Tiana Pt. 01 — An Old Acquaintance

I had just come off a grueling book tour, somehow having managed to write a bestseller. My agent promised to run Interference so that I could get started on a sequel, but I had one last appearance I wanted to make. I offered to do a book signing at the local independent bookstore; it's a good store run by friendly people and only 15 minutes from my house. The place was a favorite of mine with dark wood bookshelves and a small coffee shop in the back with some of the best pastries to be found.

My table was placed near the front of the door, and I rarely had a break from locals stopping by wanting me to sign their copies or ask questions about the book. Many just want to chat. It was during these moments that I noticed that one of the store employees kept glancing my way. The couple of times I caught her staring, I couldn't quite place the look she was giving me--perhaps recognition or just curiosity. She was a good-looking woman, possibly a few years younger than me. From what I could tell, under her conservative bookstore attire, she had a nice trim figure. I couldn't decide if her facial features were mousy or a little Cheshire cat-like. But balancing out her facial features was her beautiful, golden-brown hair, which reached down to the middle of her back, with a few thin, random beaded braids mixed in. Overall, she was quite attractive in an earthy sort of way.

Finally, I made myself ask the manager her name. I was a bit taken aback when she said "Tiana Roberts". I had known a Tiana Roberts in my youth. I didn't know her well, but the couple of times we crossed paths were memorable. Was that why she had been glancing my way all afternoon, trying to figure out if I was the boy she knew from Colorado--holy cow. Here we were in a small Northern California town, a thousand miles and a quarter century away from those brief teenage encounters.

If this was the same Tiana, our first encounter had resulted in my first make-out session, and I had managed to give her an unfortunate hickey on the front of her throat. That night was all innocent enough; I don't believe I even got a feel, that is, I didn't even make it to 'second base.' I saw her a couple of days later on the street with a large band-aid on her throat, but then I lost track of her. I don't think I ever saw her all through high school, but it was a large school of over 2,000 students. She was also a grade lower than I.

The second time we crossed paths was not so innocent. It was after we had graduated high school during that challenging time, between 18 and 21, when you could buy 3.2 beer in Colorado but no other alcohol, so you still needed to be clever to get hard stuff. I recall that I had just turned 20 and learned she would soon be 19. That date--if you could call it that--was also memorable for the wrong reasons. She had an older sister, Madelyn. My longtime friend, roommate, and coworker Jim and Madelyn had arranged a get-together at our apartment, and it was the second time I was being set up with Tiana.

We had gotten our hands on some Tequila and got naked. Well, there was too much booze and some other less-than-legal substances, and the evening fell apart. Apparently, the plan all along--for which everyone but me was in on--was for Tiana and me to have sex. I was too drunk and guilty of non-performance. She didn't say anything about my failure, one way or the other. In fact, she had said very little that night.

Things in the other bedroom also didn't go well. Jim passed out on Madelyn. Madelyn was quite drunk and really wanted to be screwed; it didn't matter by who, and she wanted me to provide the service in the absence of Jim. In high school, she had the reputation of being a slut. This desperation to get fucked, said that reputation might have been deserved. Jim and Madelyn weren't dating, so I agreed. Well, I still couldn't get it up, and that was before I developed a pussy eating passion. This apparently was quite upsetting to Madelyn. She ended up crying because no one--specifically me--would screw her. Tiana got her distraught sister dressed, and they left.

I hadn't learned anything about Tiana that night, and never saw her again. The only other time her name came up was perhaps a year later when I heard she was working in the local massage parlor giving out happy endings. The thought briefly crossed my mind to investigate that rumor and visit the massage parlor, but it never happened. I probably had realized I wouldn't have the nerve to follow through, and without any peer pressure to do so, I never even seriously considered trying. Besides, given our history, she might not have been happy to see me, and I wouldn't get my hand job.

So... yeah. Now, it's a quarter century later. It's a bit strange and potentially awkward if this were the same woman, but I needed to find out. If it was her, we might be like old acquaintances meeting years later, far from home, or it might just be really fucking uncomfortable given our past.

When it got quiet in the store and after one aborted attempt--having only made it as far as a bookshelf near my table and then pretending to look at a random book--I eventually got the nerve to walk over to where she was arranging books in the nonfiction section.

"Excuse me. Are you Tiana Roberts?"

She looked at me, seemingly flustered. "Yes." The conversation awkwardly paused before she said, "I've read your book, and I really liked it."

"Thanks. Do we know each other from Colorado?"

"I think so; you went by Tony then, not Anthony, and I wouldn't say we knew each other. I mean, we never really talked. You were a jock and I was a nobody." Jock was not something I would have called myself. I only played a little football. A hood might have been a better description.

"I started using Anthony when I began my professional career. And the way I remember it, I once gave you a terribly embarrassing hickey. It's a little late, but I'm very sorry about that." She snickered at that. "I hope that event and our later encounter didn't scar you."

"Pffff, right. It is you. At least you remember that. No, you weren't the person who spun me off on the wrong path. It was probably my parents, according to my various shrinks. It took a long time, but I've made a course correction, and now here I am, working in a bookstore in small town California. I've always liked books, so this has become my convent where I stay out of trouble. You seemed to have done well."

"I'm comfortable."

"Sounds like you're rich."

"Not on the book, I assure you. Maybe I'll get a better deal on the second one."

"I'd like to hear more about your book and writing process. I'm trying my hand at writing. My big project is a memoir. I was very self-destructive during most of my life, so I have material. I dabble in fiction, and once I finish writing about my fucked up life, I would like to explore that too."

"I have someone thumbing through the book at my table, and better get back. Would you like to meet for coffee? I'd love to discuss writing with you further. It seems to be one of my favorite topics these days."

"I guess we could do that. I'm here until closing today, but I only need to open tomorrow. Would across the street, down at the corner, tomorrow at 12:30 work? I don't want to do it here. I'm sure you understand."

"Yeah. That would be great."

"Oh, and Anthony, I've had a really rough few years. Actually, that's an understatement; I've had a rough life, and men were a huge part of that. I'm not looking for a relationship. I know that's a bit presumptuous, but I want to be upfront about where I stand on relationships."

Her stern expression told me this was a serious pronouncement. I felt a chill, and couldn't help but think that this might be directed at me because of our history.

"That's fine, Tiana. Just a friendly conversation is perfect. Tell you what, I'll take the passenger seat, and you drive. You have my willing acceptance for whatever direction you'd like, so if you'd like to just chat over coffee, that's fine. However, if you'd like dinner or anything beyond coffee, just ask. Regardless, I won't come knocking at your door. I often visit here and pick up a book or two, and I might say hello, but that's it. If, on the other hand, we enjoy each other's company, I hope you won't hesitate to suggest another get-together. And yeah, I do have some money, so I'd be happy to buy you a meal on occasion just as friends if you'd like."

"Okay. I can work with that, thanks. Right now, I need to unpack a new book shipment."

My little speech had sounded awkward to my ears, but her expression had brightened. I guessed it was good enough. Besides, I wasn't looking for any complications either, and she seemed complicated.

"Anything good?" I asked.

"I'll let you know tomorrow."

<<<< -- >>>>

We hadn't counted on the fact that the coffee shop served good sandwiches and was running a lunch special. We found a couple of stools in a corner by the front window and tried to talk in the obnoxiously loud place. She was almost bubbly and much more friendly than yesterday in the bookstore. I guess she decided I wasn't a dubious guy after all. After some chit-chat, I was surprised when she said she had Sunday off and asked if I lived nearby. When I told her I was just a few miles outside of town, she asked if she could come by and said it would be the best way to talk without distractions, because she was really curious about what it took to become a bestselling author.

We exchanged phone numbers, I gave her my address, and she said she would come by after lunch. As I walked away from the corner café, I was a little confused by Tiana's abrupt change in attitude. Perhaps it was as she said, she just really wanted to discuss writing. Still, I was surprised by her so quickly inviting herself to my house after what she told me about her feelings toward men. It seemed that she decided to trust me, and she was right--I would keep my word about letting her dictate the terms of our relationship to a point. The point being, I would slow it down if she came onto me too strongly. I would need to know more about her "fucked up life" before things when to far. There were some paths best not travelled, and she might be one of them.

<<<< -- >>>>

She arrived at my place shortly after 1 PM wearing running shorts and a t-shirt. She did have nice legs. I felt a moment of guilt for assessing her like that, but even if the relationship was to be platonic, it didn't hurt to appreciate her appearance. It's hard for a guy not to.

Inviting her in, I asked, "You found the place alright?"

"Yeah. Nice fucking place. I was right; you're rich. How'd that happen if it wasn't the book? Your parents didn't have this kind of money back in Boulder. I know about where you lived. It wasn't that far from us. You were a good football player. I actually went to a game once and saw you play. Did that work out? Did you play pro football or something?"

"Oh, no. Bad knee. After spending a couple of years drifting around, somehow avoiding serious trouble, I attended college and earned a couple of degrees in geology. After starting a consulting company, I sold that and started a mineral exploration company with a friend. We got lucky and sold a large gold deposit to a major mining company. That was a chunk of cash and royalties. I still dabble in the business, but I've had time to write. That's me in a nutshell. Hey, so I have some munches on the back patio."

"That sounds nice."

On the way through the house, I showed her a few highlights, including the location of the restroom. It was a warm summer day, and I set up a couple of lounge chairs under the patio cover, out of the sun, and suggested we situate ourselves there.

We sat down, but then she said, "Your backyard is fucking gorgeous. I love your landscaping and the pool. Can you give me a tour?"

"Sure, there is not much more to see, really." We walked over to the edge of the pool. "All the landscaping is xeriscaping. This pool is the highlight, but the landscaped area is only a small part of what I own. The total property is 80 acres, most of which is the hill above us. So, about 70 or so acres of my backyard is wild hillside, and all this land gives me complete privacy. Because the adjoining land above is National Forest, even the top of the lot is private. The view from up there is fantastic."

"How do you get up there?"

"I've built a trail that runs up the hill. It's good exercise, and don't tell the Forest Service, it's faint, but my trail eventually connects to one of their official trails."

"Uh-huh. So... I'm guessing that with all this privacy, if I wanted to go for a swim, I wouldn't need a bikini, which is good because you didn't warn me that you had a pool."

"That would be completely up to you."

"Now that I've seen this, some scenes in your book give you away. You're a nudist."

"I guess I'm busted. I prefer naturist, but yeah, pretty much the only time I wear clothes around here is when I have guests, and even then, my guests are welcome to leave their clothes at the front door."

"Hey, if you want to get naked, it's your house. Don't mind me."

"I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Maybe I'd join you. A little skinny dipping and then lying naked in the sun sounds very appealing, so long as I'm still driving, as you put it."

"When are we going to talk about writing?"

"Eventually. We have all afternoon, don't we?"

"The entire rest of the day, if you want."

"Let's see, we have established you are a nudist--sorry, a naturist--and you made a point of telling me your hillside trail is completely private. It's easily deduced that you hike your trail naked, and probably you don't stop at your property boundary. That's correct, is it not?"

"Yes, you are correct."

"So, this is another thing we could do this afternoon."

"It is."

"So, this is where I admit that I'm now a wannabe nudist. I think it has to do with learning to respect and appreciate who I am. I mean, I've been nude in front of people before, but this would be for me, not them. So, how about we first go for a naked hike up your trail and get all sweaty, skinny dip, and dry off before we get intellectual? I was going to try to get a run in today, but a naked hike up that steep ass hill would work just as well--even better if done free of sweaty clothes. Would you be okay with that? I mean, us getting naked, nothing more. In no way would it be a prelude to sex."

"Yeah, that's fine. Naturism isn't about sex, and like I said, you're in charge. So, we should do the hike."

"Good. I needed to hear you agree to my rule once more. Let me run to my car and get my water bottle."

"You bet. Ice and water are in the fridge door. See you back here."

While she retrieved her water bottle, I filled mine, used the restroom, dropped my shirt and pants in the bedroom, and pulled on a pair of hiking shoes. I was excited about this development. Even if the relationship turned out to be completely platonic, having a good-looking woman with whom to spend some quality naturist time would be nice.

I wasn't disappointed when I returned to the backyard. There she stood by the pool, wearing only a yellow-billed hat like the one used by runners, sunglasses, and running shoes. She did have a wonderful body, a trim figure, a shapely bottom, and a few modest tattoos, which weren't distracting. I liked the design on the outside of her right thigh. When she turned around, the one disruption to an otherwise naturally fit figure was that she appeared to have had a boob job. They were not an unpleasantly large size or anything, but they seemed unnaturally firm. She had been relatively flat-chested when I saw her naked in her teens, and honestly, I'd preferred that. Nonetheless, the whole five-foot-sixish package, including her trim golden brown bush, was quite sexy. The one other thing I noticed was that she wasn't entirely new to this. She had a light tan with only faint tan lines. Clearly, despite her stated wannabe status, she had somewhere to go where she could get sun, swimsuit-free.

Once again, I chastised myself for assessing her this way when she said, "You have kept yourself in good shape. You are very sexy for someone our age. Actually, quite sexy for someone even 10 years younger."

"You too," was all I could think to say.

"Well, it hasn't been that way most of my life. Running and eating well are relatively new things for me. Not that I was ever fat. If anything, I was undernourished and working my way into an early grave. I've worked hard to regain my health, and now I feel good about myself."

"And that's part of your being an aspiring nudist?"

"Yep, it's definitely related to my newfound self-esteem, but I think there's something more to it. It's complicated."

"That should be another topic of discussion."

"Agreed. I'd like that. However, I also don't want skin cancer, so I'm going to need some sunscreen. All I had in the car is a small tube that would barely cover my tits."

"I'll run inside and grab a bottle. And if my opinion is worth anything, you've done a good job. You look great."

"Thanks. I appreciate that. You'll need to do my back."

Fuck. This was getting hard. When I got inside to the drawer with the sunscreen, I put my hands on the counter to catch my breath. She was making keeping my promise very difficult. I hoped that if she were driving, she would steer us in the direction that would eventually result in us being in bed together. Complications be damned. However, after collecting my thoughts, I convinced myself this was a naturist situation. We could just be naked platonic friends.

"I brought out two choices," I said, "Some SPF 30 lotion and SPF 8 tanning oil. I use the oil, already having a moderate tan. I found some without a heavy Coppertone fragrance. What one do you want?"

"Do you think I'd be okay with SPF 8?" she asked.

"Yeah. You'll be fine so long as we don't spend all afternoon in the sun."

I made a point of trying to just look across the pool we shared the bottle of SPF 8, even though I really wanted to watch her rub on the oil. I stole a couple of glances as she rubbed the glistening oil on her legs and once again cursed my developing attraction. When it came time, I efficiently applied the oil to her back, and then we headed to my trailhead.

As we were about to start, she said, "I've never done this before--I mean hike or run nude. I've sunned in the nude and been to nude beaches, but as far as being naked outside, that's it. Well, I guess I've skinny-dipped in the mountains once. This is exciting."

Thankfully, she followed me. I asked, "How hard do you want to go?" Following her pretty little ass up the hill would have been too much.

"Hard. This is replacing my run today."

"It's a steep hill."

"Good. I'll keep up."

The trail was steep enough that a near jog was the best I could do. I hoped it was fast enough for her. As many times as I had hiked my trail, if I were doing it nude, it never got old. Sweating felt good, not uncomfortable, and just being one with the animals and plants of the scrubland and occasional Ponderosa groves was invigorating. I had hiked my trail perhaps a hundred times and had only done it less than five clothed.

We were nearing the top of my 80 acres when I stopped for water and asked her, "How's the pace?"

"Good, you're pushing me," she said, taking another swig from her water bottle.

"How's the hike?"

"Fucking awesome. I'm loving every minute of this. Even compared to so-called breathable fabrics, this is so much better. Plus, it adds some extra spice to the hike. You're ruining my runs. I'll be wishing I were naked every time I run now. How much further can we go before we hit public land?"

"We are almost there, but we could go at least another mile. How much further do you want to go?"

"Does it keep climbing once you're off your land?"

"Yes, for a bit, then it flattens out."

"You said it was about a mile. Then what? Do you hit a busy trail?"

"Yeah, but you could stretch it to two. We hit a Forest Service trail pretty quickly--in about a quarter of a mile--but it's not a very popular one. It doesn't really go anywhere. There are only occasional people on it. You can go for almost two miles before the trail merges with a busy one.

"I'd like to go further, but should we have brought shorts and shirts to throw on just in case?"

"You'd just look silly trying to pull on your shorts. There is only a small chance we'd run into clothed hikers, and no one I've ever run into has seemed to care. And, a man and woman together would be even less concerning compared to a single naked man. Besides, we're not doing anything wrong so long as we're not being obscene about it."

"Obscene?" she asked.

"That we're not doing something sexual."

"Some people think that just being naked is sexual," she observed.

"Fortunately, the law rarely agrees with that, certainly not in this county."

"Okay. Let's go the distance. Fuck the clothed people. The thought of being seen just adds to the excitement. They'd probably just wish they'd had the courage to hike naked. This is the best. Thanks again."

"On the way back down, I have a spot where we can sit on a rock in the shade and just commune with nature while we rest and rehydrate a bit. I think you will like that too."

It was pretty much a run back down the hill, which was not great on my knees, but it kept my heart rate up. Once we landed in my backyard, I stood there catching my breath while Tiana magically ejected from her shoes and dived into the pool. I sat down, unlaced my hiking shoes, and waded into the shallow end, having apparently been out endured. After a minute of recovering in the cool water, Tiana swam over to me.

"Thanks again," she said. "That was wonderful. I confess. I was a tiny bit disappointed that we didn't run into anyone on the trail. Have you ever run into any other naked hikers?"

"Only once. We chatted a bit. They were from out of state. So, are you ready to get out, rehydrate, and talk writing?"

"Yeah. I suppose that's why I'm here. What do you have to drink?"

If we do alcoholic, I have margaritas mixed and ready to go; we can do them on the rocks, or I can get the blender out so we can make them frozen. If you prefer something else, there is lemonade and many other non-alcoholic concoctions, including plain old water."

"I don't drink much anymore. I shouldn't at all, but a margarita sounds terrific after that hike--just one and then lemonade. And if you're going to get us drinks, could you also grab my computer? I sat it on the chair near the front door."

"On the rocks or frozen, salt or no salt?"

"Frozen with salt. What service, I'm liking this spa."

"Then can I hear some of your memoir?"

"I thought I was ready to share some of it, but I'm not. It's very personal and quite torrid. I don't know if I'll ever be ready to share it honestly."

"That's all right. I understand how writing that kind of stuff down can be healing and just for you. But, if you believe it is good and can help others, you could always publish it under a pseudonym."

"I don't know if the public would be ready for some of the sex in it."

"Sure, they are. There are many examples of some pretty torrid stuff that have become bestsellers. There was Fifty Shades of Grey recently. Maybe more relevant, when we were kids, there was a book published called The Happy Hooker. I believe it was a memoir and a bestseller. My mom even had a copy. Of course, I had to go through it to find the dirty parts. One scene has stuck with me all this time. She got her German Shephard to screw her--doggy style, obviously. Can you top that?" Fuck, did I just suggest Tiana might have been a hooker?

"I'm not saying," she said, brushing over my comparison.

"Well. You'll share it when and if you are ready. Do you have anything else you have written which you are comfortable sharing, any short stories?"

"I'm afraid most of my best stuff is still pretty erotic. I publish it on Literotica. You know that site?" she asked.

"Hmm, yeah, I have a few stories there myself," I admitted. This was treading on dangerous ground. Everything I had posted on that site under a pen name was more than just erotic; almost all of it was kinky, to say the least. Sharing it with a woman I didn't know that well would be a bit uncomfortable.

"Perhaps we can share some of those stories. How are you with kinky stuff?" she asked as if reading my mind.

"Well... you'll have to read one of my stories to find out. How kinky do you want it?" Okay, given what she just said about her memoir, it seemed unlikely that I could shock her.

"I assure you, nothing you could write would be too much for me."

"That sounds like a challenge," I said. "What about bondage and domination?"

"Man or woman dom?" she asked.

"Woman."

"That's one of my favorite topics. I have a couple of those, so would you like to share one of them?"

"Sure," I said, agreeing but still not completely comfortable with the idea.

"Pick out a good one," she said. "The more deprived, the better."

We pulled up Literotica on our computers, and she directed me to her story, and I got her to mine. For some reason, she turned her lounge chair 180 degrees so she was next to and facing me.

When I gave her a quizzical look, she said, "This is just better for talking when we want to share our thoughts. Let's read."

I got started on her story. The first chapter set the scene and established the characters well. The female protagonist seemed to resemble Tiana, and I was curious.

"When did you write this?" I asked.

"Just about a year ago. Since I swore off men, writing this stuff is the main way I satisfy my itch."

"It's good so far," I said

"So is yours. The guy seems very sexy."

Now I had a vision stuck in my brain that the woman was Tiana. When I reached the second chapter, it quickly became intense, very erotic, and engaging, playing right into one of my recurring fantasies. I said, "I don't think I can read this."

"That bad?" she asked.

"No, that good."

"Too kinky then?"

"No, I enjoy this stuff."

"What then?" she asked.

"Well, I don't know what I was thinking. Sitting here nude, next to a beautiful woman, reading porn she wrote, I'm on the verge of a raging hard-on. That seems counter to what you want out of our relationship."

"Just because you get a hard-on does not mean we are automatically going to end up fucking, not if you can control yourself. Surely, you can. I hope you can because I want you to read my story."

"Well, yeah. I can keep myself from jumping you, but probably not from jacking off."

"I've seen a lot of hard dicks, and I've seen guys cum plenty of times. We'll be fine if you stay on your chair and I stay on mine. Can you do that?"

"Sure. If you're okay with my playing with myself, I won't move from this spot."

"Good, because your story is excellent, and it'll have me playing with my pussy any minute now. I'm sure I'm pretty damn wet already. Uh-ha, it appears that my giving you permission and a little dirty talk did the trick."

She was right, my cock had grown rock-hard. I wanted to stroke it right then. She had given me permission, but I contented myself with reading. After a few more paragraphs, it was unbearable, and I looked up from the laptop to see her fingering her pussy. My looking up caused her to look up, and she said, "Try not to cum until the end of the story."

"That's going to be difficult," I said. "You write a very sexy story."

"Try. Your story is also making it very hard for me, especially because your gal here seems quite capable of multiples."

The only saving grace was that I had started later, being a bit more self-conscious. Once my hand touched my cock, however, I was gone. I hoped she was watching; I was certainly keeping an eye on what she was doing. Both of us were having a challenge balancing our laptops, advancing the text, and masturbating. As good as her story was--the guy was begging to eat her pussy, something I could relate to at that moment--I wanted to put the computer down and just jack off. However, she was still reading my story and appeared to be thoroughly enjoying it. She was not holding back, alternating between running two fingers into her hole, then pulling the wetness up to her clit, and rubbing her swollen button vigorously.

I tried to make it look like I was reading while I focused on my cock, trying to keep myself from cuming. Long slow strokes were working, but still, an orgasm was close, so I played with my balls for a bit and then played with just the tip of my cock. After a minute of controlled cock play, I tapped my rising orgasm down. She was still reading but rubbing her clit in rapid circles with two fingers. She was squirming and breathing hard. At that sight, I forced myself back to reading--I had almost gone over the edge again.

I got sucked into a scene and slowed my stroking while I marveled at Tiana's imagination. Then I heard her say, "Don't fucking cum yet." The way she said it, it was unclear if she was telling herself not to cum or me.

"What," I said.

Like she was in pain, she said, "Don't you cum yet." Then the laptop fell on the lounge between her legs, and she was frantically rubbing her clit. She began jerking and saying, "Oh, fuck--fuck, fuck, OH FUCK." She lifted her butt off the chair, every muscle in her body seemed to contract, and then after what seemed like a remarkably long orgasm, she collapsed. It was a hell of a show, and if I hadn't stopped stroking my cock, I would have cum too. And, if I hadn't been reading a femdom story and Tiana hadn't told me, 'Don't fucking cum' in a very femdom-like way, I wouldn't have stopped stroking my way to an orgasm. It was an amazing feat of discipline, but it was one I had learned from a previous relationship.

I did say, "That was a heck of an orgasm," as I began to slowly masturbate again.

"Your story was really fucking good, and it's been a few days since I've gotten off. Plus, having you here, the author of that story, added to the excitement. I'm afraid I didn't finish. I'm sorry, I broke my own rule. You seemed to have held up your end of the bargain."

"Just barely."

"Are you almost finished with the story?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. I think she is about to let him fuck her. She just laid down on a bench."

"You have a few pages to go. It's hard to jerk off while you read on the computer."

"Yeah, it is."

"Let me help you."

"You're going to run the computer for me?"

"No. I'm going to jerk you off while you read. That way, we can ensure you reach the end of the story and not fail, like I did. I'm good at giving handjobs. I had a lot of practice once upon a time."

Apparently, it was true about the massage parlor.

"You okay with that?" she asked.

"Yes, of course," I stammered.

She moved down to the foot of her lounge chair and reached across, and grabbed a hold of my cock.

"You tell me when Jacque is about to cum in the story."

There was no way this was going to work. I almost came when she touched me, but she did know her stuff. I read, and she had a light touch that kept me on edge. I don't know how, but it was like she knew my tells--the signs for when I was approaching orgasm. She stroked when I could be stroked; otherwise, she would run a finger or fingers lightly over my cock and balls. She knew the sensitive spots. A couple of times, I thought she was going to give me a ruined orgasm, but she encouraged me to hold it back, and I did. Admittedly, I was speed-reading, but she quizzed me about what I had just read a couple of times so that I couldn't skip too much. I don't know if this could have happened if I hadn't been reading an incredible story about Nadine dominating Jacque. I was in the mood to do as I was told.

Finally, I could say, "Jacque is begging Mistress Nadine to let him cum, and she said he can so long as he eats his cum."

"Okay, put the computer down."

I did as she said, and she stroked my cock the entire length at a maddeningly slow pace.

I was pumping my pelvis up and down, but she said, "Stop that. Let me do the work. I want you just to work at holding your cum back."

Fuck, this was like football practice or something. The orgasm built to the point where there was no stopping it. I felt like I was going to burst, but with her saying, "Not yet, please not yet," I held back, at least for a few more strokes. She knew I had lost it, and with both hands, she stroked my cock just so, and with a spasm causing me to moan as I had never before, my first ejaculation hit my forehead. The muscles in my legs were fully contracted, and my legs were sticking straight out as the following two ejaculations shot more viscous gobs onto my chest and belly. The cum just kept pumping out, and the reservoir seemed to go dry, but I still ejaculated a couple more times. This girl had an amazing skill--never had I cum like that.

"Wow," she said. "When's the last time you had sex?"

"Fuck... just a second." She was pushing the cum around my belly and chest with her finger. Finally, I was able to say, "Real sex--It's been a dry spell, but I jacked off last week, which admittedly was a long time ago for me. I've been less stressed, so I'm less in need."

She took a large scoop of cum with two fingers and made a show of licking her fingers clean.

"I like the way your cum tastes." She scooped up some more, and I thought she was going for a second helping, but instead, she put her fingers to my mouth.

"Here taste." I opened my mouth and sucked the cum off her fingers.

"Have you ever done that before?"

"Actually, yes. I've had a couple of very kinky girlfriends. Where do you think I get all that stuff for my stories?"

"Of course. Same here. Now that I know who you are on Literotica, I'm going to read all your stories and see how much of a submissive you are. Or at least, find out what kind of pervert you are."

"Well, that's a two-way street." She was on her third scoop of my cum, and I had to say, "That's hardly fair. You've tasted me."

"No problem there, you've kept my juices flowing." She reached between her legs and brought her wet fingers to my mouth. That about made me hard again.

"That good enough?"

"Not really. I'd rather have my face soaked and lapping up your wetness with my tongue."

"Mmm... maybe this has gone too far. I'm sorry. This is just a little friendly sex. You promised."

"Yeah, right, it's okay. You warned me. I'll take what I can get, but tell me this. Are you really that much of a femdom?"

"You'll need to read more to find out. Maybe, maybe not, but what we just did was an anomaly. I really am trying to avoid getting entangled with men. For the record, however, I'm not into women either. They can be their own kind of abusive. It's more like I'm a nun. A nun who isn't religious and masturbates a lot. Hell, maybe most of them masturbate a lot."

"Okay, I want you to know I'm safe, and if this is a one-time thing, that's okay. I enjoy your company, and next time, we can discuss things that aren't on Literotica."

"Yeah. Okay. Perhaps. Right now, I'd better go."

"I should have asked earlier. What happened to your sister? Like you, I never saw her again after the night of the drunken party at our apartment."

"It was probably not long after that she got pregnant. I was surprised when they got married and had a second kid a couple of years later. And they stayed married until their kids graduated high school. It probably helped that they had a somewhat open marriage. But then she got married and divorced a second time, and things have since gone sideways for her. Madelyn had--has--a voracious sexual appetite, but she somehow managed to stay out of trouble, unlike me."

"You ever see her?"

"Not often. She lives in Texas but is coming to visit in a few weeks. Maybe I'll bring her by. You owe her."

"Huh?"

"That night, you promised to fuck her, but you reneged. She was quite upset. Come to think of it, you probably owe me, too. Madelyn had persuaded me that I needed to lose my virginity that night. It was a big decision, and you ruined the plan. Plus, you gave me that damn hickey in junior high."

"Sorry. You were still a virgin that night at the apartment?"

"Don't be so surprised."

"It's just Madelyn, was..." I paused, trying to find the right words.

"A slut," said Tiana for me.

"Yeah. That's what people said, anyhow."

"It was true, but she tried to see that I made it through high school without dealing with the same things she did. There was some guilt by association. It's all in the memoir."

"Well, I'm sorry I screwed up your guys' plan. It was the fault of too much booze. That and my inexperience. Were you really that disappointed?"

"Yes and no. I waited a bit longer after that, but in retrospect, it still happened too young. Again, that's all in my memoir."

"Am I in there?"

"I'm not telling."

"Was Madelyn that upset, or was she just that drunk?"

"Oh, she was quite upset. She had planned that evening for quite a while. Went through all the effort to get us condoms and everything. By the time she got you into bed, I'm sure she had forgotten all about the rubber, so you may have been lucky not to have screwed her."

"Once upon a time--I'm not saying when or with whom--I had my own issue with the lack of protection. It's in the memoir I have not written yet. Anyhow, I'm sorry I upset her."

"Yeah, okay. I certainly can't absolve you for your debt to her."

"How do you suggest I repay the debt?"

"If I bring her by, maybe the chance to sunbathe in the nude will be enough to pay off the debt, maybe not. Is it alright if I bring her by? Who knows, if you're lucky, she will make you her submissive."

"I know I have written a fair bit about BDSM, and much of it is from first-hand experience. I'll also admit that I still fantasize about it. However, I'm not into being a sub anymore. With the right person, maybe the light version, but not hardcore ever again. Not with a true dominatrix."

"Why is that?"

"A fantastic experience which turned very bad. A woman, Alexis, had me so under her control that it almost ended my career and, along with that, my company. What you read tonight is a somewhat fictionalized version of our first session. It was the first time I had ever been dominated like that. Our relationship was exciting and all-consuming for about six months, but it was like a highly addictive drug. Once I broke the addiction, I've had to resist backsliding and going to that space again. I don't think it could happen again, but I need to be careful. It's terrible knowing I could lose myself like that. I think you may know what I'm talking about."

"Thanks for telling me. I promise I won't let Madelyn get her hooks into you. Is it still okay if I bring her by?"

"Yeah, sure. Just give me a little advance warning so I'm sure to be here. And what about you? Is my debt forgiven?"

"I haven't decided. It's a little late to take my virginity. I'm kidding. Today was fantastic. The nude hike alone paid off the debt; the interest on the debt was paid when you let me make you cum like that. That was crazy fucking fun. I still love doing that after all these years. But..."

"Yeah, I know," I said. "It was just for fun."

"You got it. I really should go. Is it okay if I take a quick dip first? And thanks again for sharing the story behind the story. You took a little of the shine off of it, but at the time, I enjoyed the erotica. It made me fucking horny, as you saw."

"Yeah, same here. I don't want to get involved in another BDSM relationship, but I still like reading about them. And yeah, they make me fucking horny, as you say. It was also well written."

She collected her computer and other things while I watched. Somehow, she seemed even sexier now. When she dove into the pool, I forced myself to get up and go to my bathroom to clean up. She had done a pretty good job, but I still had a thin film of drying cum over much of my torso. Especially after she had been pushing it around with her fingers.

When I emerged from the bathroom, she was just leaving through the front door, and I said, "Good night."

She stopped and said, "I should apologize to you. I may have misled you; I'm unsure how I feel about what we did. The masturbation part might have been okay, but after that, I think I crossed a line."

"It's okay; you didn't cross any lines with me. I'm okay with the sex between friends thing."

"No, it's not you. I might have crossed my line, actually. I shouldn't have given you a handjob, and I shouldn't have had any alcohol. Both were backsliding. For three years now, I've been working to avoid the things that got me into trouble. I went backwards tonight."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a bad influence."

"You weren't. It's confusing. Perhaps it wasn't all bad because I felt safe enough with you to have some fun. After three years, if I can have some fun and keep it controlled, maybe that's a good thing. I've tried so hard to be abstinent, not to let sex drive my relationships, but something has been missing, and I don't think I've been any happier despite feeling better--healthier. If nothing else, the naked-in-nature thing gave me a rush of good feelings, and that is something I want to explore further. However, I need to think through the rest of today. If this is just friendship, maybe it's okay, or maybe I'm backsliding--reverting to something I don't want to be."

"I stand by what I have said, and I'd value your friendship and will follow your lead. If you want to lay down some rules for me to help keep you on your path, we can do that, too. I'll help you not to backslide."

"I need to figure some things out, but we'll talk again soon. Good night."

With that, she was off to her car. Somehow, her "we'll talk again soon" seemed uncertain.

For weeks after that, I didn't hear from her, and I resisted making an appearance at the bookstore. I did start reading her many stories on Literotica. Apparently, she had spent much more time than she fessed up to writing erotica during he abstinence. Scanning through the titles and tags, they were more varied than I expected. She did have more BDSM stories, but they were not always female doms. She had a female sub, a lesbian thing, and some other combos. Outside of that, she touched on several other erotic topics, including one based around making a porno film, which made me even more curious about her memoir. How many of the Literotica stories would be in the memoir, I had to wonder.

Looking at my collection of works from her perspective, I only had a couple of straight-up femdom stories. But if I were honest, most of my stories had a scene or scenes with sexually dominant women. I would come off as wanting to be a submissive. I had fallen back into the submissive role when Tiana took control of jacking me off and commanding my obedience, but with her, it had seemed safe. However, if she didn't like abusive men, perhaps she enjoyed dominating them. I needed to be careful. Perhaps it was best if she only wanted a platonic relationship; I could live with that.

The one thing that was working against me, however, was that she was a reformed bad girl. I had always been a sucker for bad girls. They weren't safe and usually not boring, but those relationships also never lasted. It was the strong but boring ones that had lasted. The fact that she has had the strength to change her life added to her allure. It was like she was a combination of the two.

Her strength to reform did cause me to admire her, as someone I wanted to know and with whom I could just be friends. Another truth was that I needed more friends. I had only lived in this town for about a year and had been on the road so much that I had a near-zero social network. I was working hard on another book, and there was little chance I would expand my friend network anytime soon.

Given my current workload and social situation, what could be better than having a good-looking woman who enjoys hiking naked as a friend? I certainly didn't need a girlfriend who would take up a lot of my time and distract me from my writing. Hopefully, Tiana and I would get together again soon. Perhaps when her sister visits, I'll hear from her. She seemed fairly certain Madelyn would want to see me--my place--but I suppose Madelyn might have her own thoughts on that given our history. At least Tiana might give me a good review.

This story ties back to another story titled Anthony's Submission. It explains some of why Tony has a fear of being dominated, while at the same time being drawn to dominating women. This storyline will be further developed in a yet-to-be-written sequel to Anthony's Submission. Be forewarned, however, that Anthony's Submission is hardcore BDSM.