Submit to Me

17 - Aaron *

I think I'm getting somewhere with Sloane. At least, I hope I was, because when I suggested she come to the club with me, I expected her to argue and tell me no.

When she said she'd be interested in seeing where I enjoy hanging out, the excitement that coursed through me was electrifying. All because I was curious to see how she'd react to this open lifestyle.

Other than trying to hide from Rocky, Sloane did an amazing job of allowing herself to be seen and heard—somewhat.

She spoke a little to Rocky.

And she allowed her emotions of how she felt to be heard—only I had to quiet her before we got kicked out of the voyeur area.

Yes, it's the voyeur area, and people pleasure themselves and their partners, but you're also supposed to restrain yourself by remaining quiet.

I'll have to work with Sloane on how to control herself in public, especially since excitement during sex is new to her. As for the bedroom? She can make all the fucking noises her little heart desires.

I can't believe her husband was like that with her. I'd hate to tell her this since she's still mourning the loss of him, but what a buffoon he was.

I'd call him a loser, or better, an inconsiderate prick, but that would be uncalled for because of the circumstances of where he is now.

Seeing Sloane orgasm for the first time and knowing it was her first time to experience that earth-shattering feeling was enrapting. Getting to taste her arousal was riveting—she tasted as wonderful as I always imagined she would.

It still pisses me off it took twenty years to taste her, something I always had hoped to sample when we were in the ninth grade. I wanted her to be my first, and I wanted me to be her first.

Obviously, it didn't work that way, but that's okay. She's here with me now, in my room, on my bed, about to have the best sex she's ever had.

In a way, I'm her first with Sloane experiencing what a fucking orgasm is. And I'm ecstatic that I was.

Now, after a month of being celibate, after trying to figure out my life and what I want out of it, and looking out for my future, the girl I once loved, hated, despised, and now back to head over heels for is lying on my bed, her hair fanned out beautifully, naked, and ready for me to excite.

As I undressed before her eyes, I noticed the look on her face.

She looks worried, as if I'm going to judge her body.

Nervous about what's about to happen between us.

And timid, like she won't be the kind of girl in bed I'm used to being with.

Everything she doesn't have to be around me.

However, there's a look of excitement in her eyes as well.

Leaving my boxers on, I climbed on the bed, hovered over and gazed into her frightened yet excited eyes, and softly ran my hand down the side of her face.

"You're beautiful, Sloane. So fucking heavenly and as pretty as a picture."

"No—" she started to say before hushing her with my finger.

"Shh. I don't want to hear you say anything you're not. Please get that out of your mind. Never do I ever want to hear you say anything negative about yourself. Got it?"

She eyed me for a moment, then nodded.

"Good girl," I praised soothingly, releasing my finger from her mouth.

Looking at the scars keeping her from thinking she was beautiful, I slid my finger along them, starting from the top of her forehead.

"These scars don't need to keep you from thinking you're not this gorgeous woman I look at you as. They're a part of you now, and I don't give a fuck about them. You shouldn't either. Like I told you yesterday, you need to learn to love them. I know it'll be hard to do, but eventually, these will be nothing to you."