Sweetest Mistress (Fem Dom 1)

“I know a great place with a New York Strip.”

“Pick me up at seven.” She hung up.

That night, the classy atmosphere and gourmet food proved the perfect antidote to my callous treatment. She was kind and sweet and sexy, as always, though there was a new carefulness to her words. As if she needed to protect herself from me, guard her thoughts, and I only had myself to blame. I was determined not to give her a reason to doubt me again.

After dinner, I was perfectly content to let the night end with a kiss. Well, perfectly content was an overstatement, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Do you want to sleep over?” she whispered.

Yes, I did.

We met in a kiss as soon as the front door closed behind us. Then wound our way through the living room, down the hall, and into the bedroom, shedding clothes and the invisible armor of earlier under onslaught of arousal.

She sat on the bed as I shucked my final piece of clothing, my underwear. As I turned back to her, she sucked my cock into her mouth. I rocked urgently into the warmth, but I couldn’t sustain it. I needed to really thrust, to fuck, so I pulled away and we climbed onto the bed.

I spread her legs apart and dipped my tongue into her folds. So wet for me. I couldn’t wait. Pulling myself flush against her body, my cock slid against her pussy. She reached down and angled my cock into her, giving me a few emboldening strokes with slender fingers before I pushed inside.

Fully sheathed, I gasped, “Shit, condom.”

“On the pill and clean,” she breathed. “Unless…”

“No,” I gasped. “We’re good.”

And then I was moving, thrusting into her while her hips thrust right back. I kissed her – her lips, her neck, her breasts. Her fingernails scored my back, probably leaving marks. I told her how sexy she was and she moaned. There weren’t any power games this time around. It was pure unadulterated sex.

* * *

I woke up to the smell of bacon. Probably the very best way to be woken up was with sex, but bacon was a close second, and I wasn’t complaining about this, no way. I used the bathroom and dressed in my work clothes from the night before.

I felt great. Sated from sex, relaxed from sleep, and happy about my relationship with Melissa. It had never been this easy before. Things had just slid into place between us, but I was done questioning it.

In the kitchen, Melissa flipped a pancake. A pile of bacon sat on a plate next to her, and I picked up a piece as I gave her a kiss on the cheek. She greeted me with a shy smile, wearing a robe and sleep-tousled hair.

“Want some?” she asked.

“Absolutely. Here, let me start the coffee.”

I puttered around her tiny kitchen, finding the cream and sugar as the coffee brewed. Pouring us each a mug, I met her at the table. It had been an age since I’d had a real breakfast. Stale coffee or McDonald’s didn’t count.

She slid a plate of pancakes to me.

I stared in wonder at the stack of pancakes with sliced bananas on top. It was hardly a common thing. “How did you know I like bananas on my pancakes?”

Red flushed her cheeks. “Just a lucky guess,” she mumbled.

It was incredible, like a sign, in case I’d missed all the other ones showing me how perfect we were for each other. Giddy, I dug in.

“What time do you have to head in?” I asked.

“In about an hour. I usually run around now and head in to the office at eight.”

“Sorry to keep you from your run,” I said, though I was sure my grin told the truth. I wasn’t sorry. This was how every morning should start.

She laughed a soft sound. “Last night was a workout of its own.”

I studied her, the crown of her bent head, her thick lashes, as if I could find the answers. “Are you really okay with the stuff we do?”

“Yeah.” She looked up, cocking her head to the side in a way that reminded me of last night when she’d looked at my dick. “If you like it, I like it.”