"No, not Sean. I don't see it at all."

Every straight girl in NYC has a gay best friend and I was no exception. Although, I may have cheated a little - I brought mine with me from Mokena when I made the move. Timothy was a good ten years older than I, trained up in the ways of Old School leather, and perhaps the least gay homosexual I had ever met. Most folks, after sizing him up a minute or two, would guess lumberjack long before they ever pegged him as the Leather Daddy sort.

I pointed this out this out to him in defense of my judgment of Sean. "Look at you,” I said, stabbing the olive out of my martini glass with a cocktail spear and aiming it at him in mock accusation, “would anyone ever guess that you were a bullwhip wielding kinkster of the not-so-straight variety? The Levi's and truck driver button-up don't exactly scream, 'get on your knees boy and suck my cock while I spank your ass.'"

"They make an outfit that says all that?" Timothy laughed.  Pulling his flannel up to reveal the leather "bracelet" snapped onto his wrist, he continued with a grin, “but you know, these hypothetical folks we’re concerning ourselves over might very well guess my ‘true nature’ as soon as they realize that I'm wearing a cock ring as jewelry," he laughed. "You never do know when you’re going to need one.”

“Oh Jesus, Tim, I’m serious.”

“Me too Paige.  It's all about interpreting the right signs."

"Yes, exactly. My point exactly. I am simply saying that all of Sean's signs point to wanting to be on his knees in front of me serving my every little whim. That's all." I waved the speared olive dismissively, tongued the vodka off of it and slipped it ridiculously far down my throat before swallowing and sliding the cocktail sword out from between my lips with an exaggerated slurp.

Timothy raised an eyebrow. "That almost works on me, and I'm sure it would more than work on Sean if your goal were just to get him into your bed...  But a submissive? I'm still not sold that the Paige-dar is gonna come through on this one with a correct reading."

"We'll see."

Sean was a Colorado cowboy that had gotten talked into community theatre years ago by his sister in law when the local playhouse needed a last minute replacement for an actor that totaled out his motorcycle three evenings prior to opening night. He played the part of an abusive ex-boyfriend turned stalker, and for a proper raised cowboy gentleman was eerily convincing and more than intimidating enough to ensure his success in the role. Walking the boards at just over six foot, his tightly Wrangler wrapped physique of well defined muscle and bulk gave the dark haired and strong jawed cowboy the appearance of being much larger. In an industry dominated by pretty boys, this "man's man" stood out.

The initial role turned into an offer for one more, another after that, and before long Sean was splitting his time between being on horseback, being on stage, and working through Engineering School. Volunteer community gigs turned to paying regional, and after a number of years a local colleague turned professional NYC Director invited him to come up and reprise a role he had directed him in nearly fifteen years before.

And so, in a little not-so-very-far-off Broadway theatre in Manhattan, this rugged Colorado man and a very different girl than he was used to crossed paths.  Oddly, or not so oddly, chemistry flowed between us right away. Even as a Dominant, I have a particular attraction to strong men, somewhat older, and especially to the bright and articulate sorts that can spar with me verbally before we ever get to the bedroom power exchange. This new man was that sort and as Timothy walked me home from the theatre the night Sean and I were introduced I told my friend, "there's an actor I'm interested in."

"Oh God," Tim responded, taking note of my expression, "you have that horrible little faraway look on your face and that bordering on evil little wry smile. Does this poor idiot even know what he's in for?"

"Not likely, but I think he'll learn to like it."

"What if he's gay?" Tim teased.

"Not likely."

"Oh they all are in theatre, aren’t they?"

"I don't think this one is, Tim,” I replied rolling my eyes.  “You'll meet him at the set build this weekend, you tell me what you think."

Tim's response a few days later at the build was a resounding, “not gay but, damn it, I wish he were. Also, not sub, but I'm betting you wish he were."

The thing is that I knew already. No, Sean hadn't come out and said anything and neither had I but it is, as Timothy had said over martinis, "all about interpreting the right signs." Sean had replaced Tim as my escort home a few weeks into the rehearsal process, and as we walked out the stage door together one night, into the empty side alley, Sean pulled me to him and kissed me. I slipped my fingers through his hair, knotted them there and pulled him gently but firmly away from me. Holding him there in silence, I stared directly into his eyes until he began to speak, "I thought..." I pulled him to me, forced his lips apart with my tongue and made sure he knew that I was kissing him. "Give me your tongue," I whispered, and he complied, quivering almost imperceptibly as I bit it gently then sucked before pulling his head back and forcing my way into his mouth again. His hand crept up to cup my breast, and I stopped it, holding him firmly by the wrist, my other hand still tangled in his dark hair. At last, when I was ready I broke the kiss.

"I'm glad you finally worked up the notion to kiss me," I criticized. "I was beginning to wonder what the hold up was."

"Well there won't be any 'hold up' before I 'work up the notion' to do it again," he replied, moving to kiss me a second time. "I won't make that mistake twice."

"You won't be able to," I grinned, catching his chin in my hand and stopping his advance. I held him there a moment, my fingertips gently underneath his chin, keeping him at my preferred distance, watching his eyes, reading his reaction. I gently pulled him closer, until our lips nearly touched then, again, paused. "From now on," I purred, flicking my tongue across his lower lip before biting it gently, "I'll let you know when I want to be kissed." I pushed him away with a smile on my face. "Take me home now."

I left Sean standing on my front stoop, and when I reached my third floor flat and looked down out of the window, he was still standing there. I didn't bother to watch and see how long he'd remain, I went into my bathroom, filled the tub with hot water and jasmine and soaked myself - relaxing in the near scalding water and stroking myself gently to the thoughts of my next encounter with the cowboy.

It was three days before I paid mind to Sean again outside of the teasing I heaped upon him in front of the rest of the cast. He took it with a smile, casting his eyes down in a show of sudden shyness when I held his gaze for too long. Finally, after Thursday night's performance I announced to him as I passed by the men's dressing room that he was walking me home. When we were finally alone, the cold Spring rain providing an excuse for him to nuzzle closer, he said to me, "Paige?"

I paused, making him wait. "Yes?"

"I would like to kiss you again. I very much enjoyed it the other night."

"I'll kiss you again then." I stopped and took his chin in my hand, gently turning his face to one side and then the other, looking him up and down, appraising the man that could break me quite easily in two and take what he wanted but who was, nevertheless, standing still under my inspection. "Take me to your apartment." He didn't respond, only took my hand and led me the next two blocks.

Inside Sean's apartment, I turned the lock behind us and stood in his entryway, again giving him the opportunity to be impulsive and make a move for me, but he remained standing quietly, only his eyes and quickened breath betraying his desire. I closed the distance between us, grabbing him by the back of the neck and simultaneously pulling him toward me and shoving him roughly against the wall. He moaned, his hands instinctively going to my waist and working their way upwards. I grabbed his wrists and pinned his hands to his sides, then moved one of mine up to his neck, gently gripping. "Not so fast,” I whispered, "I plan on playing a little first, amusing myself at your expense."

I walked Sean backward, still kissing and biting at him, towards his bedroom. Backing him up to his own bed as I undid the buttons down the front of his shirt. I pulled the shirt open, sliding it over Sean’s shoulders, letting my fingernails play across his flexing chest, feeling the muscles tighten beneath my fingertips, tickling and scratching him as I went. As I brushed across his nipple Sean gasped, suppressing a moan. "Oh," I teased, "I think we may have liked that. Someone's a little sensitive." I took a fingernail and circled the nipple, gently working it between my fingertips until it was hard and my cowboy was whimpering in anticipation. I pinched it a little harder, leaned forward and let my tongue play around it but not touch, my hot breath causing Sean to squirm. He tried again to put his hands on me and I drew back, shaking my head. "Do you need a little help remembering what I said?" I asked, and slipped his shirt down to his wrists, leaving his chest and arms bare. I twisted the shirt behind him, tightening the remainder of the fabric around his wrists and behind his back into a rudimentary but workable form of bondage. His hands now secure, I pushed Sean down onto his bed and straddled him, using my legs to force his apart, grabbing the bulge in his pants with one hand and continuing to tweak and tease his nipples with the other.

He lay moaning under my ministrations, squirming up to try and kiss me or nip at me now and again, each time being put back into his place beneath me with a sharp tug to his hair or twist of his nipple. I stood at last, slipping out of the long coat I wore to the theatre on rainy days, revealing the black thigh highs and garters I had planned for our first bedroom encounter and the matching black push up that cupped my size C breasts. Sean gasped and started to sit up but I straddled him again, rubbing myself against his cock straining against his still zipped jeans. I took his nipple in my mouth, sucking it while biting slightly, his moans increasing, his breathing shallow as his body bucking against mine.

I had intentionally made my makeshift bonds loose, I knew I could tease Sean to the point of breaking them, and as I sucked and humped him into a frenzy he didn't disappoint me - one arm slipped free and he reached to grab my breast. I was ready, and slapped him hard across the face, pulling one knee up between his spread legs and resting it on his cock. We both froze - Sean out of surprise and uncertainty, me waiting to see what he would do with those emotions.

At last I cupped his face in my hands, kissing him gently, soothing him back into security. "You never showered after the show today," I whispered. "Perhaps it would do you good to take a minute to do that." He nodded, but remained beneath me, unmoving. "What are you waiting for?" I asked.

He paused, and when he found his voice it came so quietly I could barely hear his response, "permission."

"What was that?" I asked him.

A little more loudly this time, the answer came, "I'm waiting for your permission Miss."

"Good boy. You will please me a great deal, I can tell," I replied, taking his hand and brushing his fingertips across my now wet panties. "Now go." His body moving under me as his rose from the bed to go shower made me think of his stories from the ranch in Colorado, and I wondered if this is what it felt like to saddle up a horse, knowing it had the ability and the power to take you down any time the notion struck it, but trusting your control and your will over it. I decided it may be similar, yet still decidedly more pleasurable to have this sub between my legs and to be riding him...