show him what she wanted. She had enjoyed the sex, but would have preferred not to be in charge.
“I want you to do something for me,” Bryce said a few minutes later. “Go into the ladies’ room and take off your bra. I want to dance with you and feel your unrestrained breasts against my chest. I want to be able to look down the front of your blouse and see your nipples. Do it for me, Carla. Do it because I want you to and because it will make you a little less secure.”
They walked to their table and Bryce gave Carla a tiny push toward the ladies’ room. “Please,” he whispered. The wine and the Irish coffee made her brave and daring. Not giving herself time to think, Carla walked to the bathroom, closeted herself in a stall, and removed her bra. She put the bit of silk in her purse and rebuttoned her blouse. She looked down, then smiled and unbuttoned the blouse’s top two buttons.
She walked out of the stall and checked her appearance in the large mirror. Nothing showed from the front or side but, as she looked down she could see her full breasts and her hard, erect nipples. She smiled and walked back toward the table, enjoying the sway of her breasts and the brush of her nipples against the silk of her blouse.
“Nice,” Bryce said as he watched her approach. He met her on the dance floor and took her in his arms. As they danced, he looked down. “Your breasts are magnificent,” he whispered. “Your nipples are a dark, dusky pink. Are they so hard that they hurt?”
Carla had never been asked such sexual questions by a man before. She cleared her throat, unable to speak.
“Tell me. I insist.” When she remained silent, he repeated, “I insist. Say to me, ‘My nipples are so hard that they hurt.’” He slid his hand into her hair and turned her face up. “Say it, angel.”
Certain words were hard for her to say; they always had been, even with her husband. Talking directly about sex and the anatomical parts involved had always been difficult for her. “I do hurt for you,” she murmured.
“What hurts?” he said. She was silent. “The word ‘nipple’ is difficult for you to say, isn’t it? I can tell from your body’s reaction. Your palm is damp and your hand is shaking.” She tried to look down, but his hand remained tangled in her hair. “I don’t care whether you want to or not,” he said, his lips almost touching hers. “You will do as I say. Say ‘My nipples hurt for you.’”
“Oh God. My nipples hurt for you.” Carla could barely stand. The thrill and humiliation of saying that word made her knees weak. Fortunately Bryce held her tightly, supporting her.
“Oh yes. I like this. Let’s continue this discussion somewhere else.” Quickly he paid the check and guided her to the door. They walked a block in silence, the cool air clearing Carla’s head a bit. They climbed the stairs to the door of an undistinguished building and Bryce unlocked it. “A very private place,” he said as they went inside. “It’s owned by good friends of mine who let me use it when they’re away, which they are for the entire month of September.”
Carla was aware of little as Bryce put her jacket away and guided her to the stairs that led to what she assumed was the master bedroom. They stopped about three-quarters of the way up. “Take off your blouse,” Bryce said. “Right here.”
She looked at him. Shouldn’t he undress her? Removing her own clothes seemed so forward. Remembering why she was here, she realized her feelings were ludicrous, but they were her feelings nonetheless.
“Do it,” he said, softly. “Be what they used to call a brazen hussy for me because I tell you to.”
Slowly, Carla unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. “Yes,” he said. “Your tits are magnificent, so hungry for my touch.” He saw that the harsh language made Carla’s hands shake and he smiled. “Tits. Say that word. Say ‘My tits are so hard for you.’” He could see the muscles in her throat working as she swallowed. When she hesitated, he made it sound like an order. “Say it, Carla!”
“My…tits…. are hard for you.”
“That’s a good girl,” he whispered. He walked down a step so that his mouth was level with her chest. “Hold your beautiful tits so I can suck them. Hold them for me.”
It was both scary and liberating for Carla. Bryce was making her do things she wouldn’t do herself, and she felt both compelled and freed. She slid her hands beneath her heavy breasts and lifted them so that the swollen nipples were level with Bryce’s lips.
“Good girl,” he purred. He flicked the tip of his tongue up and down over Carla’s left nipple. Then he bit it, gently. “Is that good?”
“Mmmm, yes,” she murmured.
He moved from side to side, from nipple to nipple, licking and biting until both breasts were swollen and reaching for his mouth. He turned her, urged her up the stairs and into the large bedroom. He moved to the bedside and turned on a small lamp, bathing the bed with soft light. “Your skin glows,” he said.
Carla stood and dropped her blouse, watching Bryce watch her. Suddenly she realized how good it felt to have someone look at her naked body the way Bryce was looking at her. She was a sex object, and glad of it.
Bryce flipped the covers aside, sat on the edge of the bed, and leaned back on his elbows. “Strip for me, slowly.”
Carla smiled and slowly unzipped her skirt, a bit less embarrassed knowing how she was pleasing him. She stepped out of her shoes, pulled her skirt and slip down and let them fall around her feet. She stood, wearing only her garter belt and matching stockings and her sheer white panties.
“Take off the panties,” Bryce told her, “but leave on the rest. I want to see your pussy-fur surrounded by white lace.”
Words like pussy made her tremble as she removed her panties. She stood and watched Bryce’s gaze wander slowly over her body. “Nice?” she asked.
“Lovely,” he said. “But you’re a little too calm. You’re getting too comfortable. Let’s heat things up a bit. I want you to massage your breasts while I watch. Pinch your nipples.”
When she did as he asked without much hesitation, he said, “Exhibiting your body doesn’t make you shiver the way I want you to. What seems to tantalize you is saying those words.” As he watched her blush he knew he’d found the way to make her hotter. “Say to me, ‘My pussy is wet for you.’” When she remained silent he laughed. “You’ll need to learn to say those things so I’ll have to train you. Walk over here.”
Bryce sat up as she walked to the side of the bed. When she started to sit down, he said, “Not yet. I want to make it difficult for you to stand up.” She sighed and stood between his knees. “Now,” he said, “when you’re a good girl and do as I say you’ll get your reward.” He slid his finger into her wet pussy, touching her erect clit, then pulled his hand back.
“And when I don’t?” Carla asked.
“You’ll have to just stand there and wait. Understood?”
Carla nodded.
He leaned forward and blew cool breath through her pubic hair. She shivered and he said, “Good. Now say, ‘Play with my pussy.’”
“Oh God,” she said, feeling her juices soak her crotch. “It’s so good when you touch me.”
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