Spontaneous Combustion

Chapter Three-2

I’ve never been awakened with my c**k in a woman’s mouth. Can’t wait. You’re making me hard again thinking about this. Just thinking about your warm tender lips wrapped around my c**k, sucking and licking my stiff hard-on. Since this is retribution, I’d keep it in your mouth and order you to keep sucking till I decide how I am going to take you. I know what I’d like to do – I’d hook the leash to the ring on your collar and order you to stand. Then I’d lead you outside and into the woods and find a log with very rough bark. I’d make you straddle it, then take a rope, wrap it around the log and tie your ankles down. I’d tie your wrists together, rope them off to the other side of the log. I’d push you hard against it, so the rough bark rubs against your c**t and n*****s. I’d use my belt, laying on several hard strokes just to warm your ass for me. Once you’re feeling the heat, I’d jump on your behind and thrust my hot c**k between your cheeks. I’d pound you hard, driving your c**t and n*****s into the scratchy log till I’m ready to explode. Pulling my meat from your ass, I’d order you to open your mouth, then insert my throbbing prick and make you close your lips around it and suck me dry. “Lick me clean, wench!” I’d unload in your mouth! Oh yeah, I’d love to c*m in your mouth. And when you backed off, I’d take a handful of hair and tell you you’d missed a spot. “Lick more, and don’t miss a drop of c*m. And don’t forget my balls!” Once I’m spent and satisfied, I’d take off my belt and leave a couple fat red marks on your pretty white behind. “Now, woman, think about what you did! I’ll be back when I’m ready to untie you.

Whew! Don’t know where that came from?

I can’t wait to hear about Paris. I know I didn’t see nearly half of it when I was there. Have a good time.”

Jeni replied:

“Oh my, I guess you did like my morning wake-up! Whew is right! I’d send another of my 100 items, but I’m at a loss. Don’t know how to top that scene. (And that was yours, not mine, Sir) I have to be up at six in the morning. Tomorrow is another full day. My mind’s a blur at the moment, but I’ll be thinking of you.

Hope your day has gone well, and you’re enjoying your dreams. Smile.

PS: Celia and I are thinking about finding some hot Paris nightclub. What do you think?”

“When it comes to the nightclub, I think you should do whatever strikes your fancy. You’re in Paris. Enjoy! Just be sure I hear all about it, and I mean everything. And be safe!

It’s cool and overcast, all in all not a nice day here. Thinking of France…This week a bunch WWII vets have gathered in Normandy to commemorate the invasion. I keep hearing about the unfriendly French people. They should be reminded that they still speak French and not German because of us. Enough of the venting.

Wasn’t “O” French or was she English? I think Europeans in general are more liberal than we are – about s*x anyway. Americans are backward in much of their thinking. Why do we need to hide who we really are? Speaking of nightclubs, I once saw a TV video of people entering a fetish ball in Vegas. The Dom steps out of the car holding a leash, on the other end is his sub wearing a gold collar and dressed to kill. The only kink was the collar and the leash, but that was enough. I always loved that picture. Let’s face it, we’re both kink freaks, and maybe that’s what makes this so compelling. Not sure how it works, let’s just enjoy it.

Thanks for the pictures. I’m impressed with your camera phone. Look forward to your emails. I keep wondering if those small keys are a pain to use. I’m a botanist not very hi-tech. I can handle not hearing from you, so don’t feel I’m demanding you write. When you get home will be a different story. Jack”

Jeni spent the morning within the cool tranquility of Monet’s water lilies, which was like the balm of heaven to her soul. She sat in the midst of his murals in the Musée de l’Orangerie, letting her brain rest and her mind quit the whirlwind of thought while furtively practicing a bit of mindful meditation. In the hushed quiet, her eyes relaxed, as did her body, although despite her efforts to let her s****l fervor take a backseat, there was an undercurrent of s****l arousal she could not tune out. The moment her mind wandered into s****l territory with erotic thoughts or Jack and Celia, her s****l body quickened again.

Several times that day she watched Celia ask friendly Parisians about their favorite nightclubs in the city. Jeni usually walked on beyond her during these exchanges, feeling uncomfortable with Celia’s boldness, even though it made her hot to think that they’d actually go ‘off the grid’ for an evening away from the tour. This was such fertile ground for her imagination.

What would she have to tell Jack when the night was over? Of course, he wanted to know everything – not much of a surprise there – a voyeur like every other red-blooded American male. In his mind he was exercising his rights as her Dom – if she were actually his sub. That matter was still up for dispute according to the rational part of her, even if in body and soul she felt thoroughly, totally, completely his sub. The idea of it had taken hold. He’d driven her there with his salacious emails filled with raunchy fantasies. None worse than her own nasty musings. But what if she didn’t want to tell him every little thing that she and Celia did? Would he know if she held back? Was it even possible to cheat on an on-line Dom? Their emails suggested a relationship far beyond the reality of their few weeks’ worth of emails, and a handful of phone calls. Was he assuming too much about their relationship? Was she? Being ordered to tell him everything about the anticipated night in Paris gave her a brief moment of pause. She wanted to resist. At the same time, it was another in a long line of provocative turn-ons Jack had ordered up. Because he could. Because she’d painted a Technicolor picture of her as a s****l submissive, and he knew she wouldn’t balk. She’d feel guilty. Forced to repent. She’d already demonstrated to him with the n****e ties that he had that kind of power over her. Fact was, she wanted him to Dom her, even when his orders sometimes made her want to shy away.

After polling a half dozen or so waiters and shopkeepers – all young stylish, Parisians – Celia had several clubs in mind for their night out, though she remained elusive about which one she wanted to try.

“If we have time we should visit a couple,” she said with a wink. “You have anything appropriate to wear?”

Appropriate? The question threw Jeni into a panic. She hadn’t thought about Paris nightclubs when she was packing for the trip. No. She didn’t have a thing.

“I doubt I do.”

“Okay then, we need to shop.”

Jeni was dead tired and wanted to rest, but she followed a motivated Celia down the street from the hotel, thankfully just a few blocks, to a small boutique where the prices weren’t too outrageous. Jeni’s mind swam as she looked from rack to rack for Paris appropriate nightclub attire. Then she spotted Celia holding up a tiny black dress. She nearly panicked. Looked like something straight from a kinky wet dream. Jack would certainly approve. But this was Celia. There was that lesbian vibe again.

“This is going to look sensational!” the redhead thrust it into her hands. “Try it on and let me see.”

A few minutes later, after wrangling in broken French with a clerk speaking broken English, and lots pinching, shifting and pulling on the snug black corset dress, Jeni emerged from the dressing room.

“Ah oui!” her attentive clerk exclaimed.

“Oh, that is perfect.” Celia stared at her with a bright smile.

Jeni looked in the mirror seeing the svelte shape of her body looking far more sexy than she remembered it – ever. The dress was like magic. Its shiny black satin was boned in the bodice, which lifted her breasts into a full cleavage. Below the skirt fit close to her body, though not too snugly to look sleazy.

“60 euro?” she winced at the cost, even though it was less than she expected.

“It’s worth it, sweetie,” Celia assured her. “You don’t even want to try on anything else. Trust me. Think of all the memories that will come home with it.”

She trusted Celia. She was much too discerning about fashion to dress her in something that wasn’t right. Gulping down her apprehensions, she did what she did so well and submitted to the woman’s advice. Celia was not her on-line Dom, though it seemed as if her friend’s inner Domme had emerged in this matter.

“You know, you’re right. The dress is perfect.” Jeni stared in wonder at her own lovely breasts. “It’s not too fetish, is it?”

“Fetish? Fetish is in, Jen, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

She almost laughed out loud. Of course, she’d noticed! How could she not have noticed that her private fetish had become mainstream over the last few years?

Celia’s eyes sparked wickedly. “Tomorrow we’re gonna dust off the dancing shoes and see what kind of mischief we can make.” Jeni loved the way she smiled now. “Speaking of dancing shoes. I think we’d better find a pair to match that dress.”

Jeni’s throbbing p***y took another flying leap forward in arousal. The night out, a Paris nightclub, dusting off the dancing shoes was real. No fantasy. Damn, she was hot! If she only had a chance to c*m. She could feel the s****l juices between her thighs. Wet, too wet! She needed the dress off now before her p***y juice left telling stains. As she moved back toward the dressing room, she thought of Jack’s last email.

The Dom steps out of the car holding a leash, on the other end is his sub wearing a gold collar and dressed to kill. The only kink was the collar and the leash, but that was enough. I always loved that pic.

That recollection threw her further into a kinky, horny, provocative head space. What if she had a gold collar, and he were there with a leash to lead her into the night? The urge to c*m was growing dire as the turn-ons kept piling on. She desperate needed to c*m. She carefully removed the dress and laid it on the stool. Glancing in the mirror at her naked body was all it took to have her prying apart her labia with one hand, and rubbing her swollen c**t with the other. A series of spasms immediately ignited into a furious frenzy of physical arousal – it had been days since she’d come. She had to catch herself to stay on her feet. For the next sixty seconds she leaned against the wall and rubbed herself, the c**t and the juicy hole – into which she stuffed three f*****g fingers. She would have used her whole hand if that had been possible. But three fingers and a lot of brisk thrumming were enough to have her gasping silently, her mouth open, her eyelids heavy with lust and her body spasming hard against her hand. More juices poured out over her fingers – she should have thought to bring paper towels. She licked her fingers dry instead, wondering what Jack would think of her now.

Still breathless and panting, she came back to the world heaving an enormous sigh.

“You okay in there?” she heard Celia speak.

“Yeah, I’m just fine. A little hard getting the dress undone,” she called out. “But I’m good.”

Once back in her clothes, she grabbed the dress and headed out to make the purchase before she chickened out. They left the boutique, heading down the street to find Jeni her dancing shoes.

She wrote to Jack:

“Hey I got on the net, finally! So good to hear from you. You’d be surprised how tiring museums can be, all that standing… but not to complain. There’s so much fascinating to see, so many famous paintings right here, close enough to touch, which I wouldn’t dare do. So many good things to eat. And this city is SO sexy. All of it. And the women!