Thank you everyone!
TW: there are some BDSM scene.
September 10, 2023 - Hamburger Mary's WeHo, Los Angeles, Amelia's birthday
In every historical period of my life and during every activity, evaluation or sphere I have always been defined as all too capable of concealing my emotions. It happened when I was in elementary school and everyone mistook my silences and low demands as shyness or as meekness: in reality I was the same little girl who in the intervals forced her best friend to play the "tramp game", laying out cartons (which were then nothing more than carpets of leaves) and forcing him to beg for charity from all the children who passed by that spot in the yard. Then as a reward, because I felt guilty, I would allow him to make out on my lips behind the trunk of a tree. Here, it is not the moment I am most proud of, on the contrary, but ability to be heard, what they call leadership nowadays, ability to express one's opinions and ability to feel emotions I had plenty of. And I would also like to point out, for the record, that he was the first and only male I ever kissed with real interest: all the rare subsequent flirtations with males were nothing more than passing "headaches."
I was also accused of not knowing how to be in touch with my emotions during my high school years, when my professors accused me of being too quiet, too sulky, too inattentive, too listless. No one who ever asked me what I was experiencing inside, that is, a whirlwind of different and quite inexplicable and incomprehensible emotions for me. I had put up a wall to protect myself, keeping others, especially professors, away was certainly not my main goal.
The confusion increased for me when during softball games my father and my coach would tell me that I was a force of nature. I had the perfect physique, I could bat perfectly, I ran at the perfect speed, and I had a vision of the field, opponents and game tactics that almost made me the assistant coach. What I had that was really perfect according to them, however, was that I never got carried away by any kind of emotion. If I felt anxiety, no one knew. If I was afraid, if I felt anger, if I was happy, if that day was sad...no one ever noticed, and to the two of them, dad and coach, it was an immeasurable talent.
On the day of the final exam at the Academy among my best qualities were my response time, the way I could handle my physique, although I was not strong, but I knew perfectly, both in theory and in practice, the function of levers and physics in general. Again, however, there was one aspect that definitely prevailed: unflappability. The committee spent more than three-quarters of my final exam praising my ability not to be carried away by events, to keep emotions from getting in the way of my work, and the precious, quick and unattainable in terms of quality ability of the mind to function like a genius.
"So why?" I have always asked myself. Why have so many people in my life often accused me of not being able to feel emotions? Andy for example. She's known me all my life, yet she's been nagging me all my life, precisely, because I don't let go of my emotions, because I'm not communicative enough. So my question has always been, what should I do? Is it possible that I always have to feel so much like a puppet in the hands of others?
And I'm thinking this even as I'm sitting for the first time in this particular venue, where Amelia's birthday party is taking place. The emotions inside me are definitely dancing the samba, mingling with each other, often even becoming difficult to be recognized. I've been living with anxiety on me all day, and I actually don't think I've been able to communicate enough with Carina. This is the first time we are going out in a group explicitly as a couple: it's kind of our debutante ball, our public coming out. I try not to put too much emphasis on it, but I'm also nervous about being in a club I've never been to before and especially with people I've hardly ever seen.
There is Amelia of course, the birthday girl, and there is her fiancée, Kai. Then there are other more or less familiar faces among Carina's colleagues, for example Jo, for example Margaret and two others I've seen on other group occasions, maybe even exchanged a few words with them, but I honestly don't remember the names. There is one person who was introduced to me as Addison, who I understand is sort of a sister to Amelia and apparently is a great friend of Carina's. Carina told me that they are colleagues and that she was the person who from Seattle, the place from which she actually traveled to be here present tonight, recommended her to Miranda and her current hospital.
Carina has been standing in the corner of the dance floor chatting happily right along with Addison ever since we entered this club, amidst great laughter and a few hugs. I'm not jealous at all, you can tell a mile away that there is only immense affection and esteem between them, but nothing more. I'm still struggling, though. I don't know anyone else from what seems to me to be thousands of invited people, I don't feel like I belong in this club or in this climate in general, so I sit at a small table, over a glass of gin, almost hoping that a chink will open up underneath me and make me slowly disappear.
< is it all too much even for you?> a voice asks beside me and I startle, turning to look at them.
< sorry!> they smile sweetly. < I didn't mean to scare you. We're Kai, Amelia's girlfriend..> I nod, remembering them.
M < yes, of course! Maya, nice to meet you!> and instead of extending my hand to them, I lean my glass out towards them and we toast.
K < we were saying...is everything too much for you too?> they ask me and for the first time I feel understood on the fly by a stranger who is not Carina. Most people if they see you standing on the sidelines at a party will tend to think you're a misfit, a pain in the ass, or a sad person, in a judgmental and negative sense. There will be no one, or few, who will stop to think that maybe you are really experiencing discomfort and one smile might help.
M < not really my environment let's say..> Kai nod.
K < firefighter, right?> I nod, a little surprised that they know about it, but they themselves reveal the arcane to me in short order. < Amelia told me it was also the first official outing with Carina...I think I can imagine where all this anxiety is coming from...!> they exclaim, then taking a sip from their beer.
M < being with Carina is the least anxious thing for me ever..> I state and they laugh.
K < oh, I can imagine. Being around strangers in a drag queen club, knowing that your girlfriend's co-workers are carefully studying you like you're a rare heirloom, must be a little worse!> I laugh and a small spark ignites in me: it's the first time anyone has ever referred to Carina as my girlfriend.
M < are there drag queens?> I ask surprised and they nod.
K < it's not even my ideal place...it makes me nervous all this contagious happiness...but what one doesn't do for love, right?> they smile and I smile back. We observe the scene from a distance for some time, then I realize that a few words were enough to relax me and all in all it seems pleasant to start a conversation with Kai. I almost lose track of time as we comfortably sit at a small table, drinking our respective favorite booze, chatting about our jobs, our girlfriends, Kai telling me about their passion for singing and country dancing, me about my past as a promising softball star and my record with darts that has held sway for years among the precinct Stations in this city.
Now that I had relaxed enough to have forgotten where I am, a sudden roar and an increasingly chaotic and jolly chatter suddenly reminds me.
K < it's time for the party..> Kai yell in my ear and shortly after I find Carina sitting on my lap and most of the guests excited and screaming around our small table and the neighbors. Amelia stays in front of them all, while Carina turns slightly on my legs and kisses my mouth.
C < are you okay?> she then whispers in my ear and I smile, nodding, holding her close to me. It feels good to hold hands on her legs in front of everyone, exchanging affection.
M < are you okay?> I ask for confirmation and she nods.
C < yes! Sorry if you felt abandoned!> I laugh, shaking my head.
M < don't worry about it... > Carina would like to say something more, but the lights dim further and on a stage, I hadn't even noticed before, a show begins.
I spend most of the time actually observing Carina's amused and happy look, which is really infectious, just as evident is the happiness and relaxation on the faces of all the other guests. The drag queens sing and dance on stage and around the venue, passing between tables, causing cheers and choruses of incitement. It is a spectacle I had never witnessed, and for the first time, looking around, including with Carina on my lap, I feel part of a community. I know it's silly, because it's like saying that if I went to see a classical ballet performance, like The Nutcracker, then I would automatically feel part of the dance world. But it's not the same thing. Now at this precise moment with the somewhat confusing choruses that don't belong to me, the loud music, the drag with their flashy clothes and heavy makeup, people around me who are in turn holding hands or kissing or hugging people belonging to the same community... for the first time I realize that I feel comfortable, that I am fine, that my brain is not working, if only for a split second.
And it is the same feeling of well-being that accompanies me even a few hours later when I am lying, naked, on the carpet in Carina's bedroom.
Amelia's party could have gone on for hours more, with a peak of excitement reached when, immediately after the drag queen performance, one of the stars of the show brought a huge leg, complete with fishnet stocking and stiletto heels, filled with liquor and straws to our table. We all drank, I got a little more wild myself, dragged along by Carina's growing enthusiasm and hangover. There was a moment, though, when, in the midst of the confusion, she and I looked at each other and understood each other on the fly: everything was beautiful, but our only wish was to be able to be together. We slowed down the dancing, drank lots of water, and in no time we were back at Carina's house. At that point I would have "settled" for a quiet cuddle session in bed, because really the only thing that mattered to me was, and is, being able to have physical contact with Carina, but not necessarily sexual. It is "just" comforting to have her with me and to be able to hold her.
Evidently Carina had other ideas in her head, however, because after a quick shower, taken separately, she ordered me to undress and wait for her sitting on the edge of the bed. The thrill I felt on receiving her order was something so strong, never felt before, that I could have orgasmed just from the intention concealed behind her words. But the astonishment was not over: Carina came out of the bathroom wearing a black latex bodice that wrapped around her torso and, almost in contrast, a skimpy pair of black lace panties. If anticipation had made me salivate greatly, now my throat is drier than a desert. I stare at her open-mouthed, almost unable to move and do whatever is required at the moment. Carina, by the way, has not stopped surprising me as she pulls out a riding crop from behind her back. I swallow, and the sexy movement with which she unveils it from behind her back forces me to run my gaze over her entire figure, and so I realize that a pair of stiletto heels completes the picture of the most beautiful and sensual woman in the world. When finally, after an endless time, our eyes meet, I seem to see Carina smile imperceptibly, but she immediately resumes the somewhat hard look that belongs to her role at this moment.
C < lie down..> she tells me, pointing to the white, long-haired rug at the foot of the bed. I look at her uncertainly and Carina then takes two steps toward me, deftly rubbing the cords, also black leather, of the riding crop on my back.
C < lie down, please..> she repeats it, and I realize that if I don't move the consequences will be a more precise use of this darned exciting whip. I jump up and rest my hands on her hips, out of instinct, hoping to draw her to me and kiss. Wrong move. In a second I feel the bare skin of my bottom burning hotly: she spanked me with the riding crop! I blink in disbelief, perhaps even more disbelief to discover how much I am enjoying this.
C < I'm saying this for the last time, Maya. Lie down..> I raise my hands in surrender and retreat a few steps, to do exactly as she requested. I lie down on the carpet and...fuck. The view from below is even more exciting: I don't think I have ever experienced anything like this in my life, but neither had I ever been able to imagine it.
Carina begins to walk hips around my body, and for the first time in minutes I remember that I am naked. Out of instinct I close my legs, almost ashamed of my nakedness, but Carina hurries to put a foot between my thighs, effectively preventing me from closing my legs.
C < no, no..> she smacks her lips. < open them..> she says when I don't move. I sigh and do as she tells me: with the toe of her shoe she pushes just off my thighs, spreading them wider and wider. I close my eyes, trying to let go of any shame, but then I also think that if I close my eyes I will miss the spectacle of seeing Carina literally towering over my body.
C < spread your arms..> she then orders me, and in an instant I am a naked Vitruvian man. Carina positions her feet each sideways at my hips, exactly at the height of my pelvis. For a moment I find myself wishing that I could have a protuberance, a penis, that she could sit on, to enjoy thoroughly. Apparently instead, Carina finds pleasure in torturing me with the strings of the whip she runs along my body. It is all silent and it is all slow. I feel like I'm living a movie in slow motion, but I also feel like I can feel the arousal running through the veins of my body with speed I've never experienced before. Carina watches me from above, attentively follows every movement, involuntary, of my body, every reaction to the passing of the whip, and returns each time to torture me more in the places she realizes make me fidget the most. It sounds absurd, but she tickles my neck with incredible dedication, for it is the spot that most fills my body with shivers. She circles around the areolas of my nipples with minuteness and precision, making my nipples harder and harder and shamefully turgid. She turns around, showing me her back and especially showing me the curves of her bottom, wrapped perfectly in lace, which just looking at it fills my brain with fantasies, with the desire to bite it, to lick it, to possess it...I bite my lip trying to hold back a moan, which would like to escape high from my mouth, while Carina leans forward, knowing the effect it has on me at the sight of her bottom, and passes the riding crop between the folds of my intimacy. It is an involuntary gesture, fleeting and the result of impatience that causes me to bring one arm closer to my body so that I can at least squeeze one breast. As soon as my fingers wrap around and pinch the nipple, I feel a rush of air envelop the room, and soon after I am forced to let out a scream when that rush turns into the hard skin of the riding crop colliding with the equally hard skin of my thigh.
C < did I tell you you could touch yourself?> she asks in a harsh tone and I roll my eyes. When I do, however, Carina launches a new hit with the whip, again on my thigh, but this time distinctly closer to my sex.
M < holy shit...!> I whisper, after letting out another scream. The mind-blowing thing is that what makes me scream, aside from the surprise, is the pleasure it all causes me. I sigh, seeking a moment's respite, and Carina turns, placing herself between my legs, still open for her. For a moment, the respite turns into sincere affection, because Carina looks at me and seems to want to make sure she has not crossed some kind of line. In response to her thoughtfulness, I choose to provoke her by trying again to touch my breasts: Carina's eyes literally ignite and this time instead of striking me with the whip, she rests the heel of her shoe on my lower abdomen and applies pressure. I immediately spread my arms wide, throw my head back and roll my eyes from pain mixed with pleasure.
C <don't provoke me..> Carina whispers and a smile escapes me.
M < if not...?> I provoke her again and she almost snorts like a caged, angry bull. She breaks away from me suddenly and orders me to sit down. I do so and realize that I am out of breath and drenched in sweat. Carina leaves me sitting on the floor, shocked and perplexed, as she walks a few steps away and sits sensually in an armchair, the existence of which I have hitherto been unaware. She keeps her legs wide, purposely, but her stiletto heels and natural beauty give her an incredible curvaceousness.
M < you look beautiful..> I say and she can't seem to contain herself, devoting a splendid smile to me.
C < what would you like now?> I open my mouth, but she waves her riding crop in the air. < think about it, it's your only chance...> I close my eyes and really think about it.
M < get undressed?> and it almost comes out as a shy, embarrassed question. Carina snaps her mouth.
C < is that a question?> she taunts me and I sigh, trying to regain some firmness.
M < no. Take your clothes off!> I want to order it with the same passion and vehemence she uses, but I feel a bit like Donald Duck. Carina however nods and stands up. She drops the riding crop a few inches from me, almost a veiled threat or a very recent reminder, and slowly, staring intensely into my eyes, she undresses. Whether she does it on purpose or not, she finds herself naked in front of me in just her heels. I distract myself to observe the shimmer present between her legs, an indication of how wet and aroused she is as well: if a power play leads us to this state, let it rule me forever! When she is about to slip off her heels, however, I move and with agility grab her ankle, preventing any further movement.
M < no!> I exclaim. < these no...!> I hear her open her mouth and perhaps she would like to say something with respect to the fact that in here, tonight, she decides, but I stifle her every word by beginning to lick her ankle. Her legs barely tremble in surprise, but the effect is short-lived, for in a few moments I find her fingers clinging to my hair, which is pulled back: she lifts my head so that I can look at her face.
C < I decide..> she states and with a decisive gesture she slips off me, leaving me once again naked and unsatisfied on the carpet.
C < on the bed!> she orders and within seconds I recover, jumping on the bed. Carina actually decides following my wish and keeps her heels on: I don't know how comfortable they will be on the bed, but I want her that way. She then orders me to sit with my back against the headboard and spread my legs. Carina crawls sensually on the bed between my legs, and I can't resist the temptation to place my hands on her head: I don't know whether I wanted to grab her to kiss her or to push her toward my sex either, the fact is that Carina shakes herself, removing herself from my grasp.
C < Maya, Maya..> she shakes her head and gets out of bed. She opens the drawer of her nightstand and starts pulling out everything, making me think for a moment of Mary Poppins. I become like putty in her hands and let her bind my wrists behind my back, let her put a clamp on my nipples, and open my eyes from anticipation and pleasure when she turns on a small vibrator. The most surprising part, however, is when the vibrator does not end up on me. Rather somehow she manages to stand on the bed, facing me, just spreading her legs wide and that damn purple vibrator ends up right between her legs. She masturbates in front of me and I am so desperate: I know I cannot close my legs and relieve the sensation I feel with a little friction if I don't want to make my situation worse; I cannot concentrate on the pain the nipple clamp is causing me, because by the opposite effect I become even more aroused; I cannot even think about the frustration I feel at having my hands literally tied in this situation. Defensively then I close my eyes and throw my head back, as if to get away from the source of extreme pleasure that is Carina.
After a few moments, however, I hear the sound of vibration getting closer and closer and the taste of Carina pervading the plastic object is now between my half-closed lips.
M < oh god..> I whisper.
C < open your eyes..> I do as she tells me and meet Carina's satisfied, winking gaze.
C < are you ready to behave yourself?> she asks me and I nod: I don't think I have the gift of speech anymore. Carina at this point sits on my lap, wide-legged, and runs the vibrator between us. She places it perfectly between my sex and hers, alternating just the right amount of pressure, causing uncontrolled moans in both of us.
M < Carina, please..> I whimper and she sighs, throwing her head back.
C < please what?>
M < let me touch..> I say and I don't even know if my request makes any sense. Carina moves quickly though, tossing the vibrator somewhere on the bed behind us, unties my wrists and then throws her arms around my neck, kissing me passionately. I feel her tongue creep overbearingly into me and our bodies clutching and seeking each other, rubbing against each other, mixing fluids. My hands are immediately on her back, wanting to squeeze her to get more and more on her. Carina hisses when her breasts rub against the clamps still hanging on my nipples.
M < did I hurt you?> I whisper, but she doesn't even answer me, she kisses me in despair, while with agitated but precise gestures she also releases me from this umpteenth instrument of torture. We are both so aroused and gripped by desire that we would probably just have to squirm a little more to orgasm, but evidently Carina thinks otherwise, because she detaches herself from my body and our entanglement, beginning to leave kisses scattered across my chest and further and further down. I fully understand her intentions and involuntarily pleasure speaks for me, causing me to spread my legs. There is a moment, though. A moment when I feel the need to speak louder than all the others.
M < wait, wait..> I hasten to say, picking her uncomfortably from under her armpits. Carina lifts her head and stares at me, breathless.
C < what is it?> she asks, almost exhausted from the role-play she has staged herself. I sigh and now feel like a fool.
M < it's just that...> I pause for a moment and feel my cheeks go up in flames. < I know it's not the right time...let it be..> Carina, of course, rises up on her elbows and looks at me worriedly.
C < did I do something wrong?> and I shake my head immediately, taking her face in my hands.
M < no, no..> and I kiss her lips softly.
C < are you sure?> I nod.
M < yes...is that..> I take a deep breath, before looking into her eyes: eye contact is necessary. < it's that I love you...I love you to death and I couldn't hold it in any longer..> Carina bursts out laughing, and if we weren't naked, in the middle of an exchange of love and desire, I would feel deeply embarrassed. When her eyes fill with tears, however, I can tell that hers is just a reaction to something unexpected.
M < sorry, I know it's not the right time..>
C < why not?> she asks with an odd little smile and I turn even redder.
M < we weren't really intent on very romantic activities..> Carina laughs again, shrugging.
C < I love you too, my love..> she finally replies, reaching out to me and kissing me with an intensity that seems even greater than all the previous times our tongues have danced together.
Now I really can't resist anymore, though. I have freed myself of yet another burden and can no longer go another minute without feeling the taste of Carina in my mouth. With a flick of my kidneys then I reverse the situation and make her lie down on the mattress. Carina immediately raises her knees, pointing her feet, still inside her stiletto heels, on the mattress: she opens herself wonderfully to me and I slam my face between her legs. I savor with desire her taste, finally on my lips: I pass my tongue between her folds, going immediately to hold between my lips her clitoris, which throbs wildly between my teeth, which bite into it, causing Carina to scream in surprise and pleasure. She weaves her legs around my neck, while I hold her down by her hips, even as Carina does her best to move and come at me, almost rubbing herself vigorously against my mouth. I barely harden my tongue to torture her, penetrating her and thrusting my tongue into her. Carina reacts by throwing her head back, moaning loudly and pointing her heels against my back. Tomorrow I will have major marks all over my body, I know, but I can't stop marveling at how pain can be so closely related to pleasure. Carina moves bumpily beneath me, and the movement of her body makes mine move reflexively: as I penetrate her and make love to her vagina, smelling her scent, wetting my chin entirely, biting her clitoris and helping myself with two fingers, I move my body incessantly on the mattress. In the undulating motion of our bodies moving in unison, my clitoris has found the perfect fold of the sheet, creating a perfect friction, so the instant Carina screams her orgasm, planting her heel even further into my back and pulling my hair, I come in turn, moaning loudly between Carina's thighs, while continuing to focus on her post-orgasm, slowly accompanying her to calmness.