She stares at you for a moment, then gently lowers her fork down. "Okay." There's a quaver in her voice, but she sounds a lot more confident than you'd actually expected her to. "I don't really know where to start. Could you...?"
You nod firmly. "Okay. Before we do, Madison, you have to answer me honestly. Okay? Don't be scared or worried that you'll disappoint me or anything like that. If you don't think you'll enjoy something, then tell me, and if you want to try something, then tell me that too. Okay?"
Her lip trembles a little, but she nods seriously.
"Good." You lean forwards. "Is there anything you'd like me to do after we finish tonight?"
She looks down at the table for a moment. "Um, what do you mean?"
"Well, I don't know what you like." You drum your fingers on the table. "You might like to sleep alone, so if you don't want me to cuddle you when we're done, you should tell me now. Or if you want to take a shower after we're done, or if you don't. That kind of thing."
She trembles a little. "Um, I don't know," she admits, her voice small. "I haven't... done this before. But, please don't leave me alone?"
You nod. "I can do that," you assure her. "I'll stay near you, I promise. Is there anything else?"
She jerkily shakes her head. "I can't think of anything," she says. "Just, maybe you can check when we're done? I might know then..."
You nod, accepting that. "We'll see how it goes," you smile at her. "That's okay, Madison. If you don't know, you don't know. We'll figure it out together." She gives you a tentative smile. "Now, the sex itself. Um. We should figure out a safeword." At her questioning look, you explain; "It's a word you can say during sex to get me to stop whatever I'm doing right away. You can use it if you're feeling uncomfortable, or if I hurt you, or for whatever reason."
She tilts her head. "Can't I just say no?" she asks. "Or stop?"
"No," you reply. "There might be times when you say no for some other reason, or ask me to stop without meaning for me to stop everything I'm doing. It's important that you have a way to stop me if I go further than you're comfortable with, and that I have a way to stop you if you go further than I'm comfortable with."
"Okay." Madison chews her lip a little. "My safe word will be November, then."
"No," you say gently. "It should be something meaningful to you, Madison. If you've ever had a really good masturbation session-" She chokes a little, and you fight back a grin— "then you know that it can leave you feeling a bit light-headed. Imagine that, but worse. It can make it difficult to think clearly and remember things. It's important that you choose a word that means something to you."
"Okay." Chewing on her lip anxiously, she stares down at the table for long moments. You wait patiently for her to think it through. It takes her over a minute to look up and reply, and when she does, it's with a pained little look. "My safe word will be, um, unwanted. Is that-"
"It's not up to me," you tell her gently. "If you think you'll remember it, then it's good." She nods unhappily. "Okay. My safe word is cancer." She blinks twice, but you don't give her time to think the implications through. "Alright. So, we should talk about fetishes."
Over the next half an hour, you're able to determine these things:
Madison, unsurprisingly, loves the idea of submission and you dominating her. Every time you try to figure out where her limits lied, she seems to be fine with it. It's only when you got into more extreme territory, like chaining her hands and feet up and making her clean your house with her mouth, that she gets hesitant, and even that's more because she's not sure if she could physically do it. Honestly, you're the limiting factor there; you're the one who's not comfortable with dominating her to quite that extent. You love the idea of her doing your cooking and cleaning nude, but that's as far as you really want to push her.
She's fine with some of your other kinks. Bondage isn't something she's really interested in the way you are, but if you want to tie her up for a while, she thinks she might enjoy some light handcuffing. She's not into exhibitionism at all— "My body is for you," she says firmly— but she enjoys the idea of public sex, as long as nobody can really see you, which is fine— you're a bit of a voyeur, but you're also rather possessive and don't like other people looking at your girls. She doesn't mind the idea of toys, but affirms that she really enjoys being able to touch you, and that she'd prefer you use your fingers and mouth when you can.
She tells you that she'd prefer to avoid what she calls "butt stuff", so you mentally cross anal off the list. It's not your biggest kink anyway, although you're not against it if your partner wants it, so that's fine. She's also not really into dirty talk— "It makes me feel ashamed," she admits, "and I don't like feeling ashamed." That one's a bit disappointing, but you'll live. She also doesn't like incest, which disappoints you for a second until you remember she doesn't even have any female siblings, and you don't think you'd enjoy seeing Madison fuck her mother in anything but a fit of revenge.
Neither of the two of you enjoy the thought of causing or receiving pain, which is a bit of a relief. You can't imagine ever wanting to hurt one of your girls. You might enjoy some light slapping if it's Emma, or some light spanking for sexy purposes, but that's as far as it goes. Neither of you is into watersports or scat, which is a huge relief— that's a line you'd really prefer to never have to cross. And... that's where your list of kinks ends.
You're pretty sure there's more, a lot more, but you haven't encountered them. You can't discuss them with Madison if you don't know they exist. Honestly, you're pretty inexperienced still.
It's not a very sexy talk, but it's a necessary one. Just imagining not knowing where Madison's limits lie and accidentally pushing her too far makes you feel a bit queasy. You don't know her well enough to recognize the signs that she's uncomfortable during sex yet.
And as much as the idea once appealed to you, you don't think you could just use her for sex any more. You couldn't do that to her.
While the two of you were talking, you each slowly finished off your dinner. Now that the talk has concluded, you pick up your bowls and take them over to the sink, rinsing them off and placing them on the rack to dry up. Then, you take Madison's hand and draw her slowly up, leading her to your room, where you sit down on your bed and draw her over to you.
Then, you let go of her hand and slide your arms around her, just holding her for a while and occasionally giving her a small kiss on the top of her head. She looks and feels uncomfortable after your talk. You don't want to push her right now. Plus, what is that rule— half an hour after eating before exercise? As unsexy as that talk might have been, you're pretty sure that getting a stomach cramp in the middle of fingering her would be even less sexy.
So you're patient. You just sit there on your bed, revelling in the feel of her in your arms, the smell of her hair, and the warmth of her body.
It takes a while for her to relax, but she slowly does. When she's relaxed enough that you think she's receptive, you quietly move your hand up to the zipper of the jacket she's still wearing and gently pull it down. She looks up at you with lidded eyes; you lean down and press a kiss on each of her eyelids, then slide back so she can lie down on your bed. She holds her arms up, allowing you to tug the jacket off her, incidentally leaving her completely topless.
Then you slide off the bed, roughly tossing the jacket aside, and kneel on the floor beside where she's lying on the bed. She goes to turn over and look at you, but you press a firm hand to her collarbone, preventing her from moving; then, you lean over the bed and kiss her warmly, moving your hand down to rest on her stomach. She smiles into the kiss.
For a good few minutes, you let her just lay there, peppering kisses over her lips. Then you begin moving down, pressing soft kisses down her jaw— tracing your tongue over her jawline, and listening to her giggles at the tickling sensation— and down her neck. You pause, there, and press a long kiss to it. A gasp escapes her when you gently bite on it, then turns into a louder moan when you suck the skin. For a minute or two, you sit there, alternating between biting her and sucking on her neck, until you're sure a large bruise will develop there. See if anyone misses that.
Only once you're content with your marking do you continue down, tracing soft kisses along her collarbone and listening to her soft panting. She has a sharp, defined collarbone, usually hidden beneath a shirt. Now that you have free rein to play with it, you spend a few minutes licking your way along it, leaving a trail of wet saliva across her neck and collar.
She's biting back erotic groans when you finally begin kissing your way down her chest. You tease her by kissing your way around her breast first, then licking the swell beneath, and running your tongue down her stomach. She gives a disappointed whimper, but only clutches at your bedspread; she doesn't complain at all. Good. You lick down further, until you reach the edge of her skirt, then you begin licking your way back up, pausing at her bellybutton for a moment. Her groans grow louder as you dip your tongue into it and swirl it around quickly, and don't fade when you move on and move back up, not pausing in your quest to reach her breasts again.
It's all about the tease, the build-up. Your power swells at the back of your mind, begging for you to use it. You do— but only to feel her, not to touch her, not to control her. As your fingers slip beneath her skirt, touching the elastic line of her panties, you're able to feel her emotions swell— her lust, her submission, but more than anything, that warm feeling of her caring and devotion and affection and love. It's a heady sensation, knowing that you're the cause of this, that the reason Madison is squirming and whimpering on your bed is because of you.
You taunt her, slipping your fingers in and out of her panties without ever touching her where she needs to be touched. You can feel her emotions ebbing and flowing beneath you. You can't stop yourself from clambering onto the bed beside her, resting on the bed beside her as you yank off her skirt and her panties and toss them aside. Her heaving breasts make a soft pillow as you lay beside her, eyes closed as you immerse yourself in her emotions. Above, her voice is chanting softly— "Taylor, Taylor, Taylor, Taylor"— but you're listening for something stronger, something deeper. Soon, you're hearing it, the soft thrum-thrum of her fluttering heartbeat, and that's where you rest your head, where you focus your attention.
For a while, you lay there like that, skimming your fingers over her bare pussy and daringly dipping a finger inside her for brief seconds before pulling out, leaving her aching, unfulfilled. You can feel what you're doing her, how wet she's getting, how her heart thunders in her chest, but you don't stop. Occasionally, you move your head just far enough that you can bite her breasts a little, before you retreat back. Her voice is breaking, now— soft moans of "No, please, no, Taylor, keep going, please-" but you don't care. She's not quite there yet.
There's a sexual element to your power. Well, obviously, but you mean, beyond the obvious. When you can literally feel someone's emotions, when you can feel how pleasurable they're feeling, there's almost no need for you to actually be touched. You can just lay down, revelling in the pleasure you're causing to course through Madison's body.
When you judge that she's wet enough, wanting it enough, you slip up her body a bit until you're lying fully alongside her, one hand still down between her legs. She spasms, letting out a long and loud groan as you lean in and kiss the mark you'd put on her neck earlier. Her groan soon turns into soft whimpers as you just gently lick it, then tilt your head up to give her a wet kiss.
You're tempted to push it, push her, into a frenzy of sexual energy. To whisper in her ear about how you're marking her, to tease her and torture her until she begs for you to let her come, until she gets on her hands and knees and offers herself to you to satisfy your perverse desires. But tonight isn't about that kind of thing, not really.
Instead, you spend a few more moments teasing her, then watch her face as you slowly slip a finger inside her. Her eyes flutter closed as a gasp escapes her, turning into a loud groan as you work a second finger inside. That's it— she's too tight for a third. Even you have to fight down a shiver as the sensations flood back into you.
It's fascinating to watch her as you begin pumping your fingers into her. Her eyes dart all over the place, unfocused as though she doesn't know where to look, roaming hungrily over your face, down your shirt and over your room. Her cries are too broken and incoherent for you to tell what she's trying to say, now; there's a lot of cries of "Tay" and "Yes" in there, but that's all you can make out between the whimpers and moans. She doesn't know what to do with her hands, alternating between clenching them on the bedspread and running them up over her stomach and breasts.
Then her pleasure peaks, and she spasms and cries loudly, coating your hand liberally with her juices. Your vision swims for a moment as her orgasm washes back to you, causing an intense wash of pleasure to run through your body; you can't help but let out your own moan to match her cry. You don't let up, though, and soon add your thumb to the mix as you begin to roughly rub her clit, causing her body to jerk again in your hand. Your body is almost shaking too badly for you to bring your free hand up to her mouth, where you cover it before her cries— almost screams— of pleasure can come forth loudly enough for your neighbours to hear. Somehow, though, you manage it, even managing to bring yourself up to your knees so you can angle your fingers deeper into her.
She's coming again, soon, your furious assault pushing her through her first orgasm and into her second. You can't help that your fingers slip out of her several times as you fight through your own orgasm to continue fucking her. Her pleasure has almost overwhelmed her, now— you can feel it, feel her trembling at your hands— and then it peaks again, you peak again, and you collapse atop her, mouth pressing furiously against hers as the two of you tremble in your third orgasm tonight.
And only then, thoroughly spent, do you collapse beside her, still fully dressed. She's gasping so hard for breath that you have to slip the hand that had been covering her mouth before you'd kissed her beneath her and raise her chest a little, allowing her to breathe in deeply before she passes out.
