Hitting the Bottom Ch. 05

It was a tough conversation in which I had to face quite a few uncomfortable truths about myself. For one I was confronted with how weak I'd been - how submissive - in my compliance to my father's wishes, which dictated producing a son to carry on the family line above all other duties. At the time I had embraced those 'family values' that he'd talked about with the same zeal that the old man did. But following the thought process laid out by Dr. Pappas' deceptively simple questions I quickly came to see what was, until that point, a huge blind spot: Ten years into our marriage, Naomi had every right to expect herself to be my main familial loyalty.

But she wasn't. No wonder she never contested the divorce but rather just picked up and left. Smart lady.

My self-reproach returned with a vengeance and I almost had another panic attack right there in the cozy little clinic. Dr. Pappas took it as an opportunity to practice relaxation techniques. He kept telling me that 'it's not about judging what you did before; it's about deciding what you're going to do from now on', but I still felt like kicking myself in the balls. Those 'what if's' are damn hard to ignore.

When I got my emotions under control again we talked a bit about my post-divorce depression and how my father's illness and death had contributed to it. Putting that title to it - "depression" - was something I had objected to quite firmly; Dr. Pappas calmly countered that "if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck..." He softened his words by saying it didn't make me 'a crazy person', but rather meant I was 'a person experiencing mental difficulties' that were 'actually quite common'. I wasn't sure I was buying it but we agreed to continue talking about it on the next session.

*

And now the next session had arrived and I don't want to talk about my depression anymore. Or rather I do, but with a very specific goal in mind.

I want to know if there's a risk I'd go crazy again and hurt another woman - Sandra this time. So when Dr. Pappas asks me what I've been up to I take the opportunity to push straight to the heart of the matter.

"Well doc, actually, I've been seeing a woman. And I wanted to talk to you about it."

Dr. Pappas eyebrows shoot up in interest and he leans forward in his chair.

"All right Dan. Tell me about her then."

*

*

*

"Sandra, we need to talk."

We're cuddled together on the couch watching our national soccer team struggle to score on its second game of the World Cup. We know we're not going to even make it to the top sixteen but it's still fun to watch, and we've turned it into a bit of a party, wearing our flag-colored jerseys over boxer shorts, beer and munchies on the low coffee table, enjoying the Mundial atmosphere in Sandra's living room.

It's now close to midnight on Friday night and I've been working up my courage to start this conversation ever since I got back from the clinic. As the game draws to its inevitable close - putting a lid on our national hopes for the tournament - I can no longer postpone our talk. I know we can't go to bed tonight without speaking first.

Sandra tenses up at my words and turns her alarmed eyes at me. "Are- are you dumping me?"

"I - what?! No. No! I'm not... Shit, I didn't mean it to freak you out baby. I'm sorry. I just want us to talk. I've been doing some thinking... about us."

She relaxes only a little, her face still marred with her unease. "Okay... It's just that in my experience a conversation that starts with 'we need to talk' never ends well."

I try to smile reassuringly although in truth I'm nervous as hell, too. "I promise you that I want you very much baby. That's a given, alright?"

Sandra nods and smiles briefly. "Okay, I guess that sounds a little less scary. And just so we're clear on the subject you should now that I want you, too."

"Thanks baby. But - but here's the thing..." I gulp and cough, then start again. "Why? Why would you want me?"

I'd asked her a similar question before, when she was nice enough to hang out with me at the hospital, that night when I couldn't sleep. She said then I was good company and she liked me, but that's not enough to explain the way she all but propositioned me last week, effectively pushing our relationship to the next level. And though I can guess why she was interested in me I need her to tell me so that I know for sure. Then we could build from there, or so Dr. Pappas said.

'Honest communication, Dan. Be clear about what you want from each other, about what each one of you is looking for, and about what you can and cannot do in this relationship.'

Sandra stiffens under my arm and looks down at her hands, picking her fingers absently. Finally she mumbles under her breath:

"You know why, Dan."

I feel my breath catch. Damn. I was afraid she'd say that. I lift her head back up to look at me.

"Because you're looking for someone who'd dominate you in bed." I state quietly, repeating what she revealed to me back at the hospital. The soft-spoken words still ring between us in the suddenly quiet apartment.

She blinks - clear blue eyes locked with mine, her surprise turning into a fierce, unapologetic look. "Yes. I'm looking for a man who would dominate me sexually, and who would at the same time respect me as his equal outside of the bedroom. Like I feel that you do."

I nod. "Yeah. I do." and then I add, trying to keep my self-doubts out of my voice but failing miserably - "but how would you ever be able to fully trust me - knowing what I did?"

Her expression softens at the pain in my words. "Dan... Yes, I know what you did. I also know how deeply you regret it, and the steps you've been taking to make sure you never do it again. I know how committed you are to that. I know the lengths you go to to keep yourself from risking anybody. I admire you for that."

I shrug her praise off. I am so far from being worthy of any admiration it's not even funny.

"What, talking to the shrink twice a week? I wouldn't call that going to any lengths."

"I mean attempting suicide as a preventative measure to keep others safe. I mean denying yourself the right to Dom anyone - even an eager partner - because you feel it may push you down a slippery slope that would end as badly as your last relationship."

Her eyes now shine with her conviction as they lock with mine. Her ferocious defense of my character humbles me, and I find myself choking back a wave of emotion before I can reply.

"I, I - thank you for that, Sandra." I clear my throat before I continue. "But still... If we were to play together - if I were to dominate you in any way and still keep you safe - it would need to be under my terms."

She bursts out laughing - "I wouldn't have it any other way!" - and it takes me a moment to figure out what's so funny. When I do I find myself chuckling despite myself, shaking my head ruefully.

"Yeah, I guess that would be a given, huh?"

Sandra nods, still smiling, and I grimace and try again. "What I meant is there are things you may expect to happen in a scene - that would seem pretty basic to you - that I won't be willing to do."

"You mean limits?"

My head snaps up, startled at her question. "I - I hadn't thought about it like that but - yeah, I guess so. With my baggage... there are quite a few more limits for me than you'd expect from a Dom."

Sandra bows her head and focuses on her fingers, wringing again in her lap. Finally she looks up at me.

"Okay. Just so you know though... I'm not that experienced a submissive. I really wouldn't know what's 'expected' to happen in a scene, or what kind of limits Doms usually have. I've never even talked about it with anyone before. I had a few boyfriends who would occasionally spank me or blindfold me or be rough with me, but I don't think I'd ever been in a real 'scene'."

Well DAMN. I was so focused on myself, my issues and my insecurities, that I completely lost sight of her. Shit.

Strike one, Dan.

The kick of adrenaline realizing my mistake makes my heart pound faster and my muscles twitch restlessly. I feel like jumping up from the couch and pacing, but instead I take a deep breath and release it slowly, consciously relaxing my body, employing one of those little techniques Dr. Pappas had me practice. I'm half-surprised to find how well it works.

After another moment I'm calm enough to speak again. I look back into Sandra's face and see her worrying her lower lip with her teeth, clearly uneasy with her confessed lack of experience. I let the back of my fingers trace down her downy-soft cheek to her chin and with my thumb I release the offended lip from the sharp grip holding it captive.

"Baby, thank you for telling me that. I admit I assumed you had a bit more experience given how clear you were on what you were looking for... that was my mistake; I shouldn't have assumed anything. Now I do want us to have a proper conversation about limits - both yours and mine - but I think we should take a little more time preparing for it. Especially as it's going to be your first time really thinking it through."

She looks a bit disappointed but then answers with a tongue-in-cheek "yes, sir!" which makes my cock twitch and my heart skip a beat at the same time. Fuck!

With a low growl I take her face in my hands and kiss her deeply, my tongue delving in between her still-smiling lips. A moment later I feel her moan into my mouth and return the favor, letting her tongue explore and glide along mine, her soft lips open and pliant under my mouth.

Fuck yeah. That's more like it, baby.

Sandra's hands snake under my shirt and around my torso and she scratches my back lightly, pressing closer to me as we kiss, and while I keep one hand buried in her sweet-smelling hair I reach down with the other, gliding along her side - her waist, her hip, her thigh - curving around and sinking into the soft naked skin at the back of her leg and urging her to move over me and straddle me on the sofa.

As soon as she does she starts rocking her hips gently back and forth, her tight cotton boxers clinging to the contours of her pussy between her widely-spread legs. My dick responds to the sight and the sweet movement with enthusiasm. Sandra smile and reaches down between us starting to rub up and down my quickly-swelling bulge. I groan my appreciation and grab the hem of her jersey.

"Hands up baby. Just for a moment I promise, and then you can go back to it..."

With a smirk she shifts her weight back and raises her arms obediently. I feel my cock twitch again at the sight and take my time getting the jersey off, raising the hem inch by inch. Once her glorious tits are fully exposed I bunch the material in my left hand behind her back, tightening it across her chest, and with my right hand I cup and lift one heavy globe, holding it up as I bend down to take the pretty pink tip into my mouth.

Sandra's head rolls back as a gasp escapes her arched throat, while her hands drop to hold onto my shoulders. Fuck she's sexy like that. I spend long, luxurious moments lost in the heaven of her creamy breasts with their cherry-pink nipples, licking, sucking and nibbling on them until I hear a soft little whine and her hips rock harder, pressing and grinding her pussy onto my hard cock through our underwear.

The jolt of pleasure from that sweet contact makes me gasp, releasing her puckered nipple from my lips. Looking up at her flushed face I smile and shift my hand down to her hip. Grabbing hold at her hip bone I start guiding her pelvis as it rocks against mine, keeping the rhythm nice and easy.

"So, babygirl... as long as we haven't yet had that conversation... how about some vanilla fun tonight?"

The mischievous glint in her eyes should have tipped me off, but her answer still manages to steal my breath for a moment when it comes through her wide, smug smile.

"Ooooh absolutely yes, sir!"

The playful little spank that lands on her cotton-covered tush draws a surprised squeal out of her throat. I rub the tiny sting away as I lean closer to her ear.

"Smart-mouth... keep up the bratty attitude and you'll need those limits sooner than you realize..."

She responds by grinding her pussy onto my cock again and it is all I can do not to flip her on her back and fuck her senseless right there on the couch. Instead I press her even harder into me and kiss her lush, smiling lips again, and it's another minute before either one of us draws enough air to speak.

"Bedroom, now." Is all I can get through the haze of lust in my head.

"Yes, sir!" comes her now-to-be-expected reply, openly giggling at my mock-thunderous scowl. Damn but my palm itches. She wiggles quickly off my lap and dashes into the bedroom, getting the jersey completely off and waving it behind her back before throwing it carelessly to the floor as she disappears behind the door.

Flopping back against the cushion I take another moment to compose myself taking deep, slow breaths. I'm going to keep it vanilla tonight if it kills me. The rate that she's going, it just might - for real. Shaking my head at myself I follow Sandra into the darkened room.

*

*

*

We made a date to talk about our limits on the next Friday so that we'd each have plenty of time to think it through, and also for me to have a couple more meetings with Dr. Pappas before we actually took that next step. He had already reassured me that he didn't see any immediate risk in my playing a more dominant role with Sandra, and promised we would continue to re-evaluate the situation on every meeting for as long as we both deemed it necessary.

I learned that the evaluation focused on identifying violent emotions towards others, and specifically towards Sandra. When Dr. Pappas first took me through it we had stumbled upon some difficulties considering questions like "Do you feel like you'd want to physically hit this person if you were alone in a room with them?".

Quickly enough, though, we figured out the necessary tweaks - e.g. adding "without their consent" to every given situation, or change the word 'hit' to 'harm'. That worked; I'd passed my first evaluation - late on Tuesday morning - with flying colors and was feeling much, much better with myself as I was driving through the busy city streets over to Sandra's place after stopping in my own apartment for a quick wash and a change of clothes.

This could really work. Dr. Pappas knows what he's doing; if he says he's confident about Sandra's safety with me, then so am I.

Trust and hope.

*

*

*

Taking the stairs up to Sandra's apartment I am nervous again. Showered, scrubbed and cleanly shaved - colloquially known as the 4 S's - I stand on her doorstep gathering the courage to ring the bell. Why I should be nervous I'm not quite sure. The last few days were a dream. We've been seeing each other every day and have truly enjoyed each other's company - not to mention the sex has been hot as hell. I'm sure she has a real connect with me as I know I certainly do with her, but the fear that something will go wrong - even 'normal' wrong, regardless of my special circumstances - still clamps my stomach.

Stupid I know, but I feel like a teenager on a date again. She had to work last night so we haven't seen each other in over 24 hours and already I miss her. I know her afternoon should be free so I'm here to whisk her away for a few hours of romantic walks in the country and hopefully a repeat of the bedroom athletics, maybe outdoors this time...

Keeping it vanilla doesn't mean we can't spice it up in other fun ways!

The sound of the bell makes me start even though it is me that has pushed the button.

Get a grip Dan.

Sandra's silhouette appears in the frosted glass of the door and something instantly niggles at me; when she opens it I see why.

She is dressed in her Nurse's uniform. That lovely white dress that reaches just above her knees.

Oh Fuck. She's going to work! Why didn't I ring and check first?

"Oh hi Dan, you look good! Come on in!" she reaches up on her toes, puts her arms around my neck, leans forward and opens her soft lips against mine giving me a slow, warm, welcoming kiss.

"Hi Sandra" I eventually manage to say when she pulls back for breath. "Glad to see you, too."

If she'd been leaning at the right angle she would have noticed exactly how pleased I was to see her, but fortunately she was slightly sideways so my right hip got the pleasure of her thighs, and I was spared the discomfort of appearing quite so eager.

I'm not some horny kid, dammit. Well, not a kid, at least.

"Mmm... You smell lovely, all spruced and after-shaved just for me. A girl can't help but be impressed." She takes my hand and leads me into her kitchen.

We stand by the sink, side by side but not touching, and to be honest it feels a bit awkward for some reason. Neither of us speaks, just looking into each other's eyes - I wish I could read her mind right now - my fingers gripping the smooth, cold ceramic by my hips, and eventually I break the silence with the first thought that comes to mind.

"So your sink stopped leaking?"

There's a moment's silence before she breaks out in peals of laughter. "And who said romance was dead. I'm gonna buy you 101 ways to woo your woman for Christmas!"

I nod, smiling at the thought of her buying me anything for Christmas, a few good months away from today - "that could come in handy, thank you!" - and with that the tension seems to disappear so I decide to confess about my plans for the afternoon.

"Er, I was hoping we could go out for a picnic or something. I've actually prepared some food and there's a nice bottle of wine in the cool box down in my car, but it looks like you'd be working instead. What happened?"

"Yeah... I'm sorry about that. I should've called and let you know but I was just checking back on my paperwork for the week and realized that I had a discharged patient under my care who hadn't had his final medical. It needs to be done and dated today or I will be in breach of regulations. I'm sorry baby, but it can't wait. It must be done pronto. But it should only take about an hour or so."

I keep my disappointment in check and glue a smile to my face. "No problem baby, work must come first. It's only midday so perhaps we can go out when you're finished?" I think she sees past my brave face as I can't quite keep the hopeful ring out of my voice, but truth is I don't really mind her knowing how much I want to spend time with her.

She leans into me, plants her soft breasts against my chest, looks me in the eye and whispers: "A picnic later sounds fantastic, and thank you for being so understanding. For now go upstairs, get undressed and lay face up on the bed. I will be with you shortly."

I blink, unsure I heard her correctly, and then look at her in shock. "But your appointment?"

"Just go and do as I tell you."

The look in her eyes and her tone of voice tell me I shouldn't argue - not if I know what's good for me - so with a curious glance in her direction I cross the kitchen and walk to her bedroom, feeling my heartbeat picking up to a quick gallop.

What the hell is going on here? Has she got time for a quickie? Is she going to leave me waiting?

I slowly undress and do as I'd been instructed. As I lie there my brain is working ten to the dozen, but with the ticking of time my mind drifts off as I enjoy the smooth, cool sheets under my back and the faint scent of Sandra that wraps around me, teasing me, hinting of possibilities to come.