Julanni's Cozy Little Space

Once again, I have written a piece that doesn't include bondage.  What's wrong with me?

Lana

©2021 Julanni O

The very first time we met it was clear that Lana was drawn to me.  It was a chance meeting in a coffee shop and she instantly struck up a conversation as we waited to be served, and we exchanged first names.  She ordered a caramel macchiato and a coffee cake muffin.   Then I ordered a vanilla macchiato and a pistachio muffin.  She was quick to speak up about how similar our tastes seemed to be.  It was clear to me she was trying to manufacture connections between us, wanting to orchestrate us getting close.  -And quickly.

We parted with, “Nice to have met you,” type greetings and each drove off toward our respective jobs.

At work, my mind wandered to her a few times, and I became intrigued.  I wanted to know more about her, maybe find out why she was so interested in me.

That was Thursday, and next morning, Friday, I was at the coffee shop early and ordered my usual as well as what Lana had ordered the day before.  I sat at one of the little tables outside and waited.

She parked, got out of her car and walked toward the entrance, then caught sight of me.  Her face lit up like a birthday cake.  Then she saw I had set her coffee and muffin at the side of the table nearest to her.  She beamed delightedly.  We said our hellos as she took her seat, thanking me, and I noticed her makeup was a little different.  I thought she looked good the morning before, but this time she was a little more refined.

We sipped our coffees and took bites of our muffins as we took turns in our verbal exchange.  We were each feeling each other out, asking questions, learning what we could about each other in the ten or so minutes we had before our schedules forced us apart again.  At the end of that conversation, we were both looking forward to taking this further.   Before she said goodbye, she handed me an invitation.

“Can you be there tonight?”

“I don’t see why not,” I answered.

“Dress nice.”

“Nice?”

“Semi-formal.  You’ve got something like that, don’t you?”

“I can make something work.”

“Then I’ll see you tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I smiled.

At home, after work, I jumped into the shower.   After that, I laid out my clothes.   I started by lacing up a waist cincher with six garter straps.  But not too tightly; I didn’t want it to be too obvious.  Actually, I put on the corset in good faith.  Sure, I wanted to look stunning at the party, but I was also planning to take Lana home if we ended up matching well enough.

I wore seamed stockings and attached the garter straps, then pulled on a matching lacy bra and pantie set beneath my cobalt blue evening dress with one bare shoulder.   Matching blue stiletto high heels finished the set, along with a string of faux pearls with matching earrings and appropriate makeup.  I grabbed the small clutch that matched the dress and loaded it with my ID, a small amount of cash, the invitation, my bank card and car keys.  I glanced at the clock, impressed with my better than average timing.

The big guy at the door looked at me suspiciously.  I showed him my ID and my invitation.  He asked me where I got it.  I told him Lana invited me.  His right eyebrow raised and he smirked, then grinned at me and opened the door, allowing me entry, bidding me, “Have fun, if you can handle her.”

It took a couple minutes of smiling at well-dressed strangers before I spotted Lana.  Her makeup was perfect not looking like she tried too hard.  The big gold hoop earrings were a lovely touch.  For a brief moment, I imagined a matching gold ring in her septum, and me clipping a leash to it.  But that idea was way, way ahead of where we were at that moment in time.

She was wearing a black, sleeveless minidress with a daringly open boob window that showcased all her cleavage and the skin of her chest from the bottom of the dress’s faux turtleneck down to her exposed navel.   Was she dressed to party or was she dressed to play?  She was certainly, at least, dressed to tease.  Was she intending to tease me?  By the way she grinned and got excited when she saw me, I would wager that to be the case.  But I would first have to determine if she would be willing to play my game with me instead of hers.  So, I asked her to show me to the bar.

We talked and flirted with one another for the better part of an hour while I plied her with drinks to loosen her tongue.  I didn’t want her drunk, just relaxed enough to agree to trying a little kink, and she was drinking slowly while opening up to me, which worked well in my favor.  In the meantime, I was imbibing ginger ale.  Seeing as I was hoping to dominate that night, I would need to keep a clear head.

As we talked, it was increasingly clear that she wanted my attention, and mine only.  It didn’t take long before all doubt was dispelled as to her intentions.   She was horny, and she was hoping I would spend the evening helping her enjoy that arousal.  She was also nervous about broaching the subject, but the alcohol was helping her in that regard.  Only half way through her second gin and tonic, she complimented me on my string of pearls.  I thanked her for the compliment and she told me she was also wearing pearls, but in a different place.  Her happy eyes glinted playfully.

I looked at her excited expression, my smile broadening and my eyes falling to the pearl-like little beads of the pin at the top of her boob window where the two pieces of barely concealing material came together to meet the faux turtleneck of her dress.

“No, not there,” she laughed, hiding her nerves.

“Somewhere hidden?” I asked, happily playing along.

“You want me to show you where?” she taunted.

“I guess this means we both like playing games.   Okay, Lana, show me.”

Her hand was shaking with nervous tension as she took hold of my hand.  She pressed my fingers against her crotch, where I felt a vertical line of little bumps beneath the fabric of her very short dress.  Her message was as impossible to ignore as a lightning strike.

I was not unfamiliar with this erotic type of lingerie, designed to tease the wearer as well as the viewer.  A string of beads or, in this case, faux pearls substituted for a crotch panel, covering practically nothing while teasing with their animated texture as they rubbed against labia and, hopefully, clitoris.

I held my hand against her where she had placed it, and stepped slightly away from the bar, but closer to this brazen woman, turning her so her back was against the bar, trapping her between me and it.  My hand pressed against her hidden pearls ever so slightly more than before.  I looked seriously at her; my smile much smaller but not entirely gone.  “Lana,” I demanded.  “Listen to me closely.”

Her eyes widened a bit as her smile also disappeared.   What had she gotten herself into?

“You put my hand here, didn’t you?”  It was more a demand for confirmation.

“Yes?”  She was unsure of where this was leading.

“That means you want my hand here.”

Her eyes looked worried, but she bit her lower lip, slowly pulling it from the grip of her teeth.  She nodded demurely.

I knew then that I had her.  I pressed for control.  “That’s okay, because my hand wants to be here.  But my hand is not happy having your dress keeping it from feeling what we both want it to feel.”

Her half-bared breasts rose and fell as her breathing quickened.  She seemed for a moment to be in a daze, but suddenly realized what I was desiring of her.   Her hand suddenly grabbed at the black cloth upon her abdomen, just above my pressing hand, and jerked it up just far enough to let my fingers and palm connect with her skin.  Her hem now rested against the inside of my wrist.

The pearls had apparently done their job.  She was soaking wet, and I knew that the pearls were only part of the reason.  Almost instantly, I curled my middle and ring fingers upward, those fingertips plunging into her slick vaginal opening and pulling forward toward my palm to grip her much like a bowling ball, pressing her pearls hard into her mons.  Her mouth fell open in a gasp as her knees buckled.

“You like this, don’t you?” I smiled, sweetly.

“I…  Yes,” she stammered, panting as her hips squirmed against my hand.

“You want to play some more?”

“I do, yes.”

“That’s yes MISS!”  I spoke the words softly, but it was no less a demand.

“Y…  Yes, Miss,” she stammered, more nervous than before.

She was mine.  I grinned my victory.  “Do you want to keep playing here where everyone can watch us?  Or do you want to come with me to my house?”

“I…  Um…”

“I promise to give you everything you want and more, Lana.   I can show you that you can have a bigger, better orgasm than you knew could even be possible.”

She stared at me in a daze.  Clearly, she was not accustomed to being dominated.  But her hips continued squirming, grinding her groin against my hand.  Was the part of her that was enjoying this stronger than the part of her asking what the hell she’s doing?

“Lana, do you want to come home with me?”

“Um, yes, let’s go.”  But she stood there, pinned by my hand’s control of her sex.

“I told you that’s not how you answer me.  You say, ‘Yes, Miss.’”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Good girl.  I want you to get used to that.  Say it again.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Good girl.  Very good girl.  Now we have a little problem before we go.  I’m holding my purse in one hand, while my other hand is holding you.”  I wiggled my fingers inside her for emphasis and her knees buckled again as her jaw dropped a second time with her second gasp.  I continued, “So, because both my hands are busy, I need you to reach into your purse and pull out a few dollars to leave as a tip for the bartender.”  I smiled confidently at her, watching her recover from the sudden surge of pleasure I had just gifted to her.

Lana caught her breath, blinked a couple times, then looked down at her purse as she opened it, fished out a couple of bills and closed the purse with one hand while turning slightly and dropping the money on the bar.  Then she looked back at me.

“Be happy,” I told her.  “I’ll make certain you have a good time.”

She smiled again, trusting me.

“Good girl,” I smiled back.  “Are we ready to go to my place?”

“Yes, Miss,” she smiled a little more.

I gently pulled my fingers out of her and took my hand away, letting the hem of her dress fall back into place.  I looked at my hand.  “Looks like my fingers need to be cleaned.”  I looked back up at her.  “I would love it if you cleaned them for me.  Would you like to do that?”

“Yes, Miss.”  Her smiled broadened.

I lifted my hand toward her face and she readily opened her mouth.  I put those two fingers in and her lips closed over the base of them.  While her lips held them, her tongue swirled around them, working to lick away all the juices left behind from her soaking groin.   She closed her eyes as her tongue did its job.  Her hands reached out to take hold of me, but then, she thought better of it and simply kept them at her sides, not sure of what to do with them.  Being dominated was apparently new to her, but she seemed to be amenable to learning from me.

After allowing her to suck on my fingers for about ten or twelve seconds, I pulled my hand away, smiling.  “Good girl.”

“Thank you, Miss,” she grinned.

“Am I to assume you’re not new to cleaning fingers?”

“Yes, Miss, but usually they’re my own.”

“Well, nice job for a beginner.”

“Thank you, Miss.”

I reached down to her abdomen, my thumb and forefinger pressing lightly at the black material on either side of her pussy pearls, then gripping them through the cloth.  “Are we ready to go?”

She was grinning again, her eyes twinkling with delight.  “Yes, Miss.”

I tugged lightly.  She followed readily.  I was already planning what I would do with her once I got her home.  One thing I was certain of, she would stay until morning.   My ropes wouldn’t give her any other choice.