Session 𝓝inety-Four

Session 94:
“The Thrill”

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My brows were furrowed, sifting through the different outfits on hangers that Monroe packed for me.

I had fully gotten ready for tonight—my hair in a slicked low bun, my face glowing with natural makeup, and now I’m trying to pick out the best outfit.

We were just staying inside and making dinner together, but this was a date.

We had openly agreed to dress up in a high-maintenance way.

Monroe had come prepared with everything when it came to packing our bags.

She had casual clothes, dressy outfits, and then baggy sleepwear if one of us wanted it.

Tonight was going to be far from anything casual or baggy, though.

I settled on the tightest black corset dress.

It was strapless and emphasized my cleavage.

The way it clung to my curves and barely contained my thighs also added to the look of it all.

I made sure to rub in oil and lotion all over my exposed skin, making my body glisten just right, even under the dim lights.

Then I wore the heels she had gifted me.

The Louboutins.

Something about the red bottoms made this outfit feel so luxe and expensive.

I didn’t add any jewelry for once—my glistening collarbone and arms were already the star of the show, and I preferred it that way.

One of my secrets of the night was that I didn’t wear anything underneath this dress.

I didn’t need a bra, given the corset lifted me up and held my breasts in, but I purposely chose not to wear underwear.  

I knew it was a game card I could reveal, maybe halfway through dinner, to make my girlfriend lose her mind.

I planned to at least not let her touch me until we finished eating.

I wanted to make it through the meal without devouring each other until the end.

Even if that means having restraint on my end, too.

Besides, it’s always fun to make both of us wait for anything.

It adds this tension, and it makes the pleasurable high that much better.

I also like teasing Monroe, especially when I end up bent over her lap, taking whatever it is she needs me to.

I like the thrill of it.

The thrill of being punished by her.

She makes me feel things I’ve never possibly experienced with anyone else before.

Things that I wouldn’t want to experience with anyone else.

It’s so overwhelming and sometimes even painful, but in the best fucking way.

I crave it all tonight.

And I know the only way I’ll get it is if I push her just right.

I feel like I’ve been too good for her recently anyway.

I let out a soft sigh, setting down the fragrance oil I had applied all over myself for her.

I had purposely gotten ready in one of the separate guest bedrooms from her, knowing we wouldn’t last in that shower together.

Or she would see me, and I would see her, and we’d somehow find ourselves in bed or against a wall.

It displeased Monroe that I was getting ready separately from her, but that seemed to make me feel even more rewarded inside.

I was nearly tingling at the ideas of tonight, and what they held for us.

Once I was finished with my perfume, I was nearly pouncing at that door, ready to open it and see my girlfriend.

God, I couldn’t wait to see her all dressed up for me.

I had spent the last couple hours—envisioning her in my head.

I’m definitely more desperate than she is, but I need to keep my cool and focus.

I smoothed down my dress as I walked out of the bedroom, my heels clicking against the wood floors.

I noticed her as soon as I emerged from the short hallway, standing over in the kitchen with her back to me.

She wore the most perfect black shimmery one-piece.

It was strapless, and the shorts clung to her body and exposed her long soft legs.

Her silky brown hair was in waves, flowing down her back.

She wore black Saint Laurent stilettos, standing tall in front of the counter with different ingredients laid all over it.

 She looked so attractive from the back.

I wasn’t sure how I wouldn’t immediately fold for her once she turned around.

I could feel my heart ticking in my chest, and this warmth brimming at the edges of my face.

“I see they delivered the groceries,” I spoke first as I approached her, causing Monroe to turn her head.

I immediately eyed her face covered in light makeup—how she lined her blue eyes with eyeliner for once, or how her bangs were as neat as usual.

God, she looked incredible.

I just wanted to sit here and look at her for a few hours, especially in that black one-piece she’s wearing.

My lips twitched up, noticing her stare openly trailing my figure.

Her expression was neutral, but I could tell by how her hand subtly tightened around the counter that she was affected by my outfit.

I loved it.

“Yes,” Monroe finally spoke, her eyes shifting up to meet mine. “The groceries were delivered,” she murmured, her eyes now trailing my face.

I smiled wider when she extended her hand to me, causing me to instinctively step forward.

Monroe didn’t hesitate to grab my waist, firmly pulling me in for a hug.

I clenched my jaw the moment I heard her subtly inhale my scent, making my face fucking burn up.

Restraint.

I need to show some restraint.

I slowly pulled back from her before I could think it through, needing at least a few inches of space between us if we planned to make it through this dinner.

“Kiss,” Monroe murmured, glancing down at my lips in anticipation.

I didn’t hesitate to lean forward, briefly pressing my lips to hers.

But Monroe had quickly grabbed my neck, applying a firm pressure as she stole another kiss from me.

It was deeper and longer, especially as she subtly sucked on my bottom lip as she pulled away.

It was enough to make me press my thighs together.

“Better,” she determined as she pulled back from me, letting go of my neck.

I let out a long breath, rolling my shoulders back as she turned away from me.

Then my stare naturally diverted down, eyeing the way her hips swayed as she walked over to the fridge.

I swear I couldn’t focus to save my life.

Monroe had to take more of the reins here, or I would end up burning the food.

She made grilled chicken, broccoli, and roasted mini potatoes.

We also sipped on this smooth red wine while she cooked, and I helped her off on the side.

It was the little things.

How her hand would linger in mine when she grabbed something from me, or how she would randomly grab my waist to pull me closer.

There was this clear tension between us, and I swear I couldn’t get enough of her.

All I thought about were those three words I wanted to tell her, and how I would even get them out.

It felt impossible to me, but I wanted her to know how loved she is.

That no one else matters.

Not even her parents.

I will always be here for her.

“That’s really good,” I murmured as soon as I finished chewing the grilled chicken Monroe had cooked.

The table was set beautifully, only the light from the burning candles on the table illuminated the room.

It gave Monroe this glow to her, especially with the golden flame reflecting against her soft face.

“I’m glad you like it, darling,” Monroe said, glancing up from her plate.  

I hummed softly, reaching for my water to take a long sip.

A very long sip, actually—nearly a chug.

My girlfriend immediately tilted her head, openly eyeing my face.

“Is everything alright, Liberty?” she instinctively asked as I swallowed the sip I took.

I quickly nodded, “Yeah-yeah, I was just,” I paused, setting my glass down with a soft clatter. “I’m a little curious about your parents.”

I wasn’t even sure what the fuck I was saying, but I needed more context before saying these three words.

More context, as in I needed to know more about her background with her parents.

Then I’ll be prepared for a good or a bad reaction.

“Curious about what, darling?” Monroe asked, cutting into the piece of chicken using her fork and knife.

“Uh,” I breathed out, reaching for my silverware again. “So they never showed affection when you were a child?”

Monroe shook her head, taking a bite of the chicken on her fork.

“Not even good night kisses?” I asked as my girlfriend chewed a few times, “Or even telling you they love you?”

She shook her head yet again, briefly swallowing, “No, that wasn’t customary,” she said, somehow making me grow more nervous.

But it wasn’t a bad answer.

She just wasn’t used to it.

Simple.

“I don’t think it would’ve been necessary either,” Monroe said as she poked her fork into a piece of broccoli. “It would’ve been very odd to me.”

I blinked a few times.

Then I nodded.

Reluctantly.

Her words had made something inside of me sink, but I tried to fight it off, not wanting to ruin this beautiful moment between us.

Maybe I shouldn’t impulsively say these three words to her, not if she’ll find it odd.

Or even necessary.

They aren’t necessary.

She thinks they aren’t necessary.

I suddenly cleared my throat, trying to focus back on the plate of food in front of me.

“How’s the broccoli?” I asked her, poking my fork into one of the small roasted potatoes.

“Very good,” Monroe murmured, her blue eyes trailing my face.

Then she furrowed her brows, her stare now meeting mine.

“Tell me what’s on your beautiful mind,” she said, knowing me entirely too well.

I quickly shook my head, hoping to make it look instinctual.

“Nothing, baby,” I said, lying even if I said I wouldn’t anymore. “Just trying to enjoy our last night here.”

My girlfriend remained silent, her stare still tracing every detail of my face.

It made my heart rate pick up just a little in my chest.

Then—

She nodded once, glancing back down to her plate.

“I like this one-piece on you,” I softly whispered as I glanced down to eye her body, wanting to smoothly change the subject.

“You wouldn’t rather it off of me?” Monroe just had to ask me, her lips twitching up in the most subtle way.

It made me draw in a deep breath, nodding once, even if the action was stiff.

I knew she wanted a reaction out of me.

“Yes,” I whispered, “I wore this dress just so you wouldn’t have to take it off of me,” I murmured in the most innocent way. “I’m not wearing anything underneath either.”

It was silent.

Tensely silent.

So much so that I glanced up, immediately locking eyes with her.

I could tell my words were still processing in her head.

She was still thinking of her response back, what direction she wanted to take this.

“I like seeing you naked, Liberty,” Monroe finally spoke through the heavy air, “That dress will be coming off.”

I hummed, even if it was tighter than I expected.

I know she’s really tight—

“You should give me a show, darling,” Monroe suddenly suggested. “I like being entertained while I eat.”

I drew in the deepest breath of my fucking life, eyeing her face for a moment.

Then I tilted my head. “And if I decline?” I challenged.

“Then I have the capacity to deny you plenty of things tonight, sweetheart,” Monroe murmured in the softest way, even if her words were laced with the worst threat.

Whether it was edging me or not letting me touch her in return—

I knew I would be in for it.

So I sharply stood from my chair with a tightened jaw, throwing my napkin on the table.

I could feel the shift in the air, this deep tension brewing between us.

My girlfriend leaned back in her chair in the most attractive way, her eyes following my figure as I walked to stand at the head of the table across from her.

I purposely let my hips drift side to side, turning away from her so she could watch me undo my dress.

I took my time unlacing the ribbon that kept the corset in place, pulling each one loose.

The fabric softened with every release, no longer clinging to my ribs, and I could already feel the weight of her gaze between my shoulder blades.

I hadn’t even slipped it off yet.

When I finally did, the dress hit the floor like it was nothing.

Like it didn’t just have me in a chokehold for thirty minutes earlier trying to get into it without sweating.

Like I didn’t wear it for this exact reaction.

I didn’t look back at her.

Not right away.

I stood there completely bare, my skin glistening from the oil I rubbed so generously into it.

I let the silence pull again.

Monroe hadn’t moved a muscle.

Her food sat untouched.

The candlelight danced against her features, sharp and golden and so fucking cold.

 She looked calm.

Almost like the devil when she’s about to do something wicked and call it restraint.

“I don’t feel very entertained yet,” my girlfriend murmured.

I laughed softly. “Then you should say that. Because you’re staring at me like I already gave you everything, baby.”

“You did,” she said in the calmest way. “But I want more.”

Her fork finally scraped the plate, not to eat, but to push it to the side.

Her focus stayed on me like it was carved into her skull.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked, my dark eyes narrowing impatiently at her.

“You know exactly what I want,” she said, pushing her chair back, but she still didn’t rise to meet me. “But I think you want to be told.”

She was right.

God, do I like being told.

I like resisting her before she forces me to give in.

And I was doing everything I could to provoke her.

So I walked back toward her.

She stayed seated as I came around the table, her legs parted just enough for me to step in between.

I dropped into her lap without hesitation, one leg slid over her thigh, and my hands on her shoulders like I was the one in control.

We both knew I wasn’t—I could feel it.

Monroe’s hands hovered over my hips, barely touching me.

“You chose this dress for me,” she said slowly, lips almost brushing my ear now. “You don’t win when you play games, darling. You beg for mommy.”

“I’m not begging,” I decided, wanting to push her further.

I love begging.

I enjoy getting on my knees for her, but something in the air tonight makes me want to push her further.

Monroe looked at me then, really looked.

Then her eyes narrowed, and her thumb dragged over the inside of my thigh, soft and teasing.

“Hm,” she said. “Then I suppose you don’t come either.”

I almost whined.

Almost.

But instead, I clenched my jaw and leaned in, lips brushing the edge of her mouth.

“You’ll give in before I do,” I whispered innocently.

Monroe’s eyes darkened.

She stood so fast I yelped—my legs locking around her waist instinctively as she picked me up and pressed me onto the table.

Plates clattered.

A glass hit the floor and shattered, but neither of us flinched.

The wine bottle even tipped and rolled off the edge, breaking against the wood floor.

Her hands pressed to my chest, holding me down in place for her.  

I grinned up at her, dazed and excited by the reaction I got out of her.

She didn’t smile back.

She dipped her head to my chest, kissing low and slow, just long enough to make my breath hitch.

Then she bit.

“Fuck—Monroe,” I gasped, hands gripping the edge of the table.

She was everywhere now.

All at once.

Her hand slid down between my legs without warning, parting me with two fingers and holding me open.

“You’re already wet,” she said in observation. “You should’ve told mommy. She fixes you, darling.”

I reached for her, but she pulled back.

“Hands to yourself.”

“You’re so—” I almost choked on it. “Annoying.”

“Annoying, darling?” she murmured, finally letting her fingers sink in.

Two fingers, deep inside me.

My spine curved off the table as I moaned, breath catching in my throat.

Her mouth was back on me in seconds.

Lips on my neck, then my collarbone, then down.

Down until she found my nipple and tugged gently with her teeth.

I was crumbling beneath her.

There were no more games.

She had me—she won.

The candles flickered even harder around us now, like they could barely hold onto their flames in the heat between us.

Wax dripped onto the table, onto shattered glass and half-smeared food, but I didn’t even care.

I was gripping her wrist like it was a lifeline.

“Tell me you need me,” Monroe said, her blue eyes not wavering from mine.

I bit my lip so hard, I almost wondered if I drew blood.

She curled her fingers inside of me.

So fucking perfectly, too.

My legs trembled. “Monroe—”

“Say it, Liberty.”

“I need you,” I finally let out, voice wrecked. “I need you, baby—”

That was all she needed.

She started with a quick pace, making me throw my head back with so much pleasure coursing through my body.

Then I felt her lower down—and her mouth was pressed to my clit.

I gripped the table with one hand and her soft hair with my other, arching deeper into her touch.

Monroe groaned against me in response, especially when I began grinding my hips into her, quickly sending myself up to the highest of my peaks.

I couldn’t stop.

I chased that high with her until she stroked my spot just right.

And then I fell over the edge.

Her grip held me in place, making me take exactly what she wanted.

I swore I could feel her smile against me when I cried out for her.

All I could get out was mommy—over and over again, I moaned at the top of my lungs, my entire body trembling.

We were breathing so hard that nearly all the candles went out—there was barely any light between us.

The moonlight was the brightest light streaming in from the nearby window.

I could barely catch my fucking breath by the time Monroe had slowly risen up from between my legs.

Her lips were slick with my wetness, her eyes pinned on me, and her hair messy in the most attractive way.

“Get on your knees.”

Her voice was lowered, taking a calm step back from me as she unzipped her one-piece.

I didn’t hesitate to lay up from the table, watching my beautiful girlfriend undress in front of me.

I watched the material that once clung to her body, pool around her ankles.

God, was it a sight.

I quickly stood up from the table, only to fucking crawl down onto my knees for her.

Monroe grabbed one of the chairs, her sharp heels clicking slightly as she dragged it to sit down in front of me.

I watched as she man-spread before me, making everything inside of my body light up.

I didn’t think twice.

I leaned into her warmth, desperately.

 Then I whimpered, feeling her tug at my hair, pulled into a bun.

“Be a good girl for me, Liberty,” she murmured, using my hair to guide me at her own pace.

She was quite literally using my face—as I licked and sucked her clit.

But I wanted more.

I wanted something softer for her.

So I smoothly grabbed her hand, pulling away from her clit as I pinned it to the side.

“Look at me, okay?” I whispered, my voice more vulnerable than I wanted it to be.

It made Monroe’s brows subtly furrow.

But she nodded, “Okay, sweetheart,” she whispered, watching me as I leaned in yet again.

This time, I went slower, letting go of her wrist to caress my hands up her soft thighs.

I held her stare the entire time I ate her out, keeping a steady and slow rhythm.

I watched her slowly rise up to her peak, how her perfect chest would rise with each breath, or how she would struggle to keep her heavy eyes open.

God, it was so perfect.

She was so perfect.

“Liberty,” she whispered softly, her back arching further away from the chair, “Darling,” she said with the deepest moan.

I could tell that was it.

She had fallen into her orgasm whether she could help it or not, her eyes rolling closed as she gently grabbed the back of my neck.

“My God, Liberty,” she breathed out, her legs trembling as I continued teasing and sucking her clit.

I went at an even slower pace, helping her ride out her orgasm until her body went limp.

Then I pulled back with a soft smile, admiring the view of her above me.

How she was still catching her breath, or how flushed her cheeks were.

“Come here,” Monroe said, her breath still wavered as she extended her arms to me.

I didn’t hesitate to crawl off my knees, rising to my height just to sit on her lap.

Monroe ran her arms around me, burying her face in my chest.

It was comfortably silent between us, a softness burning between our bodies.

“I want to do this for the rest of my life.”

Her words were barely audible against my bare skin, almost as if she were thinking aloud.

I wasn’t sure what to say, if she meant to say it to me.

So I held her tighter, wondering when I would finally be able to tell her I love her.

Or if I’ll just have to wait for her instead.

At least if she says it, I know it’ll feel necessary to her.

I briefly glanced around the dining room, acknowledging the mess we had made of the room.

The broken bottle of spilled wine, broken dishes, and food everywhere.

I didn’t regret a single thing.

I love making messes with her—and just like she said, I want to do this for the rest of my life.

Deep inside, I really hope she loves me too.