This is part 2 to a series. Part 1 is Revival.

After spending an inordinate amount of time on my makeup, I’m mostly satisfied. How do you want me to appear? I want for you, to again be with the best-looking woman in the hotel.

Purple smoky eye, nude pink gloss, soft pink nails, freshly waxed pussy and wavy hair. I shimmy into a fitted, white dress and a pair of CL sandals. Slightly cooler weather calls for a trench.

In the rush, I forget something.

My Uber driver and I make idle small talk.

I don’t want to talk, I simply want to sit in my own daydream and recall Revival. Courtesy is crucial.

“Are you doing something fun in DC?”

“Seeing a friend.”

“Well, you look very nice. Must be a good friend?”

“Thank you and yes, a good friend.”

Smiling under my mask, heart racing from excitement, anticipation and nervousness.

Another gorgeous setting. I discover you in the middle of the circle bar. Disappointed you did not see me walk in. Timing is everything. But I see you — navy blazer, slacks, still tethered to your phone and presumably responsibilities.

I approach “Hi.”

“Sit down and relax.”

I order a drink and ramble about my day. Nerves. Scroll through a Teams chain — work never stops.

You brush my hair apart and notice the lack of earrings. How perceptive.

We chat for a bit and as usual you decide when it is time to go.

Luggage gathered; we take the elevator, standing on opposite sides. Smiling coyly at each other.

Once inside the room, I happily hand you my purse. Surrendering control.

“I was going to just ask you for your phone, but this is better.”

We kiss. My tongue finding yours. I press my breasts into you. Inhaling deeply. Your smell is neutral, no added scents. I’m already excited.

“You did not follow the one instruction I gave you.”

On my knees when we are first alone. I even confirmed this the day before. You are correct, I neglected my one instruction. I toss my head back and laugh.

Instead of complying, I kiss you again.

You do not stop me.

“I like what you’ve done with your lashes, nails and the way you smell.”

Do you notice that my eyes are a different color too?

Finally, I follow instruction.

Down on my knees, where I belong and reach for your pants.

You stop me.

“No. Hands behind your back.”

I comply and smile up at you. Looking forward to whatever may come next.

A firm slap lands across my right cheek.

“But I don’t think you forgot; I think you wanted to see what would happen if you didn’t follow.”

Partially true.

I wanted to kiss you. To gather our own anecdata. To press my body against yours.

Another slap lands on my left cheek.

I lose track the number of times you slap me.

It does not matter.

You enjoy hurting me and I enjoy it when you hurt me.

In this moment, I trust you and give you something only I can. My special magic.

“I have a present for you.”

Why? Today is not a holiday, my birthday, or any other commemorative occasion.

Today is simply Monday.

You hand me a small envelope.

“It has a (drawn on) safety pin.” (To keep it closed)

I open the envelope and discover a card with a Goldfish.

Written inside –

“Y

Revival.

Celebrating you and the moment.

D”

Thoughtful of you to write this card. I enjoy giving and receiving handwritten things, which these days is mostly a lost art.

Now we can move on.

You hand me a standard size envelope.

“This is a big gift. Just say thank you or thank Daddy.”

I’m content to put it apart and pull out your cock, but you open just the edge and show me.

I don’t know the exact contents but whatever it is — too much.

Even though you told me not to, I instinctively reply – (So disobedient today)

“It’s too much.”

“It is not. Your birthday is October? This is for your surgery, likely not the whole amount, clothes/lingerie afterwards.”

I’m surprised you remember what month my birthday is.

“Thank you.”

“I value politeness.”

I do too.

With that out of the way you allow me to undo your belt, buttons, zipper and pull out your cock.

Is this the best present of all? You allowing me to make you happy.

No underwear again – do I look surprised this time?

I take you in my mouth, eagerly, hungrily. There is so much for me to suck and play with. I look up at you while using both my hands and my mouth to pleasure you. Hoping you know I love this particular moment – the beginning.

While I appreciate the gesture, I toss apart the pillow you put down so I can spread my legs for better access to you.

You open the closet door, discover mirrors on each side and reposition me.

“This is what I want to see.”

I’m so entranced with your cock in my mouth and in my hands, I forget to look.

“There are four of you.”

Some would argue that is too many of me.

“Take off my pants – cuffs first.”

I remove your shoes first. Something I learned from last time. Followed by your pants. Not perfect but you’re all the time eager to go slow with me. You hand me a hanger and I place your pants on them. In addition, I store away your shoes. You readjust my hanging.

“Putting my shoes away was a nice touch, but you drooled on my pants and didn’t do a great job hanging them up.”

There is a wet patch on your pants. Oops. Another trip to the dry cleaners could be on your to-do list. As for the shoddy hanging job – some factors of domestic life escape me.

“Crawl.”

Not before you lift up my dress.

I crawl, slowly, over to the edge of the room. Doing my best to show off my ass. Hoping you do not notice what I forgot.

You join me and sit down on the couch. I kneel before you and take you again in my mouth. Your entire length in my mouth, your cock head ramming the back of my throat. I fight the urge to pull back and gag. You hold my head steady.

“Good girl, you can do it.”

I surface for air.

“Take off my shirt.”

More buttons. Long nails and buttons do not mix well. I persevere and succeed.

You are completely naked, and I am completely dressed.

“Stand up.”

With one zipper pull, my dress falls away. For today, I purposely selected a garment that requires little effort to remove.

“High fashion” You muse.

This is the first time I have worn this dress, these heels. I wanted to curate a special look for you. Do you like it?

We return to the couch. You sit, I stand in front of you. Your hands touching my body.

“You have a beautiful body, but I am looking forward to seeing the new you.”

The same words you used before my first surgery.

“Me too” I reply softly.

“A very you decision to make.”

As usual, you are correct and this is a loaded statement.

1) Once I decide to do something, I will accomplish my goal by any means necessary.

2) One of my long-standing fantasies is to titty fuck. Us, in this exact same position but with your shaft between my lubed breasts and cock head in my mouth.

I pull out my forgotten earrings.

“I wondered where your earrings were. I like earrings, especially the dangly ones. Top or bottom hole?”

Are we still talking about earrings?

You carefully insert the posts into my holes.

“It’s not going through.”

“Just push harder.”

Something comical yet intimate about this exchange.

As you continue to undress me, my body responds to your every touch. Your hands are warm, firm and steady.

You clamp my nipples with what appear to be laundry clips. They apply gentle pressure but are not painful.

“Nipple piercings would be sexy on you, clit hood too.”

My nipples were pierced — with barbells. Unfortunately, you never experienced them in person. The piercings did not fit in with a vanilla existence. Occasionally, I wish they were still a part of me but they are now merely a distant memory. (I don’t even have a photo.) A clit hood piercing – what would that feel like? In a different life, I would pierce both, for you, if that is what you wanted.

You ask if I have any toys to show you.

I sashay over to my suitcase.

“I don’t think I told you to walk.”

You also did not tell me not to walk.

“I have a confession. I did not wear a plug.”

Briefly considered inserting it in the Uber but decided against it.

“That is a good confession to make.”

“And I forgot my biggest plug.”

“Two things not followed.”

I show you a black latex dress.

“I’ll take you to dinner in that but right now, I don’t want any clothes on you.”

I show you my harness.

“Red – your favorite color.”

While I attach my collar, you are on your phone. Answering emails? A bit unfair since I gave you my entire handbag. That is life at times.

I put on my harness (mostly) and return to you, handing you my medium plug and lube. You fasten the last strap.

The unmistakable notes of Bach’s Sonata No.1 in G minor punctuate the air. Transporting me back to the first time we played.

You remove my panties and bend me over the desk.

I spread my legs. Ass especially arched due to my heels.

Lube slides down my asshole. Followed by the gentle pressure of your fingers. You insert my plug, swiftly and deliberately. I let out a small whimper. I am somewhat accustomed to this size. Practice pays off.

You spank me, once, twice. Again, and again.

My upper body and left cheek are pressed against the smooth, cold marble of the desk. A stark contrast to the hot, stinging pain spreading across my ass. The temperature gradient is confusing and exhilarating. My nipples are now sore from the clamps being pushed down. I bite down on my lip and moan softly.

Sensing I want to see myself in this position, you push apart the items on the desk and clear a sightline to the mirror for me.

“I want to make your ass red. But right now, it is only pink.”

You stand me up and turn me.

“Can you see yourself?”

I nod yes.

You are right, only pink.

I bend over again so you can keep hurting me.

I want you to spank me until you are satisfied with your work. We may need something firmer than your hand.

You tie my hair back with a (light) red hair tie – a nice touch intentional or unintentional.

“You look great with a ponytail.”

I don’t particularly like wearing my hair away from my face.

Laying me down on the edge of the bed, you attach a pair of red cuffs on my wrists.

Harnessed, collared, plugged and cuffed.

“Let’s see how your baby collar handles a leash.”

Harnessed, collared, plugged, cuffed, and leashed.

I smile.

You bring a different gag than last time. No o-ring, solid in the middle.

“We will try this one but if it’s too much for you we can switch.”

I’m determined not to switch. Even if I wanted to, how would I let you know.

You attach it loosely for my sake. Thank you.

Harnessed, collared, plugged, cuffed, leashed and gagged.

You play with my nipple clamps. This hurts. More than spanking. Simultaneously, it feels incredible as evidenced by my increasingly wet pussy. I let out small yelps.

My nipples are one of the most sensitive parts of the body. I love when they are pulled, kissed and sucked. Do you know where the others parts are?

Two pieces of gear I haven’t seen before emerge from your toy bag. I don’t have quite a toy bag (yet) but I do now have a toy box.

You velcro them to my thighs and attach my cuffs.

“This is to help you keep your legs open, which you had trouble with last time.”

Did I?

“In vanilla NJ, you may be part of a Garden Club, a Bridge Club but not a BDSM club.”

Humor is crucial. Bridge? Me? Inconceivable.

Using this new system I spread open my legs, showing you how wet you’ve made me.

You taste me.

“You have the best tasting pussy.”

I’m caught off guard by the use of my name during this scenario and the compliment.

The tone of your voices lets me know how excited you are.

I would say thank you, but I am gagged.

Politeness is crucial.

The leg restraints keep my legs spread open for you.

You suck my clit, flicking with your tongue.

Feels, so fucking good. I want to grab something to steady myself but I can’t.

You insert a vibrating dildo into my waiting pussy.

The dildo, coupled with the pressure from my plug and your tongue- are new sensations for me. Are you pressing against the end of my plug?

Screaming in silence, my body shakes involuntarily. Lost in my own climax.

Is this why I wear a gag? To prevent noise complaints.

You move the dildo in and out of my pussy. Preparing me for what comes next. You take off my leash. While moving up to my neck, you brush roughly against my nipple – this hurts, a lot.

Your cock is inside me, filling me completely.

“I just want feel you Baby Girl.”

All your words are sexy, but these particular ones are even more so.

You move in and out of me gently, brushing my hair apart, whispering in my ear:

“You don’t need to think or worry about anything. Everything is taken care of. No work, no dresses, no responsibilities.”

You fuck me harder now. Urgently. Your cock stretching my pussy. Feeling the metal of my plug against your cock, through my pussy.

I arch my hips to meet your each and every thrust.

“Didn’t wear your toy, didn’t bring your biggest plug, didn’t wear your earrings. You really fucked up today. Amazing you didn’t forget to bring yourself here.”

I would apologize but all I can do is bite down on my gag.

You are close.

I don’t want this to end. I want to move back to the couch, climb on top and ride you while you play with my clamped nipples, causing delightful pain, pulling me by my harness. To feel you in a different way.

The intricacies of play are two-way, but they are not equal.

You cum inside of me.

I savor the last twitches of your cock.

You remove my gag, leg restraints, cuffs, harness and clamps. Putting them apart along with my plug which fell out. Completely naked, minus my shoes.

The music changes to something softer – Chopin? Debussy? I can not place it.

You pull me in close and I lay with my head on your chest. Nothing to do in this moment but be in this moment.

“You will be able to take me in your ass. Because you want to. And I want you to.”

Don’t tease me. I am excited thinking about what that moment will be like. I fantasize about it in my alone time. Or while wearing my plug during ordinary vanilla life activities.

The fear, anticipation and care resulting with your exceptionally large cock inside my ass. Filling me in a way I have never experienced.

I am excited thinking about what it will feel like for you too, a tight asshole for you to explore, to make you happy.

Time passes and you look at your watch, once, twice.

“If we get up now, you can still make the 7:00 pm Acela.”

“I’m ok.”

You stand up.

“Too tempting to keep laying down.”

I reach for you and kiss you. Ever so gently. Feeling the heat and energy between us.

You look good. Swimming molded your body.

I stroke your cock and you stir again. I’m delighted to have this effect on you.

A gentle push on my shoulders and I kneel. Your turn to lay down.

I could not let you leave without pleasuring you this way.

My mouth reaches the place between the base of your cock and your asshole. I take my time, using my entire tongue to stimulate you and a finger and massage you. Carefully, due to the length of my nails.

My hands never leave your shaft. Still stroking, I suck on your asshole, pulling you open with my hands and applying pressure with my tongue. You alternate between looking down at me and closing your eyes with pleasure. I am so happy that you’re happy.

“I’m not hard anymore but when you rim me, the sensations feel incredible.”

“As long as you enjoyed it” I smirk.

Play, sex, submission, dominance does not all the time end in orgasms. The ritual and process bring ecstasy along the way.

Definitely not making the 7:00pm Acela now.

“One day, when you have no home responsibilities and I have no home responsibilities we’ll stay here.”

A fun idea.

We would explore, converse, and play without constraints and deadlines.

I could suck you until my jaw hurt and you could turn my ass from Rosé to Merlot.

We both dress to continue the day. The panties you removed earlier are completely soaked and I need to change. Is this why you wear no underwear?

“Thanks for suggesting drinks. Your pussy is really the only drink I wanted.”

I blush.

One last kiss and I divulge to you next time I’d like to be on top.

“That can be discussed.”

One Uber ride, Amtrak ride and car ride later I’m home.

I take out my card and re-read it. Lovely.

I take out my gift. Unexpected.

Unsual provenance for our friendship – carries certain terms. Terms we never discussed.

Spending time with you and learning from you was enough.

Is enough.

Fast forward to present day.

In our time together, my only expectation is to make you happy.

Provide a caesura //.

Let you do to me what you desire, hopefully often on my knees.

You all the time making the time to see me, is a gift itself.

Life is better when you choose to be happy.

Life is best when others are happy because of you.

My heart is full.

Friendship, intimacy, trust.

Gratitude.