. He'd captured my heart. And everyone knew, they could see the change, I was truly happy for the first time in my life. Even my mother knew it, and she was across the ocean.

  One night when I was laying in his bed, gazing into space, his chest rising and falling gently he asked me if I wanted to move in. It shocked me, especially considering I knew he wasn't the kind of person to settle down. I'd learnt so much about him, he liked his space, his own home. But, it made me so happy. So... of course I said yes, and moved most of my things in. He'd insisted I kept my own place close to the hospital in case I needed somewhere to crash. Later I realised how smart this was, it was useful, for both of us, especially if I finished late and had to start early. And really, our times were so different, I would be in and out, and he liked his routine. It gave him plenty of time to enjoy his peace and quiet, and when I was home, it gave us plenty more time to be together.

  About a year into our relationship I noticed things began to change. I wasn't upset about it though. He still loved me, and I him. We still talked more than ever, but it changed subtly. Where before he would kiss me, stroke me and get me entirely ready to fuck he stopped. Instead he would often roll me over in the middle of the night and fuck me. I would reach out, grab the headboard and groan, scream for him. He loved it when I did that, and I loved him doing it to me.

  I guess the age difference had always made our relationship a little different. He mentored me through hard times at work, he listened and advised me about my parents. He was dominant, and I submissive. I knew that, he knew that but we never really spoke it. Not until one night. He had come home early, when I got home from work I was tired, and in a bad mood. I didn't particularly know what had put it into me but when he came up behind me and kissed my neck I pushed him away. I instantly changed my mind of course. I shouldn't have done it and turned towards him, reaching out towards him, he gazed down at me with a hard expression. I apologised, quickly and profusely and pulled him closer, he entertained it and wrapped his fingers in my hair, I leant up and kissed him sweetly, softly.

  When he stepped away I was confused. He'd always given me sex whenever I wanted it... and now I realise I wanted it a lot more than other girls did. I gazed at him, my heart pounded. I thought that maybe this was it, maybe he was sick of me and didn't want me anymore. But he smiled as he saw the worry in my eyes. He took my hand and pulled me to the couch we'd first made love on.

  He pulled me into him and whispered his love, and then began to explain how he thought we should explore something new. That perhaps, what I really needed was to be dominated. Of course I'd seen the videos, girls being whipped and paddled into complete slavery, screaming out their pain and then being fucked like animals. I recoiled, I didn't want that. But he kept at it, explaining that it would be different. That he wouldn't be my master, but my lover... who sometimes dominated me for our mutual enjoyment. That at any time I could tell him I'd had enough and he'd stop, but that I had to trust him to know when I'd had enough.

  I was unsure. But I'd always trusted him, he'd shown me that I could. Even though he was busy he always made time to be there for me. And he'd never hurt me before. (Well.. apart from the first time he fucked my ass.. but that's another story all in itself....). So, I agreed, to at least give it a try, I promised I would do it but if I didn't enjoy it that I would tell him. He kissed me so passionately, I smiled. I'd made him happy.

  It was simple at first, that night he lay me in his lap and stroked my hair, watching his own tv and drinking his wine. I didn't say much, answered when he asked things, but I wasn't game to test the boundaries. When it was time for bed he placed me on my hands and knees and instructed I follow him into bed. But we didn't go to our bedroom, we went to one of the spare rooms at the back of the house. We never used this one. I was surprised when he opened the door and I saw the large bed, there were sheets and blankets, but it had chains hooked to it. I hadn't been in the room for weeks. He must have been planning it.

  He'd even decked it out with tables of vibes and dildos. There were even some different costumes hanging up. My eyes were wide, I must have looked bewildered. He laughed softly and pulled me up, and let me walk around. He instructed me to choose two things I most wanted to try out. It took me half an hour to find two... but two things caught my eye the most. There was a costume, it was a naughty school girl. The skirt ruffled, the top tied around breasts. And a leather paddle. I was amazed, we'd never done anything like this before...

  He instructed me to change, and I did. I felt naughty already, and, I'd left off the panties per his request. My pussy was soaked. The role seemed to flow so easily. He took on that of a principal, and I, the naughty little girl. He bent me over his lap, and exposing my ass told me what a bad girl I was for wearing no panties. The leather paddle came down on my ass with hard whacks. But, what amazed me was that I loved it. I would complain every now and then when he hit hard, but I knew my juices were dripping slowly from my pussy down the inside of my thighs. I really felt naughty.

  He slowed up and put the paddle away, humming as he rubbed his fingers across my ass. I played the part, telling him it was wrong to touch me like that. But he didn't care. He hissed and smacked my ass, told me he could do whatever he wanted and shoved two fingers into my dripping cunt. He called it that, cunt, for the first time. He hissed and fingered me until I was spilling my juices all over his hand. I gasped as he almost brought me to orgasm, and then pulled his fingers away. I groaned as he did, why had he stopped?

  I bit my lip and whined for more. But he picked me up and placed me onto the bed. Leather fluffy cuffs wrapped around my ankles and wrists. He placed a foam triangle beneath me, angling my hips upwards and he placed a blindfold over my eyes. I whimpered, he told me for now he would leave my lips untouched, and, in a serious tone he told me to say the word Alligator if I really wanted him to stop. Later he would teach me how to signal for him, how to use green yellow and red to let him know how far he could take things.

  For that night I was his slut. He fucked my cunt... He even fucked my ass, while he called me his slut, his dirty little cunt... he was a different man, and I loved it. I knew it was the dominant speaking, because we were in this room and not our bedroom. When he fucked me here, I could expect the dirty names, I enjoyed them, I moaned them for him, I begged him to orgasm, and he left me panting and wanting more. Then, when we were done he would untie me, take me to our bedroom and shower with me, we would climb into bed, sometimes we would make love, others we would fall asleep and fuck in the morning.

  I loved this new part in our lives. I realised, that, he knew that it was what I needed the very first time we met, and I knew that he didn't bring it up because I was too insecure to accept it. We would sometimes go two weeks without using the room. Sometimes, we wouldn't need the room, sometimes, after a hard day at work he would come home to find me on my hands and knees, naked and spread before the doorway in offering. He loved these days, the days I offered myself freely to whatever it was he wanted to do. Sometimes I needed it more than he knew. So I began to whisper the word green. He would paddle me harder, until I whispered yellow, sometimes he would slow down, others he would keep going until, amongst screams of no.. Stop... I would whisper red. And only then would he stop. He told me later that each time I would endure it longer, take it harder. And one time, he had to decide to stop, before he bruised my ass so bad I wouldn't be able to walk or sit for days.

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