"Might take the edge off... you know..."
She laughed. "It's not actually too sore. Well, maybe a little..."
There was a bar just across the road from the salon, and it looked inviting enough. It wasn't too full at that time of night, even though Thursday nights were getting almost as busy as Friday nights in London these days.
"What will you have?" I asked her.
"No, let me get them," she said. "As a thank you."
I chuckled. "I haven't exactly done much..."
She smiled. "You didn't have to come out tonight. And anyway, I've got more to thank you for than just tonight."
I saw a few guys around the bar, not least the bartender, checking out Heidi's top — her nipples were still fairly prominent, and her entire bearing just seemed kind of sexy, and she wasn't even boosted by a push-up bra. I amused myself with the thought that while they were checking out her breasts, I knew what she was now concealing in her jeans.
I was impressed at how Heidi had transformed herself, and it hadn't been that long since she'd first come to me to ask for help.
I took my beer from her, and she settled up with the bartender and grabbed her glass of white wine before we drifted over to an empty table toward the back of the place. I guess I still felt a little uncertain in her company — trying to work out her agenda, I suppose. But as I'd thought, she definitely needed a drink after her salon appointment.
"Sore?" I asked her.
She shrugged. "It's okay. So... where are you taking me on Saturday?"
I smiled. "You know, I was thinking we could try Johnny's again. It was okay in there."
"I liked it."
"It seemed a little more chilled out."
"Chilled out is good."
"We'll find you a nice guy to get your lips around," I said, smiling as though I was cracking a joke, though in reality I was sounding her out — checking that she was still of the inclination that we were looking for her next boyfriend, rather than flirting around the possibility of starting up our own relationship again.
"I do have some new skills to put into practice," she said, playing ball.
"You certainly do," I agreed, and seeing her involuntarily lick her lips reminded me of how good they'd felt around my shaft, made me think how hot it would be to know she was stretching them around some new man's hardness instead.
Heidi took a swig of her wine, then said, "You think I should go further this time? I mean, if I meet the right guy..."
I raised my eyebrows. "You nearly did last time, didn't you? You took the guy home."
"I don't know. I think I intended to... you know... go down on him... but then I thought he'd finish up, maybe we'd call it a night."
"And if he'd insisted on staying?"
"I would've probably let him." She looked at me as though she was sounding me out again, assessing my opinion of her if she'd gone all the way with that guy.
I nodded. "So this time you can invite him to stay, right? If he's the right guy..."
"Is that what you want me to do?" she asked.
I said, "Does it matter what I want you to do?"
"It matters," she nodded.
I took a sip of beer. I felt a touch awkward, I guess. I said, "If you feel you want to spend some more time with him, then invite him to stay. If that seems fun to you."
"I want you to tell me what to do," she said bluntly. "That's what seems fun to me."
"Okay..." I said warily, feeling out this little request she'd made. Was that the penny dropping? Was Heidi revealing her agenda? She wanted me to tell her what to do. Did she expect me to tell her to sleep with me?
How far was she going to go with this?
If she wanted me to tell her what to do... then I felt like I needed to test her. I didn't want her thinking that we were back together. I was still primarily aiming to get her laid, to boost her self-confidence, to help her move on from what had happened to us. If I got sexual satisfaction from seeing her transformation, watching her hooking up with guys, knowing she was sleeping with someone else, perhaps someone she would call boyfriend after a few dates... well, that was my own reward for helping her.
"Okay," I said again. "What I want... first of all... is to get you laid."
"Okay," she nodded, a touch nervous now, but apparently delighted I was telling her what I wanted.
"I want you to find a guy you like at Johnny's, and when you feel up to it, invite him back to your place."
"Sure."
"And if you still like him... I want you to show him a good time."
I was blushing a little and hid my face with my glass of beer for a moment or two as it sank in what I'd told her.
Only, she didn't shoot it down. She said, "Show him a good time?"
I sighed, and glanced around the bar to make sure we weren't overheard by any eavesdroppers. Then I said under my breath, "I want you to sleep with him, okay?"
She giggled. "Sleep with him?"
Another sigh from yours truly. She was winding me up, but it was kind of hot to be telling her what I wanted her to do. I took the bait, and said, "Okay... I want you to take him into your bedroom, and slowly strip for him... show him your sexy underwear... show him how incredible you look after your little visit to the salon... "
"Uh-huh?" her cheeks were a little flushed, but she was lapping up what I was telling her.
"Then you drop to your knees and go down on him," I said, taking another sip of beer as though I needed it to cool me down. "But you don't take him all the way... then assuming he still wants to..."
"Yes?"
"Let him fuck you."
Heidi was blushing like a schoolgirl now, but she'd pushed me to say what I'd just said. After a brief hesitation to let it sink in, she looked me in the eyes and said, "Okay, I can do that. Sure." Accepting the challenge, assured in her ability to match up to the demand.
She added, "And what then? What happens once I've fucked him?"
The f-word seemed so wrong, and yet so exciting in her mouth. We were talking about some other guy actually sliding his big, hard cock inside her freshly-waxed pussy. So bizarre, but so hot.
"What would you want to do?"
"Oh no," she shook her head. "You tell me, remember? What should I do after I've fucked him?"
"You could..." I said, as pondered the issue. I wanted her to have a good time. I wanted her to find a boyfriend. How could I know what she should do after they'd fucked?
But she interrupted, "Not 'could'. Tell me what I do after he's finished fucking me. What you want me to do — not what you think I want to do."
I looked at her sitting across the table from me, her small breasts squeezed into that top, her nipples showing through as though this was some wet t-shirt contest and she'd had water tipped all down her front. I looked at her, and thought about her fucking some other guy at her apartment, with that beautifully smooth pussy of hers...
And I said, "Once you've finished with him, you need to ask him to leave. Then you take a taxi to my place and tell me exactly what happened."
I saw a faint smile flicker across her face in the moment before she remembered to hide her emotions from me. As though she'd been silently delighted at me for such an order. Because I still wanted to be involved in this strange new dating game of hers, even once she'd actually slept with another guy.
"I can do that," she said. "What if... you know... things don't go so well?"
"Then you come tell me anyway," I said. She was happy at that, too, though she did her best to conceal her reaction. "But I think if you get him home with you, he's not going to hold out on you."
She nodded.
"It might get kinda late," she warned me. "If I have time to shower, change..."
I shook my head. Felt the power. If I was telling her what to do, then I wanted to revel in the depravity of my telling her to fuck another man. "No. You're to put your clothes back on and come straight over to me," I said. "I want to see you as he leaves you."
&nbs
p; "Oh, okay," she said, and I got the impression she'd taken my hidden agenda to be something slightly different.
"You can shower at my place if you like," I said.
"I'll do whatever you want me to do."
The way she said that made it seem that this was her bottom line requirement, her overall agenda: to make me own her, to make herself my possession, even if we hadn't said we were going out, and I certainly hadn't labeled her my girlfriend.
I looked at her for a long moment, underlining the seriousness of what she'd just said. I said, "Whatever I want you to do? You mean on Saturday, at the end of the night... or generally?"
She paused, considering what I was asking, and what she was saying. Then she said, "Generally."
I breathed in, slowly, deeply, still looking in her eyes. "What right do I have to tell you what to do?"
"Maybe I'd like it if you had the right," she said, seeming gravely serious, yet avoiding telling me anything involving me once being her husband. It was as though she'd thought about this at length.
I nodded, thoughtfully, and took a sip of beer. My manhood was thickening up in my pants but rationally I felt such a response was irresponsible. In my heart I was curious to see what it would be like to possess Heidi, but in my head I was still concerned it would lead to the kind of relationship we'd had before — Heidi miserable and me tired of her.
Hardly very gallant — in my eyes, I wasn't the right person to be handed the responsibility to tell her what to do.
I said, "Objectively, I don't believe I'm the right person for you, Heidi. I don't believe we should get back together. You can do better than me."
She said, quietly, "You might not be the right person for me, but we wouldn't be getting back together. Not unless you decided we were."
"In my eyes, your best bet for happiness would be for me to help you find Mr Right."
She nodded. "And you can do that if you want to," she said. "I will do whatever you want me to do."
Another contemplative nod. I said, "Heidi, if you keep doing whatever I want to do... well, let's just say there's a danger that my own personal agenda might... get in the way."
"Your own personal agenda?"
"I may not like a guy who is actually your Mr Right. Ultimately, you should decide independently."
She said, "If you don't like a guy and you tell me that, then I stop seeing him."
I sighed. "You see... that kind of sets you up... as mine. My possession."
She nodded. "Perhaps."
"But I've said, I don't think we should get back together. You need somebody else."
"We don't have to get back together," Heidi said again, and I guessed that society's idea of a man possessing a woman was basically marriage, or at least a very paternalistic version of marriage — but what Heidi was saying was that it didn't need to be a form of marriage. "If you wanted me to have someone else, I would have someone else."
"But what, I'd supersede him?" I said, not quite believing what she was getting at.
"Always," she said.
I raised an eyebrow. "And on your wedding day, if I tell you to sleep with the best man...?"
"I'd sleep with the best man," she said.
Somehow, I was getting a little intimidated by her zeal. Heidi wasn't being a stalker ex, she was being something else entirely. Obsessed.
I said, "And if I told you never to see me again, if I told you I was no longer... going to tell you what to do?"
"Then I'd never see you again," she said. "And you'd never tell me what to do again."
I sighed, held my head in my hands, elbows on the table in front of me. I said, "Heidi... I'm sure I'm not the right person for this. What if you met someone better, someone who really could... tell you what to do... and do what's right for you?"
She laughed. "It would depend if you wanted me to see him."
"I'm selfish," I said. "I'm self-centered. I'd tell you to do things... because they make me feel good, not because they make you feel good."
"I want to make you feel good," she said. How had I ever earned this kind of devotion? Our relationship had been a flop, in any sense of the word. And right now she was looking at me as though I was the leader of some mesmerizing cult. "More than anything."
I went for another sip of beer and my glass was empty.
I pulled on my jacket, and made it clear it was time to leave. "We'd better call it a night," I said, and naturally Heidi nodded her agreement, and pulled on her own coat. She looked a touch disappointed, perhaps that I hadn't definitively agreed to be this dominant figure for her.
I said, "Heidi, if we do this..."
Her eyes seemed to light up, her face filled with hope. "Yes?"
"I want you to have the power of final veto."
"Final veto?"
"If anything happens that makes you uncomfortable, for whatever reason... if I do ask you to sleep with the best man on your wedding night and you desperately don't want to betray your new husband... you give me some kind of agreed signal."
"Signal? Like, a safe word?"
"A safe word," I nodded. "And we stop, no questions asked."
"Okay," she agreed, buttoning her coat. "And what would the safe word be?"
I paused, trying to think of some word that wouldn't be used accidentally between us. "Existential," I said. "You say it, and everything stops. We re-group."
"Fine. Only, you know what? The wedding thing... I wouldn't use a safe word in that situation."
"No?" I laughed.
She smiled. "But if I was marrying someone... I probably wouldn't want to keep secrets from them."
"Right."
"So he'd have to know that even though he was marrying me, you still had control over me."
I raised my eyebrows at that. "You know how crazy you sound?" She laughed at that.
Outside, we grabbed a taxi, and I had the driver drop Heidi off at her place before taking me on to mine. As I got home, it wasn't all that late. I nodded a quick hello to my two roommates camped out on the living room couch on my way through to my room, but then I ended up collapsing on my bed, ready for sleep.
I just kept thinking about Heidi's desire to submit to me, of all people, wondering whether it was really a good idea. That dark, hidden part of me that had struck up the fantasy of having Heidi debauch herself and then shower me with all the details... that part of me loved the idea of possessing her. Oh how much I would enjoy having her sleep with other men, then later relive the experience for my benefit, recounting all the minutia of her pleasure.
And as I settled down for the night, and switched out the light, I did find myself imagining how it might be if she did meet her Mr Right, her Perfect Prince Charming, and after they fully consummated their relationship, I demanded to sleep with Heidi myself. She would probably enjoy it, I surmised. I got the feeling she didn't just want me to dominate her, but to pay attention to her physically.
I had to admit, if this was something Heidi wanted so badly, it might be fun to try it.
I was beginning to believe that if we did this, there could be no return to the way our relationship was.
Chapter Eight
Saturday. I arrived at Heidi's place at 6:30pm, looking respectable in a blue shirt and dark pants.
"I thought you were picking me up at seven," she said as she opened her door to me.
She was wearing a tight white t-shirt and some small shorts that looked like men's boxers, and though she seemed to have only recently tumbled out of bed, there was a poise to her body that gave her a grace that hadn't been there while we'd been dating. Almost like a ballet dancer, though I knew Heidi had never taken ballet.
"Still in your PJs?" I chuckled as she stepped back to invite me in.
"I wasn't doing much today," she protested. "Just practicing. I don't need to put on clothes to play the cello."
"I suppose not."
"And anyway, I wasn't expecting you this early."
"Just keeping you on your toes," I smirke
d.
In reality, I'd spent Saturday doing even less than Heidi — a lie-in, a late breakfast at the cafe just down the street from my apartment, then knocking around my place watching football. I'd been counting the minutes until it was time to take Heidi out for another round of our little adventure, and when it got to six I'd figured it couldn't harm to get to her place early.
"Roommates around?" I asked as I followed her through her apartment to her room.
"Monica's in Paris with her boyfriend and Sally's surfing in Cornwall."
"Wow. Cue the life envy," I said.
Heidi peeled off her t-shirt and said, "I don't know... I'm quite enjoying my life right now."
She wasn't wearing a bra underneath. Her small breasts were pert, her pink nipples hard, noticeable in a way they'd never been when we were together. Something in the way she stood, in the way she stepped around her bedroom — a more arched back, perhaps, but that wasn't all of it — just emphasized her femininity in a way that gave her a completely different look somehow, even though she hadn't prepared herself for going out yet.
That poise — it was confidence, I realized, as she draped her t-shirt over her small wooden desk chair, flicked her long hair out of the way of her face, then slipped off her shorts to leave herself completely nude.
"You don't mind waiting while I shower?" she asked.
She was proud of herself, proud of her body, proud of the way I looked at her, and it reflected in a new beauty that she projected without need of make-up or perfume or fancy clothes.
"Of course not," I said. "Keep you company?"
She grabbed a towel and smiled, "That's up to you, isn't it?"
I tried to keep my eyes on hers, but damn she looked good. And there was the breathtaking sight of her pussy, looking immaculate with its tiny patch of dark hair, all the redness from Thursday's waxing session gone, leaving only smooth, clear skin around her sex.
"Come on," I said. She led me to the bathroom, handed me her towel with another little sweet smile, then stepped into the shower to grab the shower head and run the water until the temperature was just right.
"So how've you been?" I asked her as she started running the water all over her body, giving me a nice show as she did so.
Heidi, Corrupted (An Ex-Wife Sharing Romance) Page 10
