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Introduction:

The Making of a Domme 3
Late Arrival

Prologue

Lousy, lousy timing......... I wish we had met weeks before, but now work calls me. I have not dared to tell Cija of all the time I will be spending away, and very soon. Any other time I would give my all to this relationship, but now she will have to be content with whatever I can spare. She is getting under my skin and with this new promotion I can’t afford it, not for a while at least. I get out of the taxi in the snow, pulling
my collar up against the chill wind, and battle my way inside.


Again he is late returning from his business trip, and I have undergone a gamut of emotions – my messages to him have been in turn fond, pleading, angry and contrite. His brief and infrequent answers keep me on the edge of hope, and late at night I find myself out on the streets, walking in the cold wind, not able to sit quietly at home and wait. More than once he has given me a time for his return, only to change it, and yet another deadline has come and gone. My feet have brought me to his block of flats – I have only been here the once, but it feels familiar, and I cannot turn away from it. The wind blows colder, a few flakes of snow beginning to fall, and I find myself inside the lobby where it is warm. A couple stumble in from outside, close together, the girl giggling and pulling her partner along the corridor as he fumbles with a set of keys. I am standing by the lift and the doors open – an older man steps out, and presuming I am waiting, puts his hand against the doors to prevent them from closing, smiling and gesturing me inside.

What else can I do but smile my thanks and step inside, deciding that I will go to the top of the block and see the view, and then I can return home. Thankfully no one else gets in, but fate takes another hand and the lift stops on his floor to let a well dressed woman enter. I cannot resist getting out, and decide to walk to the end of the corridor past his door before returning and leaving the building. My fingers trace across his door as I pass, and I think of his fingers also on the door a week or so ago, locking up as you left. He has not yet given me a key, and I feel that I would not like to be in there alone anyway, surrounded by his things but not his presence. At the end of the corridor is a picture window, and I linger a while, looking out over the snow starting to settle on the quiet streets. I am not sure how long I stay like this, but am brought out of my reverie by the ‘ding’ sound of the lift arriving – I decide reluctantly to turn and take it back down to the lobby – I cannot explain my presence.

"Cija!" – I start at the sound of his voice as he steps out of the lift, bags in hand, wearing a suit and overcoat. Flakes of snow still cling to his clothes and sharply cut black hair but they are rapidly melting. My face breaks into a smile but I also feel tears prick my eyes, I walk unsteadily towards him and my throat closes around his name. He also is smiling, and he is wrestling his bags to his door, feeling in his pocket for keys, looking flustered. He gives up the search, putting his bags down, and I am in his arms; we are embracing fiercely. He swings me round, laughing

"How did you know, baby?" he asks, but I am squeezing my eyes to blink the tears away.
"Let me look at you" he says, putting me down and holding me at arm’s length, and his expression changes as you see my wet cheeks. "Hey, hey.... don’t cry, silly" he says with concern, and pulls me to him again "I’m so sorry I couldn’t get away" I am trying to stay in control, but sobs start to escape my lips as he hugs me close again, making soothing noises. "It’s OK baby, I’m here now" he croons, and pulls me closer to the door, again fumbling for his keys. Somehow he manages to open the door without letting me go, and he brings me inside, bidding me to wait while he gets his bags, closing the door again and turning back to me. I am sniffing pitifully, rummaging in my pockets for a tissue, mopping at my eyes and nose, feeling very silly indeed.

"This isn’t quite how I wanted to greet you" I laugh, but he does not, shrugging out of his overcoat and stepping over to me, his hands going to my shoulders and he looks me in the eye.
"I missed you so much" he says, taking a deep shuddering breath, and I guess he too is feeling strong emotion. Then his lips are on mine, not softly but hard, and he presses me against the wall. It seems now is not the time for gentleness, and we are pulling at each others’ clothes, greedy for bare flesh. Soon his jacket and tie are on the floor, his shirt buttons undone and my hands on his chest. My coat is also on the floor, he has pulled the bottom of my blouse out from my skirt waistband and he is wrestling with the catch of my bra. He is successful and roughly pushes my bra up to cup my breasts – I gasp at the pressure and coldness of his hands and dig my fingers into his buttocks. I push him back and step out of my shoes, and he follows suit. I bend to peel off my leggings and kick them to the side – he pulls me up straight, but it is I who press him to the wall this time, my hands roughly running through his still damp hair, lips fused together again. His hands go to my bottom, pulling my short skirt up to my waist and sliding down under my panties, pulling them down as far as he can without bending, then using his foot to get them to the floor where I can step out of them.

"Hold on to me" he commands, and obediently I put my arms around his neck. He picks me up and carries me over to the breakfast bar, sitting me down on one of the stools – I gasp at the coldness of the leather. He is unbuckling his belt, and I take my hands from his neck to settle myself better on the stool and watch admiringly as he kicks his shoes off, unzips and steps out of his trousers and boxer shorts, revealing his hard cock. It is too cold to take my blouse and bra off so I leave them, as he also keeps his shirt on - then he is on me again, his mouth cruelly hard on my lips. He takes my hands and puts them around his neck again, his hand straying unerringly between my legs to feel for my readiness. I gasp at the coldness of his fingers on my hot flesh, and I feel the slickness there. Seemingly satisfied at what he finds, he pulls me forwards so that I am sitting on the very edge of the stool.

I am trembling with desire – he pauses for a moment, asking if I am alright, if he is being too rough, and I tell him I am fine. He leans down a little to pull my knees up, and we manoeuvre together to bring the tip of his cock to my pussy. It is a little tricky working like this, but somehow we end up where we desire, and he quicklys work the full length of his hot cock inside me. My legs are wrapped around his waist and my arms around his neck, my head on his shoulder. I am no longer resting on the stool, but it is there for support should we need it. Now I can do little but hold on as he starts to move inside me, his urgency now obvious, and I am sure he will climax long before me. I do not care, it is enough to be together, and trust that he will attend to my needs as well soon. He moves fast and hard and is soon shuddering and groaning with his climax. I feel the warmth of his cum inside me and flowing out – it has been a long time and I am satisfied that he has been faithful to me. Breathing hard, he lets me back down onto the cold stool.

"I’m sorry baby, I couldn’t hold back, you make me so hot" he pants. "but it’s frigging freezing in here", he laughs. "Quick, run up to bed and I’ll make it up to you".

"You couldn’t stop to put the heating on?" I query cheekily, as my skin is indeed turning to goose pimples, and he slaps my bottom, chasing me up the stairs. We stop by the bed to hurriedly take the remainder of our clothes off and slip under the covers together – he does pause a moment to switch the electric blanket on and we embrace, play and stroke each other until we are warmer.

"Hold on it’s still cold" he says, and climbs out of bed "Don’t go anywhere", and he vanishes down the stairs, moving quickly but pulling on a silky red dressing gown first. I luxuriate in the warmth of the bed and hear clicking noises coming from downstairs, the sound of the heating boiler kicking in, his step on the stair again, hurrying back. He stops to rummage in a drawer by the bed "Feel like doing something different babe?" he asks, holding out some silky red ribbons, and I raise my eyebrows.

"OK" I say, but he hears the uncertain note in my voice

"You don’t’ have to, but I think you’ll enjoy it – we can stop anytime you like....." he says hopefully. I nod my assent, and he steps over to the bed, kneeling and tying one of the ribbons around my wrist, showing me how I can pull it to get free, and taking the other end and securing it to the bed post. Already I feel that I am going to enjoy it, the feel of the ribbon sending shivers through me. He moves to the other side of the bed, securing my other wrist and asking if it is too tight, if I am comfortable, and I assure him that I am. He whispers the safe word to me so that I can stop him whenever I wish. He steps back and admires his handiwork, slipping off his dressing gown and climbing onto the bed and under the covers. He straddles me with his knees either side of mine, sitting back on his heels. I feel exposed but curious, and he leans and stretches to kiss my wrist, working slowly down my arm and skirting around my breast, the touch of his lips light, his breath warm on my skin.

Briefly he flicks his tongue over my nipple and blows gently, the coldness making it pucker and harden more, and I moan. He strokes down my other arm with his fingertips, again ending at my breast, this time teasing with his fingers, and I roll my hips to press up against him, already impatient for him to touch me there.
He tuts and pushes me down, telling me I will have to wait. Leisurely, he walks to the bedside table again, and produces more ribbons. He spends some time fastening them around my ankles and tying them to the foot of the bed, and now I am secure, although not immobile. Now he works slowly down my body with mouth and fingers, so slow it drives me mad with desire. When he gets to my thighs, he avoids the insides, instead stroking right down the outsides of my legs to my feet. He caresses the soles of my feet and sucks each of my toes before working up the insides again, paying particular attention to the backs of my knees. Every time I express impatience, he slows his progress or stops altogether, and I attempt to keep as still as I can in the hope that he will get to the parts I desperately want him to pay attention to. My groin is on fire, wanting his touch, and I beg him to hurry, but I do not utter the safe word.

I long to break free from my restraints and pull him to my aching hot wet pussy, but the anticipation of his touch is far more exciting. At long last his lips and tongue start to play there, and I moan with satisfaction. It is difficult to tell exactly what he is doing, but I am sure he has also slipped a finger or two inside me. The feeling of the ribbons holding me securely is strangely arousing, and I pull against them, luxuriating in the sensation. Occasionally he flicks his tongue over my clitoris, sending my whole body into shudders of ecstasy, but always he keeps me on the edge until I am exhausted and weak. Now I am truly still, giving myself up to his control, the only movement I make is in response to the flick of his tongue. I feel myself start to climb towards orgasm – my whole body arches and tightens against my restraints, it is unstoppable and the first wave makes me cry out loud, then wave after wave of delicious ecstasy washes over me. Quickly he unties me and we lie close to each other under the duvet - I can barely move, I am so sated, and whisper my thanks.

We are not finished, however, and it is not long before he guides my hand to his groin, and I caress and stroke his erection – he grows larger and harder under my fingers.
"Baby, I can hardly move" I protest, but he assures me that is not a problem. The room is warmer now, or perhaps it is we who are warm, even hot, and he throws back the covers. He pulls me to the edge of the bed so that I am kneeling on the floor, lying face down on the mattress, and his hands go to my hips, positioning me just so and he admires the view of my private parts. He again touches my pussy and briefly my clitoris, but it feels tender and I protest. His fingers spread my wetness upwards toward my anus, and I gasp as he starts to insert his finger, unerringly finding a spot that is surprisingly pleasurable – this is something that I have not tried before, but I am willing to experience it. He brings his cock up to my hot wet pussy and starts to push himself inside me, I am relaxed and it is not difficult for him to bury his whole length in me.

He starts to move slowly, his finger also moving and exploring my ass, making me gasp with surprise and appreciation. He begins to pick up the pace, moving faster and deeper, slamming into me, the bed shaking. I feel the slap of his balls against my thighs and I am not surprised to find myself climaxing again, crying out only seconds before he also shudders and trembles with the final strokes of his orgasm. Our juices combine and trickle down my thighs. Now we are both exhausted, and he lies on me for a few moments, his weight pressing me into the mattress until I protest. We manage to untangle ourselves and weakly climb back into the bed, pulling the duvet over us. We collapse into each other’s arms and I finally surrender to sleep.

I lie awake and stare at the ceiling, Cija’s warm body nestled into mine. Her tears shook me, how am I going to tell her that I will be away for months at a time? I want to stay here, safe in our own little world, forget about everything else. But time ticks away and soon she will have to know. What will she say – will she cry again, shout, scream, storm out of the apartment? She was so quiet when we met but she is becoming more confident, more sure of herself. Is that because of me; how will she behave when I am gone? Cija expects - no, deserves, my whole attention, and I can’t give it right now. I can’t ask her to go with me, she has her own life here and I will be back and forth indefinitely.
5 comments

ChagrinReport

2010-07-26 22:30:11
Even more amazing than the first two. I could imagine it better than the previous ones, which is of course a plus :) With each story, you are becoming a better and better writer. I found the very end the most stimulating, and I love how it's both romantic and erotic at once. Fantastic!

MrForsReport

2010-06-20 17:45:08
Beautiful as always Cija. An old favorite of mine from the forum, and it is great to see it brought forwards with the rest of the saga x

cijababeReport

2010-06-18 02:17:37
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Apologies for the typo in the title - and for not telling folks to read my previous two so that it makes more sense. Thanks to all for your kind comments on this and the others.

TOACHEZReport

2010-06-17 23:30:58
well written . good combination of timely plot development leading to the sexual content . the ending allows further action to develop as a continuation to this story .

CybrgigoloReport

2010-06-17 23:21:33
Nice story Cija! ;)

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