Learning to Trust Part 2: Full Submission by B. B. Roman Page A

later. These kids are driving me nuts. See ya.”
    The call ended just like that— I was alone again in that hotel room. I put the phone back down on the bed .
    I really liked Pat because he was absolutely a no bullshit kind of guy. He didn't want excuses or lies, even if the truth hurt worse. I had actually messed up a lot at the beginning of my career with him and he always took me back in, giving me a harsh scolding that I learned to take. It had made me a lot stronger than I was when I started.
    I went and worked out after that, taking a quick swim at the conclusion of my workout. The cool water felt just marvelous after so much sweating . I watched the other couples around the pool, suddenly feeling so old and alone , even though I was only 28 . People swimming together, playing together, being affectionate together. Some with kids, some without. As stupid as it sounded, I had never just frolicked with a lover in a pool, oblivious to the world — like we were the only people there. God, I wasn't even 30 and already I felt like I was having a mid-life crisis. If I kept holding on to so much stress, dying at 60 didn't see m like such an impossibility.
    Jesus, Marisa. You can't even go swimming without upsetting yourself. Why did I have to spoil every good moment by over-thinking?
    I got back to my room and hit the shower to wash away the chlorine smell. Standing still, the warm water rushed down my body, envelo ping me with relaxing steam . I reached out of the shower to grab my hairbrush ; the water hit my clit with almost laser-precision, strong and pow erful. I immediately shivered. I felt like a recovering drug addict that just had a taste of some very forbidden fruit , a taste that would have ruined any and all progress toward breaking the habit.
    My fingers, possessed by a need like the one I'd felt the previous day, shot to that awoken flesh between my legs, swirling gently at first, growing in intensity as I felt my body fill with burning white heat. I touched myself frantically and desperately, fueled by re-emerging , transparent images of Roland in my mind.
    I thought of his hands on my wrists again, his power, his drive to please and control me. The images were weaker this time — I felt like I could literally see through them — but the emotions were stronger than ever. That feeling of helplessness flooded through me like water through a broken dam, filling me just as his thickness had. I wanted to trust him, to submit to him, to let him do with me whatever he thought was best.
    My ache throbbed as I touched myself; there was nothing I could do to stop that growing internal want as it snowballed. My fingers eased into my moist folds, pressing against my g-spot with each in-and-out movement, my muscles clenching against them with absolute approval. I kept my thumb planted against my swollen clit, increasing the pressure as I got hotter and hotter inside, my core threatening to burst from just too much . I worked fast and with precision as my mind cycled through everything I had felt, one emotion after another like they were printed on flash cards.
    I moaned loudly, sending my departed cries echoing against the shower walls, reminding my ears that I couldn't stop no matter what. I felt myself go over the edge, my cream spilling out, my legs weakening even as my muscles tightened everywhere. I fell back against the s hower wall and cried out for more, clutching the metal bar for support. I pushed myself higher and higher into my clima x, the water gushing at me as tension fled my body, evaporating like steam from a teakettle . I felt my pussy flutter against my fingers, and after that, it was over. The explosion had been overwhelming ly big, but quick.
    My heart took its sweet time to slow down, working with my heaving chest to return me to normality. I suddenly felt too hot and turned up the cold water, chilling myself as I went too far. I shivered, somewhat enjoying the icy surprise. I realized I had