Page 43 of Memoir of a Heaux
He let the chair up and then slowly unstrapped my arms and legs. He helped me from the seat and then held my body against his. The way he kissed me felt so personal. I savored the taste on his lips, even licked a little at his chin.
“I’m glad your body cooperated, pretty. You get a long break.” He winked.
“What?” I asked, confused.
“The minutes on the clock. They’re there to determine how long a break you get before I claim your body. The harder you make me work, the less time you have to recuperate. You have 67 minutes to rest now. There’s a fridge built into the console over there. There are food and drinks inside if you want them. Also, feel free to go to sleep. I’ll see you in an hour.”
He turned and left me too stunned to speak. This man had me in a simulation, controlling every aspect of it. It was a crazy game, but I wanted to see it through to the end.
I went to the console, got a mini bottle of water, and ate a couple of the kiwis he had in a bowl. Then I went to bed, took off my heels, and decided to take a nap. There was a solid hour left on the clock, and I knew it would take next to nothing for me to fall asleep. I was tired and worn, and he hadn’t even fucked me yet.
I felt like I had barely closed my eyes when I heard the door opening. I sleep like a spy, so as soon as I heard it, I rolled toward the entrance of the room.
He looked at me as I lay sprawled out across the bed.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he rubbed my bare ass.
“Did you sleep well?” He asked.
“Yes. I need to shower really quickly.” I could feel the stickiness still between my legs, and despite him running the show, I needed to freshen up a bit.
He nodded.
“Go ahead, get cleaned up for me.”
I went into the bathroom and showered quickly. He had the same soap in here that he had on my list of essentials; it made me laugh. I took a quick shower, nowhere near the length of time that I normally spent inside.
When I made it back to the room, the cool air fighting against the warmth of my skin made my nipples harden immediately.
He stood and met me halfway.
This time, our interaction was far less controlled or formal. He grabbed me, squeezing two generous handfuls of my ass and then moaning. Our tongues wrestled; I cupped the back of his head as we kissed. The way he touched me like I was fragile was a complete contrast to the dominance of his voice.
He pulled back from me, composed himself, and then he spoke.
“Lie on the bed, pretty.”
I went over to bed and then lay in the center of it. I watched him anxiously as he slowly made it to the side and stood there.
“Tell me the first rule that you agreed to when you signed the contract.”
This wasn’t a time for a pop quiz. But still, I took a second to search my memory before I finally settled on the first thing that I believe I signed.
“I don’t assume. I wait for instruction.”
“Good. And if you get uncomfortable?”
“I have to say it.”
He nodded, and he finally removed his pants and underwear. I looked down at his dick and then back up at him. There was no way that what he was carrying was legal.
“Taco.”
I tried my best to hold the laugh that escaped me. Not only was I not a generally serious person, but that is what happened when I got nervous. And at that moment, I was a ball of nerves. That was unfamiliar territory.
He didn’t share my amusement this time. Instead, he spun and went back over to the chest to retrieve a paddle. Then he faced me again.
“Pretty, are you uncomfortable?”
