She’d gone through the house, upstairs and down on a fast first tour to get the lay of the land, and then a second turn through, taking in the details. There were enough bedrooms in the upstairs to house a ginormous family…or a lot of friends. Each was fully decorated. Each opulent, though not garishly so. Each a small suite unto itself. A little kitchenette in several, while others had balconies. Some looked out onto the gardens, on the east side, and some to the ‘forest’ in the front. Each view distinctly different, as if from different houses entirely. That in itself was enticing. There to the west, a small sparkling lake, or perhaps a large pond, glinting invitingly in the midday sunshine. And there in the back? A series of inter-woven formal gardens. Including a maze.
The man had a maze in his backyard!
It may have been ‘uncool’ to be so impressed, and likely she’d never say as much to him…but she was charmed by the house as much as she was awed by its sense of quiet splendor.
Eventually they ran into each other in the kitchen, when she finally heeded the urgent call of her tummy. He was there, noshing on a club sandwich, wrapped in white butchers paper.
He gestured with the sandwich towards the huge double fridge, his mouth chewing vigorously. She opened the door, and smiled. What a guy. An entire shelf held labeled, white-wrapped sandwiches! She found a turkey club, and a bottle of sparkling water. Turning she looked at her options. She could be unfriendly and unapproachable and eat at the breakfast bar, or she could be gracious and join him.
She pondered her choice for a moment too long, and he gestured her to sit beside him. She pointed to the chair across.
He pointed to the floor. Then the chair he’d first proposed.
With a dramatic eyeroll any sullen teen would have envied, she flounced across the room, and flopped into the chair next to him. He wasn’t quite sure he heard her say ‘fine’, but he wouldn’t have put it past her. A more truculent lass he’d never encountered.
Mentally he rubbed his hands together. This was going to be a delightful thirty days!
>)>)>) *** (<(<(<
He balled up the white paper which had wrapped his sandwich, and tossed it in a careless arc towards the sink. It bounced on the counter, then fell over the edge and into the open can below it.
She blinked. He smiled.
“First offer, little girl. If you can get your wrapper in, you get a boon from me to use whenever you choose over these next 4 weeks.”
“A boon? What are you, Sir Galahad now?” Her tone was acerbic; she couldn’t seem to avoid taking her gall out on him.
“If you choose to believe so, who am I to disagree?” He smiled carelessly at her, deftly deflecting her barb, refusing to be drawn into her pique. He knew it for what it was; the circumstances which had brought here here, rather than with Him specifically. She’d get over it…or he’d eventually get tired of it, and pull her over it.
She flushed, looked away. She wasn’t normally so rude to people. And he was going to be paying a bundle of money to her husbands creditors. And helping her divorce the buffoon. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought of having an affair. There was a guy at work who had asked, and been refused, mostly because he was a guy at work. It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to have sex…she was actually feeling pretty turned on, despite the strange circumstances. Which was odd, really. Maybe it had just been so long since she’d been fucked that anyone would do? She looked at him. No, there was definitelysomething about him that got her juices going. She sighed. She was still surprised that her husband had suggested this. Giving her away. Wasn’t there some sort of …manly pride, perhaps…in keeping the little woman close? She had thought of fucking other people. But thoughts weren’t actions.
Of course, she had thought that there was hope for her marriage. But she’d been so wrong about that. She didn’t expect perfection, but really, her husband was as far from that as one could imagine. Spending weekends in the sports bar, watching games, hanging with his friends should have been the first clue. Moving into the guest bedroom should have been the second.
Maybe that explained her lack of total outrage when he had suggested this solution. She had been shocked, horrified, when he had told her about the debt. She had been close to suggesting divorce innumerable times over the last 3 months, but this? This was appalling. How could he have done this to them?
She shook her head, pulling away from the memories. She was here, and when she was done, she would be divorced from her mistake, and ready to start again. She concentrated on balling up the paper in her hands, and prepared to take her shot.
He watched the expressions run across her expressive face. He wondered if she knew how much she revealed in these unguarded moments. If she knew how sad she looked, like a little puppy who’d been unexpectedly kicked by its owner.
“Of course,” he drawled, determined to snap her back to him, “with every dare there is a corresponding risk.”
Her hand dropped and she slapped a look at him.
“What!” she demanded. No way was she throwing the paper without knowing the full deal. He was slick, she had to give him credit for it.
“Simple,” he said at last, their eyes doing silent battle until hers finally dropped. “You win, you get the boon. I win, I get the boon.”
She flashed a glance at him, then the trash bucket. He had done it. And she had a good eye. She raised her hand, pumping it slowly, getting aim.
Drawing her arm back, she flicked her palm forward, releasing the white ball of paper. It spun through the air, flashing through a stray ray of sunlight that beamed in through one of the skylights above the breakfast nook. It bounced on the counter, nearly where his had, spun to the edge where it teetered for a second.
“C’mon, c’mon, fall….” she muttered, leaning forward in her chair.
He was surprised she’d hit so dead-on, and he leaned against her back, hand on her shoulder, cheek against her hair. She looked up at him enquiring, but his eyes stayed riveted on the bit of paper.
“Get used to me touching you,” he mumured.
She looked back at the ball as it fell from the edge. She caught her breath, triumph racing through her as it fell towards the basket.
She jumped up, but he pulled her back to her seat, wrapping his arm around her belly, just snugged up under her breasts.
The ball bounced on the rim of the basket, hung there for a moment and began its fall.
“I can’t look!”
Her head fell back on his shoulder, as his arm squeezed around her. His eyes fell to her breasts, laying upon his forearm, the heat of them, the weight of them a tantalizing mix of sensations. He lifted his arm a bit higher, pressing into the soft undersides of them.
She was breathless. Was it the arm around her lungs or simply the act of him playing with her this way that enticed air from her lungs, and made it a struggle to get more in?
She felt her nipples pearl into buds as her breasts were lightly jiggled by his arm. His warm breath moved across her ear and throat, sending little shocking shivers down directly to her pussy. Her ears had always been so sensitive to stimulation. Her nipples were large and protuberant, and pressed against her thin bra, very obvious against her equally thin blouse.
His other hand came up, his fingertip just barely brushing against those nubbins. First one, then the other. Touch, touch, wispy and light, and so erotic.
His lips teased at her earlobe, as his finger went from brushing to gently pinching at her nipples. Her eyes shut, her mouth opened, and her tongue flashed around suddenly dry lips.
Her moan surprised her. She rarely made noises during sexplay.
His voice was a jolt against the shell of her ear. His hands began releasing buttons on her blouse.
“I want you naked. Now.”
“Traitor” she muttered at the soundless ball of paper that had been her undoing. It lay on the floor a foot in front of the trash can, where it had rolled when it fell from the rim.
He laughed wickedly, delighted. The “game” was well begun!
Greetings friends….because ch 4 was so short, i decided to put ch 5 with it. There are several new stories begging to be published …all written during a marathon writing jag on Monday, which continued into Tuesday, and Wednesday and Thursday too! The only way to fit everything in was to combine these two. I love when the muse drives me this way!
And a heads up…after Fri. night i likely won’t be able to reply to any comments, so be sure to leave a ton so i’ll be swamped on Monday, okay?
Saturday is my work day, and Sunday will (at long last) be my time with Master, (yay! Happy nekkid dancing!) which means that the next time i’ll be sitting on my puter at all will be Monday. Then again, after being “forked” and spanked, and caned and fucked…i just might be *standing* at my computer come Monday…!!! And o, there will be so many more stories begging to be written!
Happy weekend, all!