CLEAN UP
What they had done to me was over. Letting me up from my knees, out of the
dungeon. I followed willingly as they led me towards a white bathroom with a
shower. Traci smiling as I reached the plain white door telling me to clean up
if I wanted. I nodded, silently thinking about the scene between us. Thoughts
flowing like quicksilver in my mind. It was oddly kinky, that she, not him,
brought me to orgasm practically passing out from pleasure. The fact that I
found it kinky, kinky to me. My head was like a three ring circus at times.
Perversity is in the eye of the beholder, is it not? I knew that I was not gay.
I liked men too much to be a lesbian, but she had reached some unknown part of
my response system. I was not sure what to do about it, but try to think it
through. A difficult prospect. At least to my reasoning. The rationale for
picking one sex over the other to `play' with, are not as clear as they used to
be. It's no longer as hard to cross over that gender line. I had never done
it, not even now. I did not truly think. Does having a woman fuck you like a
man; mean you've slept with her? Had sex with her? Even my questions were
unclear, or were they just a justification for having enjoyed having her take me
to climax? The thought of putting my hand on her breasts, seemed, well, obscene
to me. `You'd do it if they ordered you, wouldn't you?' That was the crux of
the entire question, when I was in slave mode, and into it. Yes, I would, just
to please them. It would be part of the whole S/M deal. Part of my agreement.
My code of conduct. As long as they were protected by latex, and I wanted the
action to continue. Yes, I would, willingly. So now what did that make me?
Nothing replaced a man, though. I can't even tell anyone what indefinable
quality it is that makes me like them. They are arrogant, bossy, mostly
irritating, but utterly fascinating. There is nothing else like one, at least
for me.
I love the feel of big hands. Hot, hard organs inside my slick sex. The taste
of the delicate pre-come droplets that leak from the cleft, after you start a
really long session of hot oral sex. I love the way they grab my hair before
they climax, holding my head into that concealing curly hair. The smell of
secret sex that you only get from burying your head under their scrotum to lick
their furry cracks. Big legs, and hairy buns. Skin both rough, and smooth. I
love men.
Women always seemed like equals. Even when a woman is on top with a man,
there's the potential for annihilating violence, contained by lust and desire.
A woman has power over a man. That's the difference. I had power over Jon,
because of my willingness, my hot sucking mouth. Power because I was able to
take that rough rock-solid organ into my throat and coax the release from within
it, drinking the warm juices with unfeigned relish. Traci just made me come.
Good head trip though, and I did like her. She reminded me of me. Good
imagination and a hot body.
I stepped quickly into steaming hot water, leaning my face against the clean
white tile. Cleansing from my body the scents and sweat of sex. It was
wonderful. Ivory soap, and astringent shampoo. Good everyday smells that
brought comfort. My mind slowed to lazy, warm circles. It was all the same
thought; had I gone too far? How far was too far, and would I know it when I
got there?
The spray was stinging, warm, and almost painful. Aches melting from my various
limbs slowly in the mist. I washed myself slowly, carefully between my legs.
Letting the thoughts clear my head as dirt cleared from my body. I stepped out
of the glass door of the shower to find that Traci was waiting for me, with a
towel. A soft terry cloth robe, held loosely in her hands. She was grinning at
me, and I hid my hotly blushing face partially behind the towel. She laughed in
delight at the visible crinkle around my eyes. I was grinning too.
"Well, you recovered quickly." I shrugged, negligently. "We've never had anyone
here handle as much of a mind-fuck as you did tonight. Nice job." I wasn't
sure what to say. This was technically my first time in a situation like this.
Were we on, or off? "You can just talk in here. It's safe." She said, and I
marveled at her perception. She seemed to know what I was thinking, and it had
to be from observation. I wasn't saying much. Okay, nothing. "Come out, and
talk when you're ready." I was relieved to have a bit of privacy.
"Thanks, Traci." She turned back to me, assessing me carefully, eyes filled
with intelligence and open interest.
"Did you like it?" Licking her lips, slowly. As if she couldn't wait to taste
me. Her eyes glowing with remembered passion. I had never had a woman look at
me like this in my life. She looked at me like a man does... Shrewdly
assessing the erotic potential of my deep valleys and firm mountains. It was
disconcerting and surprisingly arousing.
"I loved it." I was telling the truth. I was sure sincerity shone through
every part of my body. I meant it. I felt good. Calm, relaxed. A certain
indefinable tension gone from deep within me, the way I always felt after a
really good fuck. Ready to eat, drink, and think about what I had done. I put
the cream-colored robe on. It was soft. A comforting heaviness that only good
terrycloth has. The armor of the civilized... A veneer that changed the very
way I walked. I know I stood taller in it.
