Infinity (2)

She woke to the sound of the sea, needing to pee so badly that she wondered if she’d make it to the bathroom without leaking. Thankfully the en suite was close. She sat on the potty, feeling the almost sexual satisfaction of release. She’d been dreaming, she thought, of swimming. That dip in the pool last night had done wonders for her, not to mention the exhaustion of a trans-continental flight. She’d slept like a rock, dreaming of waves and water and sparkling lights. A sigh of deep contentment stretched into a wide yawn.  Stretching as her flow stopped, she finally rose from the pot, deciding to head into the exquisite shower. Thick glass walls encircled her, yielding a tantalizing look towards the ocean. On the inside wall, more glass, etched to not reveal her body in the center section, but clear at the top and bottom of the panels. On the wall, an amazing array of jets, knobs, buttons enticed. Feeling a bit like an explorer in a foreign land, she spent a happy time figuring out how to use them. Not all of them, but certainly enough that she was very clean and tingly when she was done. A thick towel bundled her hair as she strolled naked through the house.

“Boys howdy, this is one fantabulistic room,” she exclaimed as she re-discovered the kitchen. Last night she’d only passed through, too tired to even think about eating. Now she was starving. While cooking wasn’t exactly her forte, this room had tons of bells and whistles, which would, she hoped, help make the odious task of food prep seem marginally more appealing. Across the room, a long granite counter ran in a curving arch. Trailing her fingers across it, she tried to imagine actually living here. Like, forever, and not just for the next three months. This room…the whole house, actually, was so very different from her east coast lifestyle, with its smaller, darker rooms. And hello…snow. She looked around to where tropical plants nestled into nooks throughout the capacious room, and beyond to the outdoors where the faint outlines of palm trees were barely visible in the predawn light. Here, nature lived as much inside as out. It was sleek, modern, without being obnoxious about it. No matter where she stood she could see the ocean.  A large crystal bowl of fruit sat to the side of the cooktop. A small scrub sink was in the center. A pan rack hung over all.

“Now let’s see if they…” she whisked open a cabinet door. “…and they did! Yay!”

The agent had taken a list of her food requirements, promising to stock the house with all her favorites. It took her a minute to find the refrigerator, disguised as part of the rock wall. That too contained all she had asked for. There were veggies for salads, as well as the all-important milk for her tea. Opening drawers, she found cheese, eggs, bacon–everything she had put on that list. Amazing. How neat that she didn’t have to run out on her first day and find her way to the grocery store. She’d need to hug her editor the next time they met for suggesting this ‘runaway’ spot as she labored through her current novel.  Who had known that ‘soft porn’ would sell so well that her publisher would agree to put her up in such luxurious surroundings? Then again, she had sold two books that were still on the top 100 book list. Not bad for a porn writer, she thought. Now to figure out what to have for breakfast.

She spent a happy hour hunting through the kitchen as she brewed tea, cooked toast, scrambled up some bacon and eggs. Taking her fiesta-ware plate to the breakfast nook, she couldn’t help the happy sigh. The nook was half-round, and looked like a small turret hanging out over the ocean. She opened one window a bit, shivering as the cool morning air moved across her bare skin.

She realized she was living just as one of her characters would…naked. The thought made her smile, because she was as unsubmissive as they came. At least, that’s what her former Dom had told her. That she was “uncooperative” and “unyielding”. That he was not interested in ‘taming’ her but having her come and sit like a good slut at his feet.

She shook her head.

Yeah. That stung. That he made her feel like she wasn’t a “good enough” submissive. Shaking her head again, she looked out at the ocean. Well, fuck him. Just another of the million reasons why she’d agreed to fly all this way to write.

In fucking paradise. Yup, this was certainly a sacrifice. She pushed away thoughts of her former lover, and raised her mug in a silent toast to her tropical oasis.

The sun broke over the hills behind the house, illuminating the pool, and the curved edge of the cliffs in the distance. Everything was outlined in a pure, golden light. Her chin rested in her cupped palm taking it all in, until her towel gave in to the effects of gravity and fell off. The resulting cascade of cold wet hair jolted her from her reverie. Grabbing her unruly mane before it fell into the eggy remains on her plate, she drew the damp and chilly towel over her shoulders, and carried her dishes to the sink.


She was up early, as was to be expected. Still on east-coast time. It took some effort to control himself from heading over to knock on her door and introduce himself. Yet this was the time that self-restraint was most critical. He watched as the curve of back and breast were revealed to him in teasing glimpses as she moved around the kitchen, until she moved out of the room, and out of his view.

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