Their Tale

Your words as mine

"His control, it fuels me. I am his submissive, I just don't know if I can be my own dominant. Give myself control." Celeste's hands fiddle around in this change of thought and conversation.

I wish I could say I knew what she meant, but I don't because I have always had control. She needs to know she has it in her, that she has a voice that can and will be listened to because when she speaks, I listen. Not her submissive but as the person who kneels just as she does.

"Use your words, on me. Speak for me." Her eyebrows scrunch in confusion, "What?" She needs to know she can use her voice, hold it and be heard, "Use your words and control me." Shaking her head, she steps back, "I would follow your heart to the end of the earth, trust that your words carry the same importance because they do." My body stays still, waiting for her to gather herself when with a small voice she speaks. "Lay back down." I do as she says and lay down, the material she had laid on my bare body falling back into place.

"Close your eyes." I take in the last image of her picking up the palate in shaky hands before closing my eyes as instructed, "Lower your leg off the couch." Slowly, my leg falls, and the material falls between my open thighs. She is quiet for a few seconds while the sound of the brush fills the silence when she speaks again, "Trail your right hand down your waist, stop above your stomach."

My body does not think and follows her, my fingers teasing my skin when I stop where she instructed, "Lower." There is a shake in my breath, before I follow down lower, my fingers trailing above her bundled material, Once again, the sound of the brush, then her words, "Brush the material away slowly."

Her instructions and words gained confidence through every motion she asked me to follow. The material falls over my fallen leg with my hand so close to the centre of me, "With your index, brush against yourself slowly." Doing as she asked my finger brushes my clit, and a shaky moan leaves my throat, "Again, don't stop and don't change pace."

Slowly my finger pleasures me as I fight not to move, the teasing as I grow wet from her. Knowing she was using her words, confidence and art to bring this out of me, "Raise your other hand to your hair." I do so, "Go faster." I can't stop my back from arching at the pleasure while I moaned in expression of it. Celeste gives me pleasure with my body, and she falls silent, letting me enjoy my fingers working my clit. "Push a finger in." She gently demands of me. Biting my bottom lip, my finger starts to work me, eyes clenching shut in pleasure as my finger gets lost in motion, "Another."

She lets me experience this pleasure, no words from me because here she was finding hers and, in the words, I was finding my climax, "Deeper, and don't cum yet, I'm almost done." She was painting this erotic moment, and all I wanted to do was ask her to let me cum, as long as her name would be sound my moans waled.

My body shakes with a need to climax, but I don't ask, I wait for her words, "Open your eyes." I do so and look at her taking in the image she had created, not on her canvas but on her couch. My body begins to tremble at the edging induced by her guidance, when finally she gives me the words that leap off of the earth, "Let go for me." My fingers grip into my hair as I climax around my fingers.

Her name christens my lips, and this moment when my body finally lets go. Time later I settle when I see the canvas turned to me. Slipping my fingers out, I lay admiring the piece. My body on the couch, the silk material represented through rivers of grey, it falling into this black hue. Back arched, my hand in my hair and the other lost in my hair.

It was haunting, yet so beautiful.

I focus on walking and go to her, her lips meeting mine in a kiss needed not for minutes or hours but for years before and to come "Thank you." She whispers through the broken kiss.