Equal Opportunities: Extract

035234070302.LZZZZZZZMary

It takes – what – a month before I feel normal with David. Up until then it’s almost like I’m in awe of him. That’s the exact word for how I feel. Awe. I worship him.

Seriously. He is my religion. Everything I’ve ever wanted. I look at him when he doesn’t realise, and my mouth goes dry. I just cannot believe he’s here. He’s with me. I spend whole days just smiling like a goon.

I don’t think he knows how extreme my feelings are, and it really is better, for so many reasons, that he doesn’t.

It does start to fade away eventually, that feeling that he is just too perfect. I don’t let his godlike status stop me from having sex with him. Oh, do I ever have sex with him. But maybe my feelings make me a little more, I don’t know what, maybe a little more aloof than I would normally be with him. But in a way, that works quite well. Makes it easy for me to play the icy dominatrix – which is pretty fun.

I’ve kind of moved into his place. Well, halfway. Put it like this. I spend more time at his place than Carrie’s, which might be a bit premature, but is such a relief.

Carrie knows all about David. Obviously there was the time he came round with the mysterious Larry. And then there was the conversation I had with her when I finally unearthed myself from David’s place, three days after our reunion at the party.

She cornered me in the kitchen – caring enough, I ought to note, to ask me where I’d been all this time. And I was on such a ridiculous high I told all.

And then she said, ‘So, this David, he was the guy that came around here. The one with the friend in the wheelchair?’

‘No. David is the one in the wheelchair.’ I said. I was modging together a rather half-arsed tuna sandwich as I spoke, so kind of distracted. In fact I was feeling like I hadn’t eaten properly for days and I was so desperate for protein I would have happily shovelled the tuna into my mouth straight from the tin. So I was preoccupied with the much needed sandwich and didn’t catch her slightly off beat expression, until I finally looked up and saw that she was staring at me, her mouth a little open.

Then she said, ‘And that’s who you’ve been with?’

‘Yes.’

‘All this time?’

‘Yes.’

‘That guy in the wheelchair?’

‘Yes.’

‘Having sex?’

‘Yes.’

‘All this time?’

‘Yes. Didn’t we already do that one?’

‘Yes.’ She laughed. And then she frowned again. ‘But is that okay? To have sex with him? Like that? Like for several days?’

‘Well, yes. I mean, I think so. I didn’t break him.’ I smirked. ‘He was like that when I found him.’

And that was so David talking. That was the kind of thing he would have said and then laughed and looked around hoping to find a shocked expression on a nearby face. Carrie did indeed have a shocked expression on her face, but I wasn’t nearly so comfortable with it in the cold light of the kitchen.

‘Sorry,’ I said, quickly, ‘just a joke.’

And with that one piece of uncomfortableness, Carrie disappeared back off to her bedroom.

And that was really the last time I saw her properly. To speak to.

Yeah. I feel a bit guilty about that. I have popped in, to pick up books and stuff, but managed to avoid anything more than nodding in the hall. I suppose she knows, has guessed, where I am now spending most of my time.

But I don’t really spend very much time thinking about Carrie and whether she wonders why I’m never home. I’m far too busy thinking about other things.

After a while I do manage to shake the notion that David isn’t a figment of my imagination – but my passion doesn’t dim one bit. I can’t see that ever happening. I honestly think I will never get tired of David. But if I do, well, after I’ve tied him to his chair and had his cock inside me, I feel I could exit this world with everything ticked off my personal Things to do Before You Die list.

But another week passes and I have to think of another little cruelty to inflict on him. Well I don’t, strictly speaking, have to do so. In fact, sometimes I wonder if I should hold back. Give him a break. But all I want to do is find new ways to torment him – he suffers so very beautifully. And something in the way he writhes tells me that slowing down is the last thing he wants me to do. No matter how much he might protest on occasion.

It’s wrong, sure, on one level, but it’s so right on every other level that that isn’t worth worrying about.

So tonight, when I tie him to the bed – which has become such a regular occurrence it is practically part of our nightly routine – I have yet another new twist waiting in the wings. I stroke his beautiful cock with my hand until he’s nearly there, then I stop and kiss him.

‘Uh,’ he gasps when I pull my mouth away, ‘what are you doing.’ He pulls at his wrist cuffs a bit, struggling prettily, but he knows he isn’t going to get anywhere.

After a little more teasing and kissing, I take him back to that same point, stroking his hot velvet cock and pulling my hand away just before his big moment. David cries out when I stop this time, ‘Mary!’

‘Shh,’ I say, putting a finger to his big soft lips. ‘Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. This way, when you do come, it will be amazing.’

David seems to relax a little bit then. He trusts me. He shouldn’t.

I spend a long time on his body, stroking his slender legs, sliding my hands underneath him to stroke his hidden arse, toying with his nipples. I caress every part of him, except one. The one part that is really trying to get my attention. David twists at the manacles making the leather creak with his desperation – I love that sound.

Eventually deciding that maybe David has suffered enough, I take hold of his cock again. He seems to melt the second my fist is tight around it. He’s liquid with need. Incoherent. I pump slowly and he’s desperate straight away, moaning and squirming.

And then, again, just before he’s going to come. I stop again.

David squirms again. ‘No,’ he says, sounding almost annoyed, edging anger. ‘Please. I can’t. Can’t wait.’

I press my mouth close to David’s ear. ‘Baby,’ I say, making my words sound like sweet nothings, ‘you’re not going to come now. In fact, oh, I’m so sorry, but you’re not going to come at all, not until this time tomorrow.’

David shakes his head. In fact, his whole body seems to shake. But I can tell he understands.

And I trust him. A few moments later, when I reach up and free his wrists he doesn’t even try and reach for his cock. Despite his desperation, he doesn’t even think to.

I kiss him and I smile.

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