Something New From a New Contributor!

Here is something from our newest contributor, Thatgrrl.

ThatGrrrl is a 40ish sub living a complicated personal life and managing lots of data on a daily basis in North Carolina. She is a cat lover, book reader, tea drinker, and Mensa member.

Be Still….

Sleeping, she waits for him to come to her. A light touch on her lips brings her slowly awake, and she senses a presence. She hopes it is him, but the moon is new and the room is dark. The door is closed, and she is alone with someone.

She feels warm breath in her hair, and hears a whispering voice that says, "Be still. Very, very still." And then she feels a coldness on her cheek, juxtaposed against the warmth of the voice in her ear. Her own breath comes a little faster, and warmth starts to spread in her body. At the same time, a tinge of fear colors the darkness in her eyes.

"Who?" she says, and slightly turns her head. But she realizes very quickly that was a mistake, because the coldness on her cheek turns to heat as something sharp pinches her skin. Is it a pinch? Is it a cut? She can't tell.

And then she feels warmth on her cheek, the warm wetness of a drop of blood, or is it a tear? A finger wipes it from her cheek, and offers it to her lips, to her tongue. She willingly accepts it, still unable to discern the source.

"I told you to be still, baby. I meant it." The voice whispers in her ear, and she swallows. "I'm sorry. I'll be still. I promise."

Strong hands encircle her wrists, lifting her hands above her head, holding them there. She feels the weight of another joining her on the bed, but she doesn't move, doesn't shift her position, because she's been told to be still.

"Good girl." She smiles at this highest of praise.

Her smile is engulfed by his lips as he kisses her, slowly, deeply, strongly. Her arms ache to hold him, to touch him, the way her heart aches to be his, but she remains true to her promise. She doesn't move, except to breathe.

She feels his lips caress her cheek, feels his tongue dart out and lick her where the coldness pinched her, and her heart skips a beat. She has no control over her heart.

He draws back from her, but she feels his presence above her on the bed. He whispers in her ear again. "You're mine, aren't you? Mine to do with what I will. Yes, you are." Quietly, carefully, she replies, still not knowing for sure who is asking the question, "Yes. Yes, I am." Hoping it's him, the one she's been waiting for. The one she loves. The one she needs.

A sound she can't identify fills her mind. But then, another sound follows almost immediately, the second one is a sound that she hears in her dreams, when she's driving, working, reading, thinking, eating, living, a sound that she craves the source of. A sound that makes her body convulse. A sound that makes her mind swirl down into darker realms of pleasure.. A sound that she can't live without.

Fear covers her, knowing that she promised him she would be still, but, at the sound, the beautiful sound, her body disobeyed of its own accord, and she shuddered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." but he hushes her with a kiss. He knows the effect that sound has on her, on her body and on her soul. "It's ok, baby. Don't be afraid."

She feels the coldness under her chin, lifting it, and she gladly obeys the unspoken command, willingly exposes her tender throat to him.. She feels his lips on her skin, and then a small nip, a gentle bite, and a tiny sound escapes from her.

“Yes. Please. Yes.”