Maybe

13. A Piece of Cake

by Scalar7th

Tags: #discreet_public_play #dom:male #pov:bottom #realistic #shyness #sub:female #buried_trigger #chatlog #exhibitionism #f/m #first_date #hypno #hypnotic_amnesia #nonverbal_hypnotic_trigger #posthypnotic_suggestion #roleplay #solo

My eyes opened.

I saw blue.

Blue deep as the ocean, vast as the sky.

A blue so completely enveloping it swarmed over my thoughts, and all I could think was blue, blue, blue, green, blue, blue blue blue blueblueblueblue

Every part of my mind and body were enveloped in blue. Every idea in my head, every action was blue.

Blue was swinging back and forth in front of me, dazzling me, drawing me deeper into the blue. Everywhere and everything was blue. Anything else was either nonexistent or irrelevant.

I heard my computer go into sleep mode, meaning I hadn't touched it in twenty minutes.

Holy fuck, I'm deep, I thought, and then thought, blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue

There was a voice. A blue voice, speaking blue truths into my blue-drenched being. I knew the voice, but wasn't able to attach a name or a face or anything but blue to it.

Gradually everything started to come into focus. I was staring directly into the blue stone that had been around my neck when...

Sir.

Sir had told me to sleep.

And to go deeper.

And to submerge myself in blue.

And he helped me to—

"And back down."

blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue blue


Coming up was like breaking through the surface of the ocean and being blinded by the sky. I took a deep gulp of the air around me, feeling it enliven my lungs and my mind. My eyes had been closed for a while so the dim light in my room felt shockingly bright. The soft voice was still filling my mind and awareness, but the room was otherwise so quiet and still that the voice seemed to meld and merge, in and out of the silence like stitches in a quilt. The patterns being woven were almost visible, a counterpoint to the silver chain just on the edge of my vision and the blue stone in front of my eyes. I was moving. Standing. Following the piece of blue glass. Lying down on the bed. Pulling off my panties. Being naked.

"And back down."

The waves closed over my head.


I felt a glass in my hand.

My eyes were closed, but I could feel it. I knew what a glass felt like.

I took a drink. Water. It was good. I was thirsty. I drank it down, barely spilling a drop, and held it out for Darryl to take away from me, which he did.

He helped me to the floor. Standing, first, then turning me to be on my knees. Very familiar. My hands sought out and found his legs, and I inched forward, kissing his thighs higher and higher. My fingers traced the insides of his hips, finding his scrotum first, and hearing him moan. I opened my eyes, looked up at him. Smiled. He smiled back.

"Check?"

"Green."

I wasn't sure which of us said which part of it the call and response, but that was alright. Whoever had asked was just as comfortable with what was going on as whoever had answered.

My hand encircled his erect cock, and my mouth descended on the tip as it had... forever ago. I didn't know, and didn't care, how long it had been. It felt like forever, and also so many fractured and disconnected instants. It might have been a week before. Or a month before. Or just an hour or two. I was lost and I loved it.

His hand found my head, tangled in my hair, guided my movements and my pace, and that touch, that guidance, felt so much more powerful and special and downright erotic than the fact that my lips were wrapped around his slick member, sliding along it for his pleasure. His hand pulled me in and I drew him in in turn, and then we relaxed, and then we repeated the act, and relaxed, and the movements became meditative and beautiful and rhythmic all on their own, and when that rhythm was broken and I could taste him coming in my mouth it was like an orgasm that rippled through me from my brain down to my toes.

I looked up at him, and he looked back at me, flushed and sweaty with sex and exuberance, and though he was finished, it was clear he wasn't done yet.

"And," he breathed, trying to recover his strength, "back down."

Joy overwhelmed me and I sank into the new-discovered light.


I was essence. Spirit. I was dissolving and dissolved. I was no one but pleasure, no one but ecstasy,

and he was between my legs,

drinking of me like I was a fountain,

his hands holding me down at the hips so that I didn't float away,

holding me together so I didn't tear myself apart at a subatomic level and burn through this small city like a fire in a tinder-dry forest,

his tongue both stoking and quenching in equal measures, pulling me through the mists of my own being until in an absolute torrent I fell again below the waters of my own making,

I was essence. Spirit. Coming apart at the seams as the physical body that held me, restricted me, couldn't take it any longer, and

I was sinking.


And back up.

I lay on my back in bed, exhausted, naked, sweaty, sticky, and completely, utterly satisfied. Darryl cuddled close to my side, hand playing in my hair, whispering words of awareness and strength and motion and will.

I twisted with a suddenness that surprised even me and I planted a big, messy, hyperenthused kiss on his gorgeous mouth.

I looked in his eyes. He looked in mine.

"You good?"

"Yes, Sir. You good?"

"Yeah."

We lay there and held each other a long while. I was still floating, still drifting, and if he'd said a word to me about it, I'd've been back down in the blue.

I'd had lovers before. Been with people before. Kissed and caressed and loved and fucked. But I'd never been so naked, so exposed, as I was right then. My brain was mush, my thoughts were slurry, my emotions were focused directly on the beautiful man holding me, and my body was... tired. Exhaustion kept me in the moment, in reality. It was difficult being an essence of light and spirit when my knees ached from resting on them.

Then he spoke a word, a word that I had no idea could be such a beautiful, wonderful, magical word, a word which made my whole self ache with a new need, a feeling I could neither deny, nor resist.

"Cake?"

I rolled onto my back again. "Oh, yes, please." I kept moving and sat up on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to let the dizziness subside. "That was... Darryl, that was incredible. I didn't know that could..."

He made his way to sit next to me, and put an arm around my shoulders. I cuddled in to the embrace. "We can talk more about it after dessert, I think."

I nodded. "I need sugar. And to clean up."

"Me too."

I led the way to the bathroom (not that he couldn't figure out where it was), grabbed a couple washcloths, and we rather mundanely cleaned hands and faces and other parts until we felt comfortable enough to go eat.

"Dress?" I asked as I rinsed out the cleaning gear.

"See a need?" he asked in reply.

I flushed. "N-no, I um... I guess..." The big picture window pointing out at the road that looked into my living room set my mind racing; the facts that I hadn't opened the curtains in weeks and that it was well after sunset and few if any people would be out walking didn't really register properly.

"See a need, Rosiegirl?"

I shivered at the name, wrung out the washcloths, and steeled myself. "No. No need. Let's go have cake."

Darryl went downstairs first, which was nice, because I was moving a little slow, and also because I was shaking. My confidence didn't extend to actually walking downstairs naked, even though it would have taken a peeping Tom to see anything. I heard him in the kitchen as I made my way a little unsteadily across the floor, suddenly aware of every flaw and imperfection, the weight I wanted to lose, the graceless, awkward way I walked... Which was also silly, given that Darryl had seen me in the altogether a few times at this point and hadn't rejected me once.

In the kitchen, my eyes weren't so much fixed on Darryl's fine ass (though I did note it) but on the small cake he was serving up. I was hungry.

Darryl brought two decent slices each representing about a sixth of the whole. "I slaved for hours over a hot grocery store line."

I grinned. "Normally I'm the one to do the hot slaving."

He chuckled. "I definitely approve of that."

He held out a chair for me and I sat. I looked at him as he took his own chair. "No hypnotic tricks with dessert?"

"Do you want some?"

I flushed. "Uh. P-probably not. I mean... It's, um, been so great. So great, Darryl. Amazing. But... I think it's... been enough for now."

He smiled at me and took a bite of his cake. I did the same. It was nothing special, as a dessert went, but at that moment, tired and hungry and satisfied as I was, it was the perfect lemony end to the day. We ate in silence, sharing glances and smiles and nods. I was the one to serve up the seconds, and then we put the remaining third of the cake in the fridge.

"Breakfast," I said, and we laughed.

"So... still want me to stay?" he asked.

"Yes!" I exclaimed far too quickly. I took a bite of my cake, then clarified. "Yes, I do, I want to wake up with you tomorrow morning, and spend the day with you."

"I'm glad. I want that, too."

I flushed, warmed at the thought. "Movie after dessert?"

"Sounds good. What should we watch?"

I hesitated, covering my indecision with a bite of cake. Comedy? Drama? Romance? Horror? I didn't even know where to begin. I knew Darryl liked a good political drama, but that might have been too heavy for the—

I recognized the pattern. I swallowed. "Cheesy comedy?"

He nodded. "Sure, I'm in."

We didn't wait until after dessert, but took our cake to the couch and snuggled there. I put in a forgettable b-rated joke movie that was about fifteen years old, and we spent more time laughing at the movie than the jokes. I got a bag of chips out and a couple cans of soda at the halfway mark. It felt... comfortable. Homey. It felt like I wanted more.

As the movie was coming to an end, I lifted Darryl into a sitting position. Without a word, I straddled him on the couch. We started to kiss. It felt right, righter than I would have imagined. We went slowly. Tenderly. We were tired, but we were excited, and I felt him getting hard, pressing into my thigh, and felt myself getting wet in response.

"Two questions," he said when we took a breath.

"Okay."

"First, here, or bed?"

I smiled and kissed his forehead. "Here. Then bed."

He kissed my neck and I melted a bit. "Second. Hypno, or no?"

I thought about it. "Yes, in the morning." I ground into him a bit. "I want you in my mind all day tomorrow. Tomorrow you do anything and everything you want to me, and with me."

"And tonight?'

I gave his a deep kiss and slipped him inside just enough for us both to feel it. He moaned into my mouth. He tasted like lemon from the cake and vinegar from the chips and I loved everything about it.

"Tonight," I said, "maybe I'm in control."

He raised an eyebrow. "Maybe?"

I flushed. "Maybe." I pressed down on him and wiggled my hips, enjoying the feel of him inside me for the first time.

"Maybe, Rosa?"

I bit his lip, just a little. "Maybe. And that's the only answer you're gonna hear." I started to ride him, then.

He gasped with pleasure, and smiled. "It's the only answer I need."

x15

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