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"Hey, Annie, I'm pleased to see you too," he mutters as he hugs me. A warm surge of gratitude and love for this uncomplicated man streaks through me, and I throw my arms around him in an uncharacteristic display of affection. I open the front door, and he's standing on the porch in his ill-fitting suit. I concentrate on my bagel and listen patiently as she runs through her Valedictorian speech. Kate comes back into the kitchen with her laptop. is that what it would be like My inner goddess jumps up and down with cheerleading pom-poms shouting yes at me. I'm a physical coward, and I will go a long way to avoid pain. But I'm not sure I have the stomach to be his submissive - deep down, it's the canes and whips that put me off. And this is what concerns me most, because I don't want to lose him. and I could jeopardize what he has offered. If I tell him I want more, he may say no. It's not how I envisaged my first romance - but, of course, Christian doesn't do romance.
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It has set hours, a job description, and a rather harsh grievance procedure. Christian's idea of a relationship is more like a job offer. My head was buzzing with various options. What on earth was that about? Last night I found it hard to sleep. I slice a bagel and pop it into the toaster. And yes, I'd love some tea." Kate races out of the kitchen. I worked on it last night over at Lilah's. "Do you want teaWould you like me to hear your speech for today?" "Yes, please.
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Incidentally, he liked your dress." The kettle has boiled, so I make myself some tea. Why are you being so coyGive it up, girlfriend." "Oh, Kate, we talked about lots things. "He doesn't approve of Wanda." "Who does, AnaThat's old news. Would that be a good summaryI try desperately to remember something from my encounter with Christian that I can discuss with Kate. What can I sayHis HIV status is clear, he's heavily into role-play, wants me to obey his every command, he hurt someone he tied to his bedroom ceiling, and he wanted to fuck me in the private dining room. How was Christian? What did you talk about?" "He was attentive," I pause. I hate oysters, and I don't want to know about the food. Followed by cod, so I'd say it was fishy." "Ugh. "Did you sleep?" "Not very well." I head for the kettle. "Yes, this is Christian's jacket." She frowns. I'm still reeling from my morning's event. Is that Christian's jacket you're wearing?" "I'm fine." Damn, should have checked in the mirror. Kate is skipping around the kitchen when I stagger in.
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I had no idea that I could orgasm in my sleep. Was it something I atePerhaps the oysters and my Internet research manifesting itself in my first wet dream. I glance at my alarm clock - eight o'clock. What the hell just happened I'm in my bedroom alone. Abruptly, I wake, gasping for breath, covered in sweat and feeling the aftershocks of my orgasm. He flicks the crop and it hits my sweet spot with a sharp slap, and I come, gloriously, shouting my release. He swirls the tip around my navel then continues to trail the leather tip south, through my pubic hair to my clitoris. I'm panting, squirming, pulling against my restraints that are biting into my wrists and my ankles. He swirls it slowly there and then continues to drag the tip down my body, along my sternum, between my breasts, over my torso down to my navel. I'm panting once more as he tugs the crop out of my mouth, trails it down and under my chin, on down my neck to the hollow at the base of my throat. He pushes the tip into my mouth so I can taste the smooth, rich leather. Reaching forward, he trails the tip of the crop from my forehead down the length of my nose, so I can smell the leather, and over my parted, panting lips. I am naked and shackled, spread-eagled on a large four-poster bed. He flicks the crop slowly into his palm as he gazes down at me. He's wearing old, faded, ripped Levis and that's all. Christian is standing over me grasping a plaited, leather riding-crop.