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“That’s it, baby.” Her thrusts are more relentless as she braces herself against my shoulder, simultaneously pushing me down onto her couch while letting me know she’s there and not going anywhere. Not now. Not soon. Certainly not until I’ve had my fill of her and she’s finished proving her point to me. The one that says You’re mine, Mathison. That includes your pussy. “Come for me, hm? Come for me and tell me who rules your soul.”

My words are choked in my throat. Yet I somehow manage to say, “You!”

Her breaths are likewise harried. Her voice is likewise peaking. “That’s right. Tonight, I’m your Domme, Ira. Now, fuck me as much as I fuck you.”

That’s right. I don’t have to be so passive. That wouldn’t be my submissive style.

As soon as I raise my hips to meet hers, I’m knocked into the crevasse of pleasure that I’ve only heard about on the lips of those certainly blessed by life.

What the hell is this sound I’m making? I’ve spent most of my post-pubescent life practicing my speech until my voice is deep enough to pass for masc in any situation. Not like I’m ashamed of my natural tone when laughing with friends or getting cozy with my girlfriend. But this? A girlish shriek of orgasmic tranquility as I hand over all of my pain, my anxieties to an experienced Domme that I love? The sky wept with God’s tears, because I, Ira Mathison, have just unleashed the unholiest sound to ever come from my liar of a throat.

I draw Kathleen into me. I urge her to touch my breasts. I yearn for her to come too, sounding as pleasantly fucked as I do. I want to feel every inch of my body as I’m both consumed and consuming. Never before have I felt so at peace with who I am in such a bare moment. Kathleen. She did this to me.

She sets me free, too.

Reality crashes back down, right along with Kathleen’s body as she collapses on top of me. Her hips are no longer moving. Her lips no longer kiss me. Instead, she buries her head between a pillow and my neck, stirring within me, impaling me to her couch.

Why the fuck is this so hot? And how do I get more of this, like, right now?

She kisses my words away, dipping her tongue into my mouth until I forget how to speak. Her fingers fork around my nipple. She doesn’t have to say a thing. I know what she’s thinking, and I agree. I am beautiful. I am legendary. I am hers.

“Did you enjoy that?” she whispers into my ear.

I nod. “That was intense.”

A heavy laugh echoes against the pillow. Finally, she pulls away from me, loosening the straps around her waist. She may choose to wield that thing differently, but she’s not a pro-packer like me. But I wouldn’t mind borrowing that for a hot minute. She could ride me. I’d happily be her living fucktoy like that.

“You are the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” she says.

Why the hell does that make me feel good? Since when do I like that kind of validation?

My hand lands on her leg. “I’m ready to go to bed.” I’m so exhausted. Exhausted enough to sleep for the next twelve hours straight.

“Of course, love. I was about to head there myself when you showed up.”

I force a smile through my tired muscles. “What were you going to do in bed?”

She rolls her eyes. “Sleep.” She helps me off the couch, touching me like the delicate doll she’s created. “Sorry that’s not exciting.”

Quite the contrary. Sleeping with Kathleen is the right level of excitement for me.

I go into the bathroom to clean up and take stock. Did that really happen? Was that what I was so apprehensive about? That wasn’t so bad. Then again, that wasn’t as heavy as I expected from another Domme… but Kathleen isn’t the kind of Domme that turns me off. No, if she was, then I wouldn’t be in this apartment trying to win her at all.

I wouldn’t be in love with her.

Kathleen’s in bed, hair down and wearing nothing but her T-shirt. I mean nothing. I get a kick out of seeing her push back the covers on the other side of the bed, flashing me her bare skin. Doesn’t take much to make me stir again, as exhausted as I am.

“So I’m staying the night?” I lean in the bedroom doorway. I’m still naked, but not shy for her of all women to see me bare. No prosthetics, no bindings. “I’m not banned from the queen’s intimate presence?”

“Of course not.” She pats the space beside her. “My darling needs aftercare.”

Me. I need aftercare. That’s… well, it’s not funny. It’s not a riot. It’s not really anything in my mind. “You sure about that? I don’t think my boundaries were pushed that hard.”

Her look tells me to watch it.

Oh, I’ll watch it. Because I want to get in bed next to her, to watch the lights go out and feel her wrap around me, our skin caressing, teasing, and lips pushing together over and over again as we navigate the currents beneath these bed covers.

“Anything else you need from me tonight?” I comb my fingers through her hair, enjoying her body leaning against mine in her big bed. Kathleen has a softer mattress than I do. Softer covers, too, although I win in the sheet department.