Eleven

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Eleven Page 7

by Karen Rodgers


  On the other side of the entryway was the opening to the dining room. There was a long chiseled wood dining table with chairs on one side and a long bench on the opposite. Three large windows behind the table looked out onto the mountain terrain.

  The end of the entryway opened up into the great room which like the ranch house, had floor to ceiling windows. The view was incredible. I could see the lights of the city below twinkling in the distance.

  The kitchen was part of the great room. The 16 foot wall was covered to the ceiling with multi-toned turquoise and brushed silver rectangular tiles. The dark cabinetry was a beautiful contrast. A large, expansive cooking island and seating area completed the space. This was definitely a showplace for entertaining.

  The walls were strangely devoid of décor. No paintings or pictures—just bare painted or tiled surfaces.

  The driver courteously stated, “I’ll place your luggage in the master room. If you will be so kind as to follow me, I will show you the way.”

  He continued down the hallway off the right side of the great room, which led to the bedrooms. The master suite was located around two corners at the end of the hallway. It was past a small sitting room and was quite isolated and private.

  “Will that be all, ma’am?” the driver politely inquired.

  “Oh, yes sir. Thank you,” I said, while trying to dig around in my purse to retrieve a tip for him.

  He noticed me fumbling with my purse and said, “Oh, no ma’am. That won’t be necessary—not necessary at all!”

  He continued, “Should you require any assistance, please page me by dialing 1 on the telephone and I will be at your disposal. I was instructed to invite you to make yourself at home. Please feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I have placed fresh towels for you in the bathroom. The man of the house should be arriving approximately 10:00 pm. Again, please do not hesitate to ring if you need anything at all.”

  He seemed genuinely surprised at my friendliness when I reached out to shake his hand and thanked him for being so kind—and for the ride from the airport.

  “You’re quite welcome, ma’am. It was my pleasure,” he said, “my pleasure, indeed.”

  And with that, he exited the house to park the car. I supposed he was both driver and butler. I assumed his living quarters were somewhere in the near vicinity, since he apparently was at my disposal. He was a very formal, but kind man.

  I wandered into the kitchen and found some sliced fruit and cheese. I also spotted a covered tray of chocolate dipped strawberries, but decided not to take any of them. They might have been prepared for another occasion. I grabbed a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge and sat down at the counter to have a bite.

  I found a separate butler’s kitchen just to the side of the main kitchen. I washed the plate and utensils I had used and set them in a wooden dish rack on the counter. I took my bottle of sparkling water to the master suite. It was 8:20 New Mexico time, so I figured I should have plenty of time to relax from my flight and freshen up before he arrived home.

  The master bath was luxurious. It also had a large soaking tub which was set into a natural Silestone tiled encasement. The shower also featured a Silestone wall that had an inset of variegated amethyst colored glass and brushed stainless steel tiles. The rest of the shower area was encased in glass. A window above the tub opened into the master bedroom.

  Across from the bath and shower area was a large maple vanity with a Silestone slab top. It had double sinks. The colors of the room were soothing purple and sage with brushed stainless steel fixtures. A large framed mirror was on the wall which matched the length of the vanity.

  As expected, a pottery vase containing a bouquet of lavender and sage was on the corner of the bath’s ledge.

  I quite enjoyed the warm water of the rain shower as it cascaded from overhead. I had never been to a spa, much less a house, that was this posh. I loved the organic soap. It had a scent that was indigenous to the Santa Fe area; vague hints of sage, spices and pinon pine. I took one last measure of making sure everything was closely shaved and bare, with the exception of the narrow strip of hair left from a recent Brazilian wax.

  After toweling off, I put on a thick robe which I assumed belonged to him. I tousled my hair and softly dried it into loose, flowing curls. I accented my eyes with smoky shadow, lining the rims with Kohl. I highlighted the apples of my cheeks with softly shimmering blush and swiped Vixen lipstick across my full bottom lip and the bow of my upper lip.

  This was not going to be a night of questioning or holding back. I was going to make sure this would be the night of a lifetime; the one he had fantasized about—a night he would never forget.

  I returned the robe to the hook on the door. I slipped the straps of the studded leather bra over my shoulders and fastened the clasp in front. Then I stepped into the matching thong and carefully eased it up over the curve of my hips.

  Then I pulled my hair up and teased it into a wild up-do, which exposed the length of my neck. There! I exhaled and looked into the full length of my reflection in the mirror. I was groomed to perfection. I felt confident—and very powerful.

  The clock read 9:52. I had just enough time to hustle my boots, choker, gloves—and myself into the theater before I heard his keys turning the lock of the front door.

  I heard the sound of his boots walking through the entryway and veer off, down the hallway. Whew! I barely escaped being caught.

  I had left a hand-written note for him on the bed that he could not miss.

  ~ Good evening, Mister ~ Please relax ~ Take your time ~ Enjoy a shower~ Then meet me in the theater ~ Be ready ~

  As I sat in alone the theater, I slipped on the thigh-high leather boots. I fastened the choker and pulled the long black satin gloves I had purchased to go with my outfit up my arms, past my elbows. Then I covered myself in a long, black trench coat that was belted at the waist.

  Damn it! I forgot the CD! Shit!

  Steadying myself on the precarious platform of the boots, I sneaked into the hallway; making every attempt not to get caught. I tried to be as quiet as possible as I sneaked into the bedroom to retrieve the CD out of my purse. Once I located the CD, I glanced up to make sure I had not been seen.

  There he was. I could see him showering in the reflection in the long wall mirror. He was facing the other way. I was frozen in fascination at the sight of his naked body. As he shampooed his hair, the stream of bubbles trailed down his tanned back to his firm buttocks. I was overcome at the sight of his chiseled physique. It was impossible to tear my gaze away from his body. The sound of my heartbeat was deafening. The pace of my breath was becoming short and quick.

  He turned around to rinse. I saw the shampoo and water trail down his chest. My eyes followed it down his body—down, down, down. I leaned forward a bit, praying he would not open his eyes and see me before the shampoo was completely rinsed from his face.

  Every part of him—I mean every delicious inch of his body was no less than magnificent.

  I stealthily made my escape back into the theater. I turned on the dim lights briefly and located the CD player and remote. I loaded the CD, turned the lights off, and waited.

  In my gloved hands, I held a long silk scarf. This was my time to take control. I would hold a power over him unlike any other woman he had ever known. I had taken the black leather outfit as a suggestion. It had indicated what he desired from me. Our telephone conversations had confirmed my suspicions. He was a dangerous man that desired an equally dangerous woman.

  This is when the benefit of all my past experiences flourished into my advantage. I was comfortable in my own skin. The once lithe body of my youth had blossomed into a toned, voluptuous woman. All inhibitions had been shed. I was able to discern what made him tick.

  Unlike the previous women he had known, I did not come from wealth or privilege. But I embodied the physicality of his desire. I fit the mold he had designed for his perfect match. That night, I would become the
woman he had fantasized about. I knew once the image of me was branded into his mind, it would stay there for eternity.

  After all, I had discovered in him the man of which my fantasies had been born. It was time to return the favor to him in full measure.

  I would make him ache for me. I would drive him crazier than he had ever imagined. Tonight I would grab the bull by the horns and ride him like there was no tomorrow.

  I was already aching for him.

  I heard soft footsteps down the hallway. I saw the shadow of his form approach the doorway of the theater.

  He timidly questioned, “Are you in here?”

  “Yes,” I answered.

  Then I instructed him in a firm tone, “Come in. Take a seat.”

  He did as he was told. I had placed a chair in the center of the room, in front of the double fireplace. The flames behind him flickered, giving the room a warm glow that danced upon the walls.

  I stood up and walked over to where he was sitting. He looked me up and down, smiling in astonishment. I leaned over and whispered, “Give me your hands, Mister.”

  He lifted his hands. I lightly draped the red silk scarf over both wrists in a figure eight weave. I gave the ends of the scarf a tug to make sure he was properly bound; then tied them snugly in a double knot.

  As I walked behind him, I commanded him in the most sensual tone I could muster, “Don’t move a muscle. You can look, but you cannot touch. If you even think about touching me, I will stop what I am doing. Do you understand?”

  He flashed a grin strained with desire, eagerly nodded, and answered, “Yes, ma’am.”

  This time, I had planned every detail. I was the one in control. I removed the CD remote from my pocket and pressed the play button. The slow, erotic beat of ‘I am the Highway’ by Audioslave began to emanate from the surround-sound speakers.

  I walked around to stand in the middle of the room, directly in front of him. I slowly began to move to the music while undoing the belt on my trench coat. Each button was undone methodically. I teased him by partially opening the right side of the coat, then closing it. Then I did the same with the other side, giving him a slight peek at the left side of my body.

  His eyes followed the length of my body. It was now apparent to him that I was wearing the black leather outfit he had chosen for me. A warm look of approval was on his face.

  I continued to sway to the music and turned my back to him. Slowly, very slowly, I allowed the coat to fall off my shoulders. It hung at the bend of my elbows and draped just above my waist.

  Then I allowed the coat to fall to the floor as I turned around to face him. I danced with a seductive sway of my hips. I placed one foot in front of the other; undulating my hips in a figure eight motion while my gloved hands moved wantonly all over my body. The metal studs gleamed in the firelight.

  I turned away from him again and reached up to undo the pins holding my hair in place. Arching my back, I shook the full length of my hair out. Wavy, chestnut colored locks cascaded down my back and brushed the top of my ass.

  With legs slightly spread, I languidly bent over and grabbed the ankles of my boots with both gloved hands, giving him a full view of my most intimate place, veiled only by the thin leather strip of the thong.

  At this point, he sighed, “Oh, my God!”

  I deliberately stroked my hands up the full length of my legs as I moved to an upright position again. Still dancing to the music, I turned to face him again. He was struggling with his silky restraint. I saw the frustrated desire building up in him.

  I shook my finger from side to side and reminded him, “Oh, no, no, no. Don’t move. Don’t try to touch me.”

  His arms relaxed and fell into his lap. He was only wearing a pair of long pajama pants. I noticed the obvious evidence of his excitement bulging underneath, pushing the waist of his pants upward.

  Just then, the CD whirred and the next song began to play—‘Father Figure’ by George Michael. I had carefully chosen the music to set the right mood. It was time for me to touch him.

  As the song began, I walked behind him again. He could feel the cool metal studs of my bra against the back of his neck as I leaned over and moved my satiny gloved hands over his shoulders and down his chest.

  Then I moved around and straddled his chair, placing a leg on each side of him; managing not to touch him. Slowly, very slowly, I leaned toward his face. I pointed my tongue and lightly traced it around the outside edge of his lips. A deep groan escaped his mouth.

  I backed away, going down on my knees between his legs. I ran a single gloved finger along the inside edge of both his feet, then slid my hands up the legs of his pants, caressing his calves and trailing my fingers along the side of his shins. I pulled my hands from under his pants and ran them firmly up the inside of his thighs.

  I instructed him to stand up. As he did, I tugged on the waist of his pants with clenched teeth and pulled them down to his knees using only my mouth. I looked up as his massively engorged manhood that had sprung free from its confinement.

  My tongue gradually snaked up the inside of his thighs. When I reached his heavy balls, I lingered for a moment with my mouth open allowing my hot breath to warm them. I found a soft, sweet spot in the middle, underside of his sack and began to lightly flick my tongue against it. This elicited another groan.

  I smiled while dancing my tongue up the midline to the base of his cock. Its heaviness was straining toward me. My tongue flicked up the underside.

  I looked up into his eyes as I took him into my mouth and began working my lips back and forth, sucking, opening up my jaws to take him in deeper and deeper with each stroke.

  We both began to groan with the rhythm of my movements.

  I looked up again and saw he had somehow managed to free himself from his restraint. Overcome with lust, he looked down at me with a wicked gaze and ran his fingers through my hair. He pulled my face away from him and lifted me up and into his arms.

  “Damn, girl! You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said in a low, deep tone as he kicked off his pajama pants and swept my up in his arms.

  He carried me down the hallway then stood me on my feet at the side of the bed. He began feverishly kissing me while undoing the clasp on my bra. My breasts sprang free. He reached up with one hand and traced the choker on my neck, leaving it intact. His mouth hungrily moved from my neck down to my breasts and belly. I ran my gloved fingers through his hair as he devoured my body.

  He positioned me on the edge of the bed and pulled my thong down and off over the boots. He looked down at my body that was draped with my legs dangling over the side of the bed. He coaxed my knees apart and kneeled in front of me.

  The way he pleasured me with his tongue was exquisite. He lightly teased me with intermittent licks and light suction on my swollen, throbbing rosebud—building me up into a frenzy. By the time he was done working his magic on me, I had easily climaxed three times.

  He stood up and moved me to the center of the bed. Tenderly removing the choker and long leather boots, he climbed on top of me. Our bodies melded with entwined limbs as we engaged in passionate, needy kisses. He placed the bend of his arms against the bend behind my knees and pressed against me.

  With a gasp, a sigh, and a moan, he entered me. We became one.

  It was more significant than love. It was more tangible than lust. It was a searing, breathing, palpable existence that only those who are lucky enough to experience can fathom. It was recognizing your soul for the first time in the reflection of your lover’s eyes. There are no words that can be expressed. There is no troth or vow to be taken. It is pure knowledge—knowing you are in the arms of the one for which you were created. It can only happen once in a lifetime, if at all.

  We said nothing to acknowledge what was happening. We smiled and fell into it.

  Chapter 15

  Ringing

  We slept in late the next morning, then awoke for yet another roll in the sheets.
r />   We were breathless and spent from the sheer exhaustion of our passionate indulgence. There was desperation in our desire for one another; the likes of which, neither of us had ever experienced. We knew our lives would no longer be singularly defined. We needed one another in the most basic way to complete the entirety of our existence.

  He looked into my eyes and expressed with great tenderness, “I’ve never wanted anyone this much. I’ve never needed anyone like I need you. I need you as much as I need the air I breathe and I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You are the one I have waited for, for so long. You have completely and totally stolen my heart.”

  I returned his emotion, “You have my soul, Mister. You are my soul.”

 

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