But I decided not to spend any time on why I’d started to think of her in some of the ways I thought about submissives, It was more important to tug her jeans and knickers down, leaving them midway down her thighs.
I was half-right about her shaving. She had been shaving and now she’d stopped, so that new growth was starting to obscure the bottom of the tattoo, like creeper overgrowing a road sign.
Maybe she’d shaved while she was with the boot boys, and only stopped once she’d felt she should lose her habits from that part of her life. So the re-growth must be good symbolism, in a way. Also, it seemed that when her hair wasn’t dyed green and blue, it was light brown.
I kissed bristly, light brown femininity, and looked up at Raylene’s face. She was watching me intently. She was standing while I sat. She had her jeans pulled down her thighs so she had the cold kitchen air around her cunt and bottom, while I was fully clothed. She was waiting while I led.
Most women would be, oh, undressing me, kissing me, telling me to stand up and kiss them: something. So it seemed a good time to act by instinct, and hope like hell I was right.
I smacked her the inside of her left thigh, lightly but unmistakably a smack, to signal that I wanted her to part her legs more. Raylene moved her feet, obediently and without indignation, so I could cup my hand around her cunt. Which I did, and explored folded, intricate girlskin, gently.
Raylene opened herslf a little more, her thighs and her mouth. She was holding her breath.
I kissed her belly again, feeling an enormous wave of affection, also lust, the feelings I have when submissives surrender themselves and obey, and because that feeling had been building for a while I said, “good girl.”
Raylene drew in a breath, hard, partly because I pushed my fingers into her when I spoke, and I think partly because of those words. I stroked her, saying, “that’s good, good girl love, you’re such a good girl.” This in my kindest, most reasonable voice, the words and tone doms use to reassure submissives, though they’re guaranteed to annoy a woman in a vanilla frame of mind.
But Raylene took a step back. I didn’t have my hand in her cunt any more. She took her hands off my shoulders. Oh, I thought. Oh damn.