Chapter 3
After an endless time swimming in an orgasmic sea, drowning and waking up a new woman, drowning again, waking again, he mercifully slowed and let her come back to Earth.
She looked back at him through her scattered hair. Earth was still the same, but she would never be. He pulled out of her. She rolled onto her back. Raising her head slightly was all she could do. She shivered all over, aftershock orgasms spiking at the slightest trigger, or even for no reason. He moved up to her head.
"Tell me."
He didn't have to explain. "That-- that."
"Take your time."
She took a few breaths. "That was by far the best orgasm I have ever had." Yes, the previous boyfriends had given her orgasms. Or at least what she thought was an orgasm before this man. Her world, she saw, was now divided between before and... whatever this was.
She got up on her elbow, level with his cock. She leaned over and began cleaning him with her tongue, but stopped. Slavegirl-- she admitted that persona had now taken a rightful place in her feminine consciousness-- knew she needed, and wanted, to ask permission. "My Lord, would you like your slave girl to clean her juice from your cock?" She was really being ridiculous with this dirty talk, even putting herself in the third person. She wasn't even sure if it did anything for him. But there was a warm energy that flowed within her when the words came out, as if their exit from her mouth removed more blockage of her-- her what? Sexuality? Feminine psyche? She didn't feel the need to analyze, just to enjoy. And the continuing buzz of pleasure that her pussy transmitted up her spine only encouraged more dirty talk. "Your slave girl promises she will do a thorough job." More eye-batting and smiling, really laying the slave thing on thick.
He slid back to rest on the floor against the couch. She followed, crawling between his open legs, and carefully licked all over. Her fluids were drying, so a bit sticky, but she was able to wet his skin with her tongue and clean him until he tasted only of cock again. The other part of her, the
old
part, as she thought now, that had also caused her to stop, was aghast. She'd never, ever, ever done this before for a man, never even thought that a woman might do this. But that old part had been destroyed by an orgasm in which every cell in her body, especially every neuron in her brain, extra-especially every one in her pleasure center, had exploded in a million ecstatic pieces. Just to show the old part who was boss, and because their sight was so masculine, she moved on to clean his balls.
He sighed and stretched out as she took his left ball into her mouth and lip-massaged it while licking the juice, salty with the sweat that had mixed in. He put his hand on her head and she imagined looking down on him with her golden hair spread over his crotch. She especially loved how vulnerable he had become. She could feel in the way his thighs squeezed her head and his hips tried to retreat that, though she was giving him great pleasure, she could also easily have caused him great pain. A new dimension appeared in her growing devotion to this man, a commitment to protect him as well as please him.
After spending far more time than necessary cleaning the first ball, she moved to its twin and sucked on that ovoid even more enthusiastically, making him tremble. She would protect him, but she also wanted to test the limits of the pleasure she could give him. At last she finished, licked her way up his still hard rod, sucked on the head to prime him, and looked up to catch his gaze, asking him with a look if he wanted her to finish him. She was lying prone between his legs, about to express her hope, in the most slavish way she could compose, that his balls were now ready to send his sperm down her throat.
"Your ass looks very inviting. Very cute."
Nice Girl cackled at her in her skull.
What are you going to do now, slut?
A memory appeared of a time her first bf had tried to show her a porno movie. It did nothing for her so they quickly moved on to necking and petting, but some graphic anal scenes stood out. She'd never let a guy do that to her, never even let one touch her back there. She didn't know what to say. Even the slave girl in her was silent.
"Have you ever let a man fuck your ass?"
All she could do was briefly take her lips off his tip and answer honestly: "No, my Lord." Her voice was hoarse from her recent moans.
"Then I will be the first."
As simple as that her virgin ass was his. Slave Girl recovered her voice. "Yes, Master." She resumed her fellating with renewed energy, hoping to return his attention and the situation to a blow job.
"Sit up."
She sat, still between his legs, his hardness in one hand, surprised at this situation she found herself in. He observed her, expecting.
"How did this happen?" she asked, not necessarily to him. "I mean, how did I end up here?" waving the non-cock-holding hand around, "Doing this." She squeezed his cock, then bent over and gave him a knob-polishing for emphasis. Science Girl wanted to estimate the time since she'd first met this man, but she stopped that. Way too short, single-digit hours. Too crazy.
"It didn't just happen to you. You did it. You decided."
"Well..."
"You asked me to take you home with me. You told me you fantasized about blowing me. You followed through the first chance I gave you."
