by Sabrina York
My gaze fell upon Mark’s now flaccid penis, lying limp against his thigh. Hard to believe just how much larger it got when aroused, although my still tingling ass would remember it for quite some time. Mark noticed my gaze and smiled, his own eyes passing over my body often and appreciatively.
As we talked, we managed to demolish quite a bit of his thoughtfully prepared feast. Clearing the remnants of our late night snack, we cuddled on the bed, my head on his chest and our bodies lightly pressed against one another.
Entirely comfortable in his arms I could feel my eyelids start to get heavy. Between the long work week, two glasses of champagne, anxiety over our impending date and several truly mind blowing orgasms, I could feel myself drifting off.
“Mark,” I murmured softly as sleep started to overtake me, “thank you.”
My last coherent thought was “how am I going to go two weeks before seeing this man again?”
Volume Three: Bondage Ballet
Prologue
I am not a morning person. Even on the best of days my staff knows to steer clear of me until well after the caffeine has kicked in. Monday mornings in particular I truly believe were invented by sadistic demons in one of Dante’s lower circles of hell.
So why on this Monday morning, before my second cup of coffee was finished, was I sitting in my office with a smile from ear to ear?
From Friday evening until now my emotions rode quite the roller coaster of unbelievable highs and unexpected lows. The weekend started with pleasures outside of my previous realm of experience and left me feeling quite content to fall asleep naked and warm snuggled into Mark’s chest.
I awoke early Saturday morning to a full bladder and an arm draped across my body from behind. I had that half-second moment where I was not fully awake and aware of whose arm that could possibly be.
Mark must have been having a really good dream or re-enacting the previous evening in his sleep, because I could feel him swelling against my bottom once again. Slowly and gently prying his left hand from my breast, I slid out from under his arm and made my way into the bathroom. I could not help but smile at my tousled hair in the mirror. I certainly enjoyed the actions of the previous evening that led to it looking this way.
After draining two glasses of champagne and other assorted fluids from a surprisingly high number of orifices, I crept back to the bed. Standing there naked, I watched Mark sleep peacefully for a few moments as I weighed climbing back into bed versus slipping into my dress and out the door.
It seems strange, and almost a little selfish to admit, but I really wanted to sneak out and be alone to savor the memories from the previous night. Despite how well the previous evening had gone, I think I was hesitant to cast the light of day upon our most unusual dalliance.
Feeling a bit like the proverbial heel, I quietly slipped my dress over my head and stuffed the bra and panties into my small handbag. I jotted a quick note on a pad of paper by the phone:
Mark,
Please forgive me for not waking you or saying goodbye this morning. Falling asleep in your arms last night (and everything that came before it) was truly amazing. You made me feel things I have never felt in my life. I hope you understand me wanting to be alone with my thoughts this morning. I look forward to our next alphabetical adventure, as soon as I can sit down comfortably again – of course.
Summer
Picking up my pumps, I left the lace blindfold folded neatly on the note and slipped out the door.
Smoothing out the dress that spent less time on me than it did on the hotel room floor, I rode the elevator down and mentally prepared myself for the walk of shame across the hotel lobby. Of course no one even noticed, nor cared, as a different clerk was on duty than the night before. I smiled inwardly as I still managed to turn his head, disheveled appearance and all. Then I remembered that my bra and panties were in the little bag in my hand instead of underneath the little black dress that clung to me like a second skin. The clerk was getting quite a show to go with his early morning coffee.
1
Getting into my car, I pulled out my cell phone and sent a quick text message to my best friend Julie.
Headed home. Warm, safe and happy. We’ll talk more later. Shine!
I had sent her a quick email the previous evening with details about where I was going to be and the hotel room number, just in case. I trusted Mark or else I would not have gone to his hotel room alone, but I still hedged my bets a little. Julie knew that unless I called or texted her by 10:00am, she was to start making phone calls. Perhaps that would have been too little too late, but it made me feel better to some degree about stepping so far out of my comfort zone. We really got into the whole clandestine aspect and included a code word at the end of the message, just in case she doubted it was really me. The word shine was kind of a play on my first name, as in summer sunshine. A bit silly I guess, but it was the best we could come up with after three bottles of wine a couple of nights ago.
Initially through my first meeting with Mark and the subsequent website wooing, I had intentionally kept what was transpiring from Julie. Looking back I really don’t know if I was expecting that she would find fault with my choices or that she would be encouraging me to go. I was on such a precipice that I think subconsciously I did not want anyone, not even my best friend, to sway me one way or another.
I finally decided after agreeing to give up control to Mark that I should let someone I trusted know what I was doing, even if it was only to have someplace for the search party to start looking.
Over white wine and Chinese food late one night, after Julie wrestled her brood into bed and her husband immersed himself in some sporting event, I laid out for her what had happened since my first email from Mark.
She laughed out loud at my description of outrage after Mark left me sitting in that hotel bar, despite the thong and low-cut top. She sprinted to get her laptop so I could bring up the website Mark had set up for me and show it to her, although the only thing on it currently was his last message about the hotel and the blindfold.
Since Julie knew me better than anyone, she was shocked to hear that I was willingly giving up control to Mark, or at all for that matter. She started to speak, thought better of it and drained her wine glass instead. Glancing at the living room where her husband sprawled out snoring, she laughed and said, “I’m tempted to call my mother-in-law and ask her how she likes the sudden deep freeze down there in Hell.”
“I’m equal parts nervous, excited, scared and thrilled for you,” she said. “And perhaps even a little envious.”
Her comment took me by surprise for a moment. I had always envied her stability, family and close relationship with her husband. I suppose her comment only goes to show that things are not always as rosy on the other side of the glass as they appear.
We laughed and plotted as we killed a third bottle of wine. She made me promise to tell her the details about where and when I was meeting Mark and tried to extract a further promise of “full orgasmic disclosure.”
I told her I would consider it, but as she knew already, I was not one to discuss my feelings or my personal life very easily. Then again, being as closed off emotionally as I had been during my marriage did not seem to have paid much in the way of positive dividends.
2
Picturing an old pair of sweats and a steaming cup of Earl Grey tea awaiting me, I drove slowly through the early morning rain toward home. My mind drifted as I replayed the previous evening in my head. Mark had been a pleasant surprise to me – confident, sexy, funny and in control. He conducted my passion and played the strings of my desire like a symphonic scientist. As I thought about his hot breath, first on the back of my neck and then later on my inner thighs, my nipples pulsed in time with the windshield wipers. Given that at least one of those nipples was being held closely only a short time ago, I mentally berated myself for removing it from Mark’s grasp.
Arriving home, I went inside and put the tea kettle on to boil
before heading to my bedroom to change. Slipping the little black dress over my head, I stood naked for a moment and contemplated a long, hot shower. Deciding I wanted to savor Mark’s scent on my skin just a little while longer, I slipped on some old comfy sweats and headed back to the kitchen.
Pouring boiling water over my Earl Grey, I looked around the empty room. A sudden realization came to me that my grand idea of being alone to savor the memories of the previous night had left me just that – alone. Somehow the house seemed a little more empty than usual.
As I sat sipping my tea and checking my email, I reached for my phone again and sent Julie another text message.
Home safe. Too early in the day for wine?
A few minutes later as I put the empty tea cup in the sink, my phone buzzed with a return text.
Never too early for wine. On my way.
Given it was early enough that most of the city was probably still fast asleep, I doubted we would be uncorking any vino, but it was nice to know that Julie was headed over.
I climbed in a hot shower and scrubbed away any essence of Mark left over from the previous night. I was feeling a little wistful and could not put my finger on the exact reason for it. By the time I put my hair up in a towel and threw on a soft robe, Julie had let herself in and was making coffee in the kitchen.
She took one glance at me and said, “Well, how was he?”
“Let us just say that I never knew sex could be like that. It certainly wasn’t like that when I was married to Bob,” I replied.
A quick flash of what could have been envy crossed her face as she looked at me. “Yeah, you are certainly glowing a bit this morning. So what on earth are you doing here with me instead of waking up to round two?”
Taking some light cream out of the refrigerator, I glanced over at her and said, “Technically it would have been round four, for me anyway.”
There was no mistaking the envy on her face this time, along with a healthy dose of disbelief.
“So again I have to ask, what are you doing here with me? Did he ask you to leave? Did he have somewhere better he had to be?”
I took a sip of my hazelnut cream coffee before I responded.
“I had to get up and use the bathroom and instead of getting back in bed, I snuck out the door. I thought it would be nice to come home and savor the memories from last night.” I trailed off as I said this last part. Saying it out loud, it sounded about as ridiculous as I suddenly felt.
Making it up as I went along I continued, “I thought the whole waking up this morning and getting dressed in front of one another part was going to be a little awkward.”
Another look flashed across Julie’s features at this, one I had seen before and knew all too well. Pity mixed with exasperation.
“You got scared,” she said.
For the entirety of our long friendship, one thing Julie had always excelled at was cutting through the layers of bullshit and getting to the heart of the matter.
The pity changed slightly to sympathy as she dissected me further. “You gave up control for once in your life, willingly, and it scares you how much you liked it. Running out the door was your attempt, albeit pathetic, at regaining a little control.”
3
The rest of my weekend seemed to drag as I had way too much time alone with my thoughts. Proving just how powerful one’s mood can truly be, my cozy and warm home all of sudden seemed cavernous and lonely.
Wallowing in my own self-inflicted feelings, I checked my email and Mark’s website frequently. Nothing. Had I driven him away by leaving without so much as a goodbye?
By the time Monday morning rolled around, I was eager for the distraction of work. I had managed to lose myself in reviewing a few status reports when my assistant Melissa knocked on the door frame.
“You have a delivery downstairs,” she said. “It should be up in a minute.”
Sure enough, a moment later the same delivery man who delivered the beautiful roses from Mark a few weeks ago filled the doorway. He was not carrying flowers, but rather a small gift-wrapped box.
“Delivery for Ms. Summer Daniels,” he grinned. “Just sign here. I was asked to wait a minute to see that you opened it.”
Slowly tearing off the paper, I laughed out loud as I unwrapped an inflatable seat cushion and a small note.
To help you sit more comfortably today.
The delivery man left without a word and reappeared after a moment with a beautiful bouquet of roses. This time there were a dozen bright red roses with a single yellow one in the center. Tied again to the center rose was a small envelope with a note inside.
I miss you already. Go check our website.
After thanking and tipping the delivery man, I turned to Melissa and started to speak.
“I know,” she interrupted with a smile, “close the door on my way out.”
Turning to my computer, I brought up the website. The familiar old piece of scroll parchment filled the screen.
Summer,
Thank you for a truly wonderful evening on Friday. I have to admit it was not what I expected. It was much more than that.
To be completely honest, I was quite disappointed to find you gone when I awoke Saturday morning. However, I did appreciate the note and your feelings behind it. I hope the rest of your weekend went well.
I hope you are looking forward to our next evening together as much as I am.
Mark
Mark of course had no way of knowing the rest of my weekend was spent in quiet introspection and more than a little regret. Not regret for having opened myself up to him in the first place of course, but regret for sneaking out on him Saturday morning.
It was going to be a long two weeks.
4
Over the next few days, my thoughts turned occasionally to what Mark might have in mind for our coming meeting. Naïve as I was about sex up until this point in my life, I did have unlimited internet access and an inquisitive nature. I was aroused by a lot of what I found and appalled by some as well.
I thought I had a fairly good idea of what Mark had planned in terms of the letter “B” for our next evening together, but I had already been surprised several times in the short time I knew him.
A small envelope delivered to work two days before our next date once again pointed me in the direction of our website. Whatever else you wanted to say about Mark, the man had style.
Summer,
Same time. Same place. Same blindfold. Remember your safe word and try to relax.
Mark
Feeling like I would rather see his face than put on the blindfold again, I nonetheless was eager to see Mark. As Friday evening finally came around I readied myself for whatever the evening had in store. After a long hot shower, I picked a short red dress out of my closet that I slipped over some brand new red lace lingerie.
Figuring I might surprise Mark this time, I decided to wear my hair in a braid. I threw a little something extra into my handbag that I thought might bring Mark a smile.
Continuing the flaming red ensemble, I applied the same shade of lipstick to match my nail polish; fire engine red. Matching stilettos completed the look. It easily had to have been a decade since I wore heels this high. If I could survive the walk from the car to the elevator without breaking an ankle, I’d consider the night a success.
Driving toward the hotel, my excitement for the evening began to climb. It was nice to feel the apprehension I felt towards our previous encounter be replaced by anticipation.
The same hotel desk clerk as two weeks ago widened his eyes in appreciation as I teetered across the lobby towards the elevator. Arriving at the door to Room 1147, the black lace blindfold awaited me once again. Sliding the blindfold on, I took a deep breath and knocked twice on the door.
5
The door opened in front of me and I expected to hear Mark’s warm and welcoming voice. I heard nothing of the sort. A hand closed around my wrist and slowly pulled me into the room.
Ta
king my cue from Mark’s silence, I remained quiet and waited to see what was going to happen.
“My intention was to remain completely silent to lend a slightly foreboding air to the beginning of the evening. It should have been easy to do since you once again have rendered me speechless with your beauty. I’m tempted to go bang on hotel room doors until I find someone with a digital camera, but instead you’ll have to simply remain there for a moment while I capture this moment in my mind.” Mark spoke quietly from directly in front of me.
“You are a true vision of loveliness and I am honored by your presence here this evening.” Behind me now, Mark spoke again as he lightly nuzzled the back of my neck, sending shivers racing down my spine.
Mark gently raised my arms high above my head from behind, trailing his fingertips down the inside of my upper arms before tracing them lightly over my breasts. My nipples were quick to answer the call this evening, rising prominently under the lace bra and pushing against the thin red dress.
Mark must have bent down, as I felt his hands on both calves, then quickly trailing upwards. His fingers followed the curves up over my thighs and the swell of my ass, gently raising the dress around my waist. A barely audible sigh escaped his lips as he felt the red lace panties under his touch.
His hands continued their journey upward, gathering the dress higher and finally up over my head. Cupping my breasts, Mark pressed himself against me from behind. Feeling his arousal against my nearly naked ass only served to inflame the embers of my own desire.
Raising my wrist, Mark gently kissed the back of my hand and then slipped something soft over it. Cinching what I assumed was a slipknot tight over my right wrist, he quickly pulled my other arm behind me and secured my hands together.
