Drunk In Love: The Complete Series: BBW BDSM Erotica Read Online Free Page B

even possible. Huffing and puffing with our juices flowing everywhere, I felt like I was floating in some cloud.
    I was glad things didn’t work out with Brent, and to hell with Trevor; I had a real man now, and his name was Kyle.

****
    T he sun shining in my face woke me up. The beating of Kyle’s heart was in my ear, and opening my eyes, I saw our naked legs intertwined in the sheets.
    It was glorious pain as my head was spinning, and my thighs ached as if I worked out jogging for miles. Instead, I’d ridden a dick like a bicycle last night. Thinking of it made my clit twitch.
    Kyle’s hand stroking my hair let me know he was awake.
    “Hey, you,” he said as I picked up my head, looking into his eyes. His charcoal-colored eyes and his alabaster teeth glimmered at me. It took me a moment to remember where I was or how I got here. The silk ties hanging from the headboard brought it back into focus.
    Wow, it wasn’t a dream. I had a vivid imagination, but even I couldn’t have dreamt the occurrences of last night.
    “That was amazing.” Kyle took the words out of my mouth. I smiled, recollecting the many orgasms I’d endured. Even if I were completely sober, I wouldn’t have been able to keep track of all the times and ways he pushed me to cum.
    “I’m not a fat bitch, you know,” I told him, sitting up and pulling the sheets around me. He didn’t register what I was saying for a moment. I saw his mind trying to figure out what I was talking about.
    “Oh, that... I was just trying to motivate you.”
    Was this some type of sexual reverse psychology? He further explained, seeing the confusion on my face:
    “I wasn’t trying to insult you,” he said. “I just wanted to make you mad enough to take out your aggression on me. Sometimes I like playing the submissive.”
    Playing? Was this a game to him? What was Kyle talking about?
    “As opposed to what? What’s usually your role?”
    This guy was mysterious. His face took on this cryptic, devious smile. Last night, I didn’t get a chance to fully investigate him. This was the first time I’d done something like this: a full-fledged one-night stand, and I picked him.
    Looking past Kyle to the bed post, I saw a remnant of the night before. The silk neckties were still dangling from around the wood. It was erotic seeing him tied up and helpless—riding him into submission and then him forcing me to untie him so he could take over.
    “You see, I’m always in charge.” He might as well have been speaking a different language. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I liked it.
    “What you did to me last night—what you allowed me to do to you—I loved it,” I told him. I remembered the squirming of his body and how I’d commanded it; how he’d nursed me to an orgasm that I never thought was possible. My legs were still sore from the trauma of cumming multiple times.
    Kyle looked over me with a grin, not saying a word. As he looked down into my eyes, I felt like a deer in headlights.
    “If you want that power, you can have it.” He said it like it was as simple as me grabbing someone off the street. My confusion must have worn on my face. He laughed and rubbed my forehead, dissolving the furrowed brow I was forming.
    “I didn’t choose you just because I think you’re beautiful.” I blushed at his words. “I chose you because I thought you needed it.”
    Now that was even more confusing.
    “What?”
    “A BDSM lifestyle is about taking control and relinquishing it. Your life seems out of control. I want you to take it back.”
    I waited for a smile to cross his face, or a set of balloons and cameras to come from under the bed and tell me I had been Punk’d. Nothing like that happened.
    He handed me a card from his nightstand. A business card, of all things, and who knew that there was a title to what he was saying?
    Kyle Turner
    Dominatrix Trainer
    Who knew this was a profession?
    “What the hell is this?” I questioned him.
    “I’m a