Ocean Of Need

4 Rules - Spice Rating 🔥🔥🔥

April 2nd

It was late when I left last night and made my way back to Freya's apartment in the bay. I felt other worldly and strange after seeing the painting you painted of me.

All night long I thought of you. All night long I wanted to return to this room.

It's hot in here today. Weird weather. I can't seem to settle to my work. I keep glancing out of the window. I don't know your rhythms yet. Don't know the shape of your day. I can't settle to anything, there's a fever in my veins and the fever has a name. Macallan.

It's lunch time now, and still you haven't come. What if you don't come back? But, of course you'll come back. You brought all your stuff here yesterday. You painted me, and I typed my poems. You wouldn't just disappear would you?

By late afternoon you still haven't arrived. The painting on your easel is waiting to be finished. The girl-woman in the painting is me. She looks happy, relaxed. It's a long time since I've seen her look like that.

I start to type a poem, about honey. I take the page from the typewriter, use a pencil to cross out lines, add words in, scribble them out again. I'm so focused that I forget that I'm waiting for you to come, until the air changes, and I feel heat behind me.

'Amber,' you mummer in my ear.

Goose bumps coat my arms and I lean back in my chair as you gently wrap your hand around my throat and kiss the side of my face. My core melts.

'I missed you,' I whisper, then blush at the ridiculousness of the statement.

'I missed you back.' I hear a smile in your voice. 'I have something to show you.'

I swallow the anxiety that is suddenly in my mouth, remembering that I've only known you for one day. You could be a crazy guy, and I'm not entirely sure that I want to see what you have to show me.

You must feel me stiffen, because you say, 'I made something for you, nothing scary.'

You step in front of me, hold out an i-pad, and show me a portrait of a woman, with gold hair. Her tongue is sticking out and honey drips from it. It's the most sensual thing I've ever seen.

'Oh,' I say. But now I'm tongue tied and lose my words. It hasn't happened in years, but it keeps happening when I'm with you.

'Amber?' you say and cock your head to the side, 'Cat got your tongue?'

I nod.

'Open your mouth Amber.'

'What?'

'You heard me, open your mouth.'

I open my mouth, wondering how you've already got this much control over me.

'Stick out your tongue.'

I stick out my tongue and you take it between your thumb and forefinger.

'Stand.'

I stand and you lead me to the bed by my tongue. It's the strangest thing I've ever felt.

'Sit.'

I sit on the edge of the bed and you let go of my tongue, drop to your knees in front of me, and say, 'Yes or no, answers now Amber. Unless you can say more.'

'Yes.'

'Are you afraid of me?'

I shake my head, 'No,' then nod, 'Yes.'

'In a bad way?'

'No,' I say and you smile.

'In an exciting way?'

'Yes,' I say, and my smile matches yours, as my stomach catches on itself.

'Would you like to play with me? Explore your edges?'

'Yes.'

'Have you played like this before?'

I nod.

'Use your words Amber.' Your voice is strict and I breathe the strictness of it into my lungs.

'Yes I have.'

'Good. I have two rules.'

I nod.

'One, you have to always use your words when I ask a question. And two, we have a safe word. If either one of us says the safe word, we both stop what we're doing and talk.'

I nod.

'Do you have any rules?'

'My rules are the same as you. And if I can't speak, I'll tap out,' I say.

'Good girl,' you nod in appreciation. 'What do you want the safe word to be?'

I stare into your eyes and say, 'Ocean.'

Your lips quirk into a smile, 'Ocean then. Would you like to play now?'

'Yes.'

'And how should you say that?'

'Yes please, Sir.'

'Good Girl.'

I watch as you walk to the desk, pour a whiskey, clink an ice cube into it, and sit in the leather chair. You look at me, and my skin heats up in all the places your eyes land.

'Come here Miss Amber.'

I stand and start to walk.

'No, Amber. On all fours. Crawl to me.'

I drop to all fours, look into your ocean eyes and crawl to you. Stopping and kneeling at your feet.

You hold out your glass, 'Lick the sweat from the glass, Amber. I want to see if you're able to take direction.'

I lick the glass as I look up at you. The glass is cold and there's a warm breeze coming through the window.

'Good Girl,' you say, and I hear the hitch in your breath, as my breath echoes it. You take an ice cube from the glass and slowly paint my lips with it. 'I'm going to paint you now, Miss Amber.'

I frown, 'Again?'

'You're questioning me?' Your tone is suddenly stern and my body contracts at the sound of it.

'No. I mean, I thought...'

'You thought we'd play?' you smile. 'Oh, my dear, we'll play. Now, crawl back to the bed, little pet, so I can watch your ass sway as you go.'

I crawl back to the bed with you following behind me. Then you step in front of me and pat the bed, so I crawl up on to it.

You study me, your eyes roaming across my body and say, 'Those clothes are going to need to come off in order for me to paint you, Miss Amber,' and then you walk back to your paint supplies.

I wait on the bed, not sure what to so. With your back still to me, you say, 'Clothes off, Amber.'

I peel off my clothes, as you roll a large piece of canvas out on the floor. Turning back to me you let out a long low whistle as your eyes travel across me. 'Beautiful girl. Now every painting I paint will be of you. You just became my muse.'

My heart jumps around inside my ribs and I will it to calm the fuck down.

'Now Amber, I'm going to need you to lay on the canvas.'

'Yes Sir,' I say as I start to walk.

'No, wait.' You close the space between us, slide an arm under my back and one under my knees, and say, 'I need to place you.'

You carry me like a doll to the canvas and set me on it, then place me on my back, then my front, then my knees. You constantly move my legs and arms, adjusting the position of my head. The warm breeze plays on my skin and each time you move me, you step back to inspect me. Finally, you place me on all fours and say, 'Perfect.'

I stay still, under your gaze. My clit pulsing. I have no idea what you'll do next.