Chapter 2 

The day had crawled by. It had passed terribly slowly. I had spent the day watching specks of dust floating in the room. I was giddy and frustrated at the same time. But then it was time to go. They had brought dinner. I had eaten a little, but really I wasn’t all that hungry. 

I had wondered what to wear for her. 

I wanted to be feminine for her. Beautiful. Like I was her girl. I wanted to be her Juliet.  

I had taken a shower, done my hair and picked the only dress I had brought along. I wasn’t really expecting much from London in spring and lockdown. So I had brought only one sundress. It was a little flimsy, fairly short with spaghetti straps and to be honest quite challenging. I hadn’t really planned on wearing it. The reason I had brought is was because it was so light and because it represented the hope of finding someone for who I might want to be sexy. Well, against all odds I had found her before I had actually arrived in London properly.  

I put on my makeup, I put on the dress, but I didn’t bother with a bra or panties. She shouldn’t have to bother with my underwear. No fabric should needlessly obstruct her access to my body. 

I wondered what time she was expecting me, but then I heard the sound of her trombone. Dark and dull and dampened from having to cross through walls and doors. 

The music sounded rhythmic, with a distinct beat.  

It was loud enough that the man in the hotel room nearby almost immediately started to yell, “Stop this racket! I swear, I will come out and fuck you up, if you don’t stop this right away! I swear to God!” 

Tensions were running high. I couldn’t blame the man.  

Carefully I opened the door and looked out. There was no one in the hallway, and so I quickly ran to her door, the sound of her trombone getting louder. 

I knocked on her door. First gently, but when I realized that she didn’t hear me, more forcefully. 

The music stopped and yelled, “Go away, angry man!” 

The trombone started playing again, and I could almost hear her dancing to her own music. 

“It’s me! Let me in!” I yelled in slight panic. 

The music stopped. 

“Oh! Hang on!” 

She opened the door, her instrument in one hand, and with the other she pulled me into the room, and I landed right in her arms. Just before I was swallowed by her big hug, I looked into her massive smile. Huge as an avalanche of joy, and it wiped away any sadness of the day.  

She whispered seductively, “I’ve missed you!” and then gently bit my earlobe. 

“I’ve missed you too!” 

She pulled it down, carefully holding the sensitive flesh between her teeth. 

It didn’t hurt, she was gentle. The fact, that she seemed to know, what she was doing, made me trust her once again. 

“There are all sorts of nasty things I want to do to you!” 

Her warm breath with its sweet venom was slithering through my ear, dizzying me.  

Where did she find those words, I wondered. 

I didn’t reply, I didn’t say anything. I just wanted to be hers, I wanted her to do whatever she wanted with me. I wanted to submit to her in the most gentle fashion in which she sported her dominance over me so elegantly.  

“Let’s have some fun.” She laughed out loud, and I was confused about that change of pace. 

At the same time, she started to jump. First softly, because I was still locked in her embrace, then more forcefully when I joined her. She began to hum the music she had just played, and I we both danced in the tiny hotel room to that beat.  

It made no sense other than that all that energy had to go somewhere. It was weird. 

She held me by my hand and made me twirl, and I did my best to make the hem of my dress fly as high as I could to show her as much of my naked ass as possible. 

But really what struck me was her outfit. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a white blouse. It was too big for her, like a man’s shirt, and it was open except for a loose knot which tied the hems. It gave her essentially nothing but cleavage. From her neck to her belly button. However the most breathtaking thing was the fact that this open shirt revealed a dangerous amount of her small, pale boobs. My eyes were transfixed on how much her movements revealed of them. How the fabric was pushed aside.  

She really looked like Romeo from the movie, infused with an overdose of female sex appeal. It was probably me turning around that made me feel dizzy, but I like to believe that it was also her pure sexiness. Holy! 

When I tripped, her arms were there to catch me. She held me, and I felt like I was secure. I pressed my body against hers, and she stroked my hair, like she had rescued me, as if I was some damsel in distress.  

Amelia kissed my forehead as if to console me, and I let out a little sigh to show her my approval.  

I felt safe. 

“I see what you’re doing!” she whispered. 

“What am I doing?” 

“You are dressed like a floozy!” 

“A floozy? No one has ever called me that!” 

“But you are one, seriously!”  

We both laughed. 

“I don’t want to be a floozy!” 

“Then maybe Romeo’s harlot?” 

“I will be your harlot, if you want me to, fair Romeo!” 

We both laughed and fell into each other’s arms. Then she kissed me. It was one of those demanding kisses. She pushed me back against the wall, and I felt the rough surface of the wallpaper rub against my shoulder blades.  

Her tongue had invaded me, and I was letting it happen. I wanted my faked resistance to be futile. I wanted to be conquered by her. 

And so it was futile. I didn’t put up much of a fight. Just enough to tickle her instincts. 

A lesbian predator hunting for a me, her gay prey. 

I allowed her thigh to rest between my knees. I even pressed my groin against her jeans. I hoped that she would feel through the denim that I wasn’t wearing any underwear.  

I guess my prey-ish behavior worked. She got carried away with her kisses, they became more forceful. She bent my neck and kissed me, even scraped with her teeth over my skin. 

I felt the weight of her body against mine. My shoulder blades digging more into the wall. It didn’t hurt. It just showed me that I had no say in all of this. That I was there to endure or to enjoy, but I had no decision to make. I was the subject of whatever she deemed fit to do to me. 

There was her hand again, touching my throat, just casually hinting at what she might be able to do. I wouldn’t even try to resist.  

She backed off a little bit, looked at me, with only her hand on my throat. 

I swallowed, as if I was nervous, but really just to feel the palm of her hand against my Adam’s apple. 

“You look incredibly hot! My little, submissive floozy!” 

I nodded modestly. 

She looked at me and whispered as if not to interrupt our play, “Is everything okay?” 

I nodded yes.  

She took her hands off my neck, gently took my hand, and then she pulled me from the wall, reached around my back and lowered the zipper of my dress.  

I immediately felt it loosen around my back.  

Amelia started to hum her music again, but this time slower, this time an octave lower. We danced again, and she smiled again, mischievously this time. The spaghetti straps of my sundress didn’t want to stay on my shoulders. 

She enjoyed how I struggled to keep it up, as she held my hand, and I did fairly well, keeping the straps up on my shoulder. Of course, what I really wanted was to present myself to her, but the game we played demanded me to resist.  

But then she just changed the game. 

“This is boring!” she said and flicked the straps off my shoulders. 

Like a veil, the soft dress slid off my body. Although it was the softest fabric, my erect nipples felt the sensation of the fabric falling down my breasts almost painfully. The dress slid over my hips and down my thighs until it lay crumpled on the floor.  

I was naked. 

“Oh wow!” Amelia exclaimed smiling. “Let me take a look at you!” 

She took two steps back and let go of my hand.  

I suddenly felt very self-conscious. I didn’t know what to do, how to stand, what to do with my arms. And so I tiptoed around with some awkward movements before I vaguely covered my breasts with one arm and my groin with the other.  

She just stood there, looking at me, smiling. Her grey eyes roamed all over my body. It felt like I could almost feel her gaze on my thighs, my belly, maybe even trying to move my hands away to uncover what they were shielding.  

“God, how I love your pretend modesty!” she whispered. “You look so fucking gorgeous!”  

This one curse word stuck out. 

I didn’t know how to react though, in my embarrassment, I bent my knee, turned my hips a little as if I could cover myself a little more. 

And I didn’t say anything, I just lowered my head.  

I had once seen a marble sculpture of a young nude woman in a similar pose. I tried to stand like her. And I felt like one. Exposed to Amelia’s gaze, unable to do anything about it. The air of the room falling cold on my skin, cooling it to the temperature of marble. As if the molecules of the air were shamelessly taking advantage of my nudity, robbing me of yet another thing I owned: The warmth of my body. 

“May I see your… secret?” 

I was surprised that she asked. She could have ordered me. I would have obeyed.  

Without looking up, I nodded and hesitantly dropped my arms to my hips.  

The elegance of my pose was gone now. Amelia’s gaze became more greedy.  

“Turn around… please!”  

Her last word was tacked on, as if she had initially forgotten her manners.  

I turned around, presenting my back to her.  

“God, you are such a beautiful creature! Like a unicorn come to life!” 

Her words gifted me with the warmth, the cool air of the room was taking away from me. 

“Please come!” 

She nodded reassuringly, as she held out her hand. I took it, and she led me on the bed.  

I crawled on it. 

“All the way to the end!” 

I suddenly became aware of how much of my butt I exposed to her, as I crawled to the head of the bed.  

She walked around, propped a pillow on the headboard, and tapped it gently to direct me.  

I rested against the pillow, which felt weird. I didn’t want to slouch, and so I pushed back my shoulders to present my chest to her.  

She sat on the back, crossed her legs.  

It was such a difference of power!  

She was fully dressed, at ease, in charge. I was naked, exposed, at her mercy. It felt like I had given up all control of everything.  

Amelia just sat there, watching me, and it made me feel nervous, uncomfortable. I inhaled and exhaled. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, breaking the play for a moment, genuinely concerned. 

I just nodded. I was more than okay. Me being at her mercy felt so right. So good. I was stripped of everything. Any control, any decision was gone. I was in her hands. I wanted to show her how much more I was willing to sacrifice to her. She would just have to ask.  

I lifted my head, looked her in the eyes, and nodded, embarrassed that I actually enjoyed this when I shouldn’t. 

“Touch your nipples!” she ordered. 

I gently touched them. A jolt of electricity shot through them which surprised me. I looked up at her.   

“Continue!” 

I did, and it felt warm but also wrong with her watching me play with myself. I closed my eyes to enjoy this moment, but then I felt that it really should be her fingers on my breasts, and I opened my eyes to look into hers.  

“Thank you,” she said, which surprised me on the one hand, on the other hand, I also understood. 

“I want you to pull on your left nipple.” 

I rolled it between my fingers and then started to pull. There was a heaviness in my breast. First vague, like it had no source, then I felt it sting. I didn’t know how far she wanted me to go. Her face didn’t give me any clues. 

She commanded me to move to the other nipple and just sat there, enjoying how I tormented myself. She never told me to pull harder or to take it easy. It felt so unfair. She didn’t tell me how much she expected from me, but at the same time, I wanted to please her. I didn’t like the discomfort, I didn’t want to inflict pain on myself. But I wanted to please her.  

She made me do this for a while. I was longing for her to take over. I wanted her fingers on my nipples. I wanted her to pull. I wanted her to not only display her power over me, but to actually exert it herself.  

Instead, she finally ordered to stop. 

I was hoping that this was the moment that she would actually take over. And she even lifted her hand. But to my frustration, she only tugged a strain of her hair behind her ear and then rested it back in her lap. 

Amelia told me to move my hand down, and I obeyed, as it slid past my belly button between my legs.  

“Touch your clit!” 

I did and found it hard and erect like my nipple, however, it gave off a different sensation. Not a jolt, but it softly let a wave of warmth in my hips. Much more powerful. 

“Show me how you do it to yourself!” 

She had asked something very intimate. I had slept with other people. Mostly women. They had seen my body, they had touched it, they had taken it for their pleasure. But no one had ever asked me to show them how I pleasured myself.  

It truly was my own secret. A secret I was now asked to give up for her. Of course I did.  

I rubbed my index finger slowly over that sensitive nub, and it gave me the sensation I had felt countless times before. But now everything was more intense, more present, now that I was under her observation.  

She guided my fingers with her words, told me to gyrate my fingers around my clit, and then to slide it into my pussy.  

I wished it was her fingers, but I took what I could get, and what I got were her soft commands that didn’t leave me any choice.  

She sat there motionless, watching me, as I slid my fingers in and out of my pussy. My puffy lips and the slurping sounds of my creamy arousal between them giving away my excitement. Well, my heaving chest, my moans, my erect nipples and my fast heartbeat also bore witness.  

Amelia told me to lick my fingers, and I made sure to give her a spectacle. Slowly, shy and hesitant. I had tasted myself before, but only out of curiosity, not out of pleasure. I had sucked dicks and eaten pussy, but my own taste was never something that I had found pleasure in. 

That day, however, it was different.  

I slid my fingers into my mouth, sucked them clean. 

“Do it again!” 

I pushed my fingers into my pussy again, but when I pulled them out, she took my wrist and put my fingers into her mouth to suck them clean.  

All the while she looked at me, as if she gathered some sort of information from my taste that she wanted to double check.  

“Fuck it, I can’t take this anymore!”, she suddenly cursed and pulled me towards her. It was almost rough, but of course, I gave in.  

She put her mouth onto mine and kissed me passionately, I let it happen. I let her throw my body on the bed, let her climb on top of me, I let her tower me. I let her between my legs and I opened them when her fingers dove into them.  

She was horny. Her gentleness was gone, as if I had used up all her patience. 

Instead, she kissed me and one of her hands roamed all over my body, squeezed my tits, stroked my belly and more and more often found its way between my legs.  

Finally, she fingered me with a quick and harsh touch. Quicker and rougher than I was used to. But it turned me on so much.  

I begged her to be allowed to come, and to my disappointment, she gave it right away. I would have loved her to deny me, to edge me, to be at her mercy even longer.  

And so I fucking came.  

Loud and wet, like I hadn’t in a long time.  

I banished all the greyness from my body that had accumulated in that terrible pandemic year.  

I think Amelia held me all through my orgasm. When I looked her in the eyes, she asked: “Did you enjoy yourself?” 

We both laughed.  

There was no doubt whatsoever. 

I pushed my naked body into hers and we lay there for a while. My head buried in her chest while she stroked my hair. I had slid one of my hands inside her blouse and gently played with her breast, circled her nipple. 

At the same time, I enjoyed that warmth that still radiated all through my body.  

I loved to feel my naked body pressed against her clothes. She dropped a hand and casually stroked me between my legs. In a casual way. Like you would pet a cat. There was nothing explicitly sexual in those idle movements. But to me they indicated her dominance. That she could just touch me in my most private areas. That she was entitled to. And she didn’t even have to mean anything by it. As if my pussy was her… you know pussy cat. I loved it! 

“You know, when I first saw you, I got the impression that you might be a submissive,” she whispered. 

“How come?” 

“Just the way you moved at the airport. You were so meek and so polite, and a little timid. The way you moved.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes. I like to study people’s body language, you know.” 

“And you can tell someone’s sexual preferences from seeing them walk around in an airport?” 

“Well, you have to admit that I was right, right? 

“I guess.” 

“You know, when I sat behind you and the plane was waiting on the runway for takeoff, I fantasized about you. How I would do things to you.” 

“Things?” 

“How I would open my seat belt, walk to your row, sit next to you. I was picturing myself looking you in the eyes, and you’d be surprised. Then I would take your head in my hands and kiss you passionately as the turbines started to roar and we were pressed into our seats when the airplane picked up speed. You know to forget about my fear of flying. I just hate the takeoff. I can stand the rest but not the takeoff when everything is shaking and rattling and seems out of control.” 

“You like being in control.” 

“Who doesn’t?” 

“I mean, like… you know… like this.” I awkwardly wiggled my finger between the two of us. 

“Oh!” she laughed. “Like this? I’d say these are two different things. In a plane, I just don’t want to be blown up and roasted in hellfire to little bits of charcoal. I’d say that’s a fairly reasonable concern. And with you, I just want the feeling of being… in charge. Do you think that’s weird? Like… wrong?” 

I shook my head. “No, no. I guess it’s natural. You’re like this, I’m like that. You like being dominant, I like being submissive. No big deal. It’s, you know, natural.” 

“It’s just, sometimes I wonder whether I’m crazy or something. Insane, you know?” 

“Well, do you want to do sadistic things to me?” 

“No, no! Definitely not! I just get a rush when you do what I want. And I want you to enjoy this just as much as I do. I would never want to harm you!” 

“Well, there you go,” I said. 

I remembered that she had just had her coming out, and I wondered what she thought of it so far.  

We both kept quiet for a while. I enjoyed playing with her breasts. But then I whispered: 

“I want to return the favor. May I?” 

She nodded, but before I could do anything, she had gotten up out of bed and stood next to the window, the incoming light illuminating her body from behind. 

Amelia put her right hand on her hip and pushed it out, and with her finger, she motioned me to come closer. She looked seductive, but it seemed like she didn’t think so, because she couldn’t hold a straight face for long and so she burst into laughter.  

“I’m sorry!” she dropped her pose and apologized. “I am not made for this!” 

Actually, I thought that this was incredibly sexy, and I didn’t want her to laugh. I loved it so much when she was strong and in charge. 

I crawled to the foot of the bed on all fours and dropped down on the floor as elegantly as I could. 

I was still naked and left the warm linen behind me, exposing myself to her scrutinizing eyes.  

Amelia stood there, close to the window, biting her lip. Her legs spread a little, her hips pushed forward. Casually but also very seductively.  

I crawled to her feet and looked up to her. 

“You want a piece of me?” she said with a low voice and tried to keep a straight face. 

“Yes please, if I may!” 

“I like how you beg! You are well-behaved!” 

“Thank you, my mistress!”  

“Mistress? I like that! You haven’t done this for the first time, I can tell you are a naughty little floozy!” 

Unfortunately, this was my first time that a girl treated me like that. I had been with women who had hinted at some sort of powerplay, but I guess we had been too scared to actually act on it. However I felt that Amelia was different. She knew what she wanted, even if her determination was sometimes interrupted by the cutest outburst of emotion and laughter.  

But I could live with it. Everything else was just my imagination and I had spent enough time consuming porn on the internet to fill my weird desires. She was the first to satisfy that urge. 

I opened the button of her jeans and gently tried to pull them down.  

But what made them sexy on Amelia, the fact that they were tight, also made them hard to peel off. So she had to wiggle her hips to help me.  

“Oh man! This is bad! This is really bad!” she laughed. “I had planned this! In my head this worked out much hotter! So much hotter. It was definitely not that awkward.” 

I liked the fact that she had put some planning into this. Even if it hadn’t really paid off. The fact that she had actually spent some time during the day to think about what she would do to me or have me do. It meant that I meant something to her. Maybe this was obvious. I had thought of her as well. All day in fact. After all she was locked up in quarantine just as much as I was. 

Eventually I had peeled the jeans off her, and she stepped out of them.  

Her legs were as pale as the rest of her skin, but I felt her soft and smooth skin and wondered whether she had shaved her legs for me, as I had done that afternoon. Or maybe she always took care of her. I must admit that the lockdown had made me lazy in that regard.  

But of course I wanted to be pretty for her. 

“Open my shirt!” she commanded. 

I reached up to the knot that held her shirt together and slowly opened it.  

But much more fascinating than seeing a little bit more of her cleavage were her panties. They didn’t look particularly frilly or sexy, but they were puffed up around her mount. I couldn’t wait to see what was hidden under them. 

She casually brushed the shirt off her shoulder and it almost slid off on its own and fell on the ground like my dress before.  

She looked so gorgeous from my position below her.  

She stood there in her panties, but still she had that swagger. Control and dominance was oozing from her.  

She was so fucking hot with her boyish figure. 

I just wanted to be kneeling at her feet.  

“Do you like, what you see?” she asked as if she could read my mind. 

“Very much.” 

“Do you think, you deserve this?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know?”, she asked softly. 

“Only you can make the call whether I deserve this. And I will accept it.” 

“God, you are so fucking hot, right now! You really know, what you are doing!”  

I really wanted to please her, and there was nothing that I craved more than her approval. 

“Come closer!” 

I inched closer to her towering body. 

“Closer!” 

I was looking right at her panties. My nose inches away. I could smell her arousal through the fabric of her underwear. 

“Take them off. Slowly!” 

My hands slowly peeled her panties down her hips, and I was hypnotized as I unveiled a blonde, thick bush between her thighs. 

None of my prior girlfriends had left that area down there totally ungroomed. I could now smell her even better, and I had that urge to dig my face right into that abundance of female sexuality.  

It just looked so feminine and strong down there. So natural, and for a second I felt inferior to her as a woman. That I didn’t have the courage to be who I was as a woman. It didn’t make sense at all.  

“Kiss me. But make it gentle!” she commanded. 

I hesitated but then I stuck my nose right into her dense female meadow. I found her tiny nub and planted a kiss on it. I must admit the amount of her scent that was amplified by all the soft hair was a little overwhelming, maybe even a little intimidating. 

There was something different. I felt like for the first time I was really pleasuring a woman, a full-grown woman. Like some pagan female deity. I wanted to get lost in her womanhood, lose all sense of direction, like I was poisoned by her spell. 

It tickled my nose and it was very different. I had never been with a girl like that. Like I had to fight for it. For this forbidden fruit.  

Once again it struck me that this must be her first time. The first time female lips touched her pussy. The first time, a female tongue entered her, licked her lips. I pressed my lips against hers and tried to get as deep into her as I could.  

I felt the burden of my responsibility. I wanted to give her the best orgasm she ever had. Better than that of all the guys she’d been with.  

Now was the time to thank her for her gentle dominance, to reassure her that she did the right thing. I wanted to burn myself into her memory. Forever. I wanted her to remember the first time a girl made her come. I wanted her to remember me.  

I reached around her thighs, squeezed her ass and pulled her tighter. I was the submissive one, but I was also on a mission. She was making me so horny, so hot. I wanted to eat her out. I wanted to give her pleasure.  

When my tongue explored her wet pussy I paid close attention to the slightest of her reactions. Every move, every shiver, every small spasm of her muscles, every moan.  

I noticed when her knees became weak, I tried to support her, and when she stepped back to lean against the wall I didn’t let go of her, I followed her, my mouth almost glued to her pussy. I felt her hands on my head. They were conflicted. They seemed to push me away and pull me in at the same time. Whatever made her want to push me away, I did less of, whatever made her pull me in, I did more of.  

At one point, as I grabbed her butt cheeks, I touched her anus, and she jerked surprised and broke out into laughter.  

“Oh my god!” 

I knew I had struck gold. My finger slowly returned to that place that had given her such a jolt of joy. This time more gentle, not to startle her. 

“No, don’t, oh please, yes! Oh my god!” I was evil, as I enjoyed her conflicted reactions and didn’t stop. 

“What are you doing to me?” she asked loud into the room. I didn’t respond though. 

“Of my fucking god! What is happening?” She wasn’t talking to me.  

I felt her climax building up, as her moans became louder. Little earthquakes appeared to erupt in her womb. I tried harder, and it worked. Amelia had to shift, as her knees buckled again.  

I held her as tight as I could. I didn’t want to stop licking. I didn’t want to let her off the hook, although my tongue was getting tired, burning. 

And then her moans became louder, and when she came, she collapsed, tried to find her balance, grabbing my hair. She pushed me away, closed her legs and put her hand between her legs, as if she had to protect herself.  

I sat back and watched her. Her pale body responding to her orgasm. 

She slid down the wall still engulfed in her pleasure. 

At the same time I felt a different kind of pleasure. The pleasure of pleasing her. Servicing her, my newly found mistress.  

After all this time of being useless, after all those time wasted in the pandemic I had done something useful and beautiful. I had made this woman that had found me come.  

I felt like this was the beginning of something. 

“Holy!” she exhaled. “You are amazing!” 

“Thank you!”  

I reached to the bed, pulled the duvet off the bed, and wrapped our bodies in the blanket, snuggling up against her.  

Our bodies exchanged our evaporating heat, and I almost felt as if I could capture some of her warmth.  

My hand found its way between her legs and it rested in her thick bush. I played with the curls of her hair just as she had with my pussy before.  

The end