Grace stood in
line at the counter of the bistro. This was her favorite lunchtime choice, with
it's fresh menu and many vegetarian options. As she waited, she got the feeling
that she was being watched, not in the casual
looking-around-while-chewing-my-food kind of way, but in the way that meant she
was the center of someone's attention. She turned inconspicuously to her left,
and was met with nothing but the usual casual glances. She took a step forward
in line, as she had advanced to one person from the order counter. Still
uncomfortable, she glanced to her right, casually swept the patio full of
al fresco diners, suddenly, she saw him, a handsome, imposing gentleman, with a
very commanding presence that rocked her back on her heels. Everything seemed
to fade from the surroundings, only she and he remained, eyes locked.
Suddenly, an
amused smile crossed his attentive face and settled comfortably on his lips. He
raised his hand and twirled his index finger, indicating for her to turn. She
started, turned, and became aware that the counter-person had had been calling,
"Ma'am, can I help you? MA'AM, you're next." Her face blazed with an
embarrassed blush, and she apologized profusely, and gave her order. She took
her tray, and eyes down, walked towards an empty table, which as luck would
have it, was behind the gentleman. As she approached his table he stood, and
pulled a chair out for her, and across her path. Her heart began to race, and
her mouth went dry. She looked up, only as far as his chest and spoke in a near
whisper, indicating the rear table, "I, umm, I was..."
A deep,
melodious, amused voice, spoke and seemed to pierce her to her core,
"Please, sit, I hate to eat alone." Her hands shook as her tray was
removed from her hands, and her meal spread on a thoughtfully spread napkin.
The gesture was enough to make her blush deepen. he stepped behind her, and
took the chair, touching it to the back of her knees, and she sat, as he placed
her chair at the table. She was sure the beating of her heart was visible from
across the table, and she clasped her hands so that their shaking could not be
seen.
He, however, had
noticed all the signs, including the slight tinge of adrenaline that mingled
with the scent of her perfume. He extended his hand, palm up, on the table in
her line of vision, and for reasons that were entirely unclear to her, she was
compelled to place her hand on his. He smiled, closed his fingers over hers,
and drew her hand to his lips. "Thomas, and I am very pleased to make your
acquaintance." Something drew her eyes to his, and she met them from under
her lashes, with a small gasp at the essence that rolled off of him in nearly
palpable waves. "I'm...my name is Grace," she murmured. He smiled,
lowering her hand and covering it with his other hand, "Quite lovely, as
are you. Your name fits perfectly." Again her cheeks blazed with a blush,
and she lowered her eyes. "Please, eat," he said and she could hear
the smile in his voice.
As they ate, his
companionable conversation put her somewhat at ease, and her attraction was
deepening in this attractive, commanding man. As they concluded their lunch,
she found a peculiar melancholy creep over her that they would part ways, and
hoped he might ask for her number. He stood and moved behind her to pull her
chair out, as she rose, and he pushed the chair in, his arm around her waist,
he spoke softly, "I would like you to come with me. You're free to say no,
and wonder what could have been. Or come with me and explore passions you have
only dreamed of." Her knees buckled and he handily caught her, and pulled
her back against him to steady her, his lips brushed her hair, "Dare I
take that as a yes?" She squeezed her eyes closed and nodded softly. She
felt his lips curl in a smile against her cheek, and he said with quiet
confidence, "Good," and helped her on with her jacket. He gathered up
their plates, in one hand, and extended his arm to her. She glanced up at him
shyly and looped her arm through his.
He escorted her
to his car, opened the door, helped her inside, and closed the door, before
circling the car and getting in himself. The ride was a blur, with her asking
herself if she was mad to be going with this handsome stranger. When they
arrived at their location, he dismounted, and came around, opened her door, and
helped her out of the car, again offering his arm. She fought the urge to turn
and run all the way to the door, knowing once on the other side it was too
late. Inside, he helped her slip out of her jacket, turned and hung it on a
hook, then turned and planted his hands on the the wall on either side of her
head, lowering his lips to her neck, she gasped, and it turned to a low moan
under his lips, then her knees buckled and she found herself drawn close to his
body, by his arm around her waist, "Careful, little one, " he
chuckled, "Come." He pushed them away from the wall and led her towards
the bedroom.
Entering the
bedroom, he turned closed the door, and turned back to her. In a voice low and
smooth as honey, he said, "Take your clothes off, please," as he
circled her. Her eyes fluttered, her breath accelerated, ragged, in her chest,
and her trembling fingers, she complied, though her brain was screaming that
she was insane. When her clothes were removed he stepped behind her, placed his
hands on her waist, pulled her back against him, placed his lips against her
ear and whispered, "Good girl." Warmth spread through her at his
praise, and the thought that she would do almost anything to gain that from
him. He stepped back and took her hands, and placed them behind behind her
head. He circled her appreciatively, running his hands over her bottom, her
belly, her arms, her breasts, bending to run his hands down her legs. His eyes
shone appreciatively, "Beautiful." She shook her head, and whispered,
"I'm not." His hand drew back, and he swatted her firmly across her bottom.
"You will not question or contradict me, is that understood?" Tears
pricked her eyes, she nodded. He stroked her cheek, "Good girl." The
tears that brimmed her eyes, spilled down her cheek, and he wiped them away.
He kissed her
forehead, then brushed his lips across hers, then gently tilted her chin to
his, bending his head till their eyes locked, "Beautiful," he said as
he nodded, inviting her agreement. Her face blushed furiously, and whispered a
barely audible, "Y-yes, Sir," without understanding why she used the honorific.
He smiled and bent to her chest, kissing her breasts, circling the areola with
his tongue, then flicking her nipples with his tongue, before drawing it into
his mouth and sucking gently. She moaned and wobbled on her feet. He suckled
her other nipple, then sucked his way down her belly, stopping short of her
mound and looping his arm around her when her knees buckled again. He led her
to the bed, his back to it, and facing her, her hands still laced behind her
head he took note. He brushed her hair away from her face, "Mine," he
breathed against her cheek, "and now I will claim what belongs to me.
Don't you agree, little one? Do you want Daddy to show you how much he desires
you?" She nodded, breathing rapidly. "Good girl," he crooned
soothingly.
He sat on the
bed and drew her across his lap, his hands firm on her bottom, kneaded and
massaged, traced the curves of her cheeks and thighs. Then she felt a curious
lack of sensation, until his hand connected solidly with her bottom and she
jolted and gasped. He continued to spank, firmly, fast, he felt the initial
fight or flight reaction of her body, and could almost feel the war to stay in
position, then her body relaxed into what was happening. When he felt her
reaching the levels of her endurance, he would stop and massage her gently,
lean down whisper reassurance and pride in her ear, trace his fingers down her
back, kiss her shoulders, hips, back. Then when she had calmed he would begin
again. After once such pause, he drew her to him, and up onto his lap. He let
her cry against his shoulder. When she was calmed, he whispered, "Go to
the dresser, love, and bring me that paddle, and the flogger next to it."
She drew in a sharp breath, but nodded, and began to rise, as his hand dipped
between her thighs, and came away glistening. He smiled and she blushed.
She returned
with the toys he had requested and he accepted them with a smile, and
whispered, "Good girl, face down on the bed, please." She obeyed, and
he glowed, his knowledge that he had chosen well growing by the moment. He
rubbed the paddle gently across her bottom, then bounced it across her bottom
before drawing it back and laying a firm stroke across her cheeks. She raised
up momentarily, cried out, then pressed her head to the mattress, and pulled
her arms tight under her chest, sobbing, "I'm sorry." He stroked her
back gently, and bent to her cheek, kissed the tears away and whispered,
"It's okay love, I know it hurts. I'm proud of you. You're taking your
spanking very bravely. Just a bit more." She nodded. He kissed her cheek
again, then her shoulder, then down her back, then he pressed his lips against
her bottom before standing. He caressed her bottom then drew back and gave her
a few more minutes with the paddle.
Laying it down,
he whispered, "All done, such a good, brave girl." He picked up the
flogger laid it against the skin of her back and dragged it from her shoulders
to her ankles several times. She moaned under the sensuous feel. He began to
rotate his wrists, and let the flogger fall in a gentle rhythm on her flesh.
She started to drift on the rhythm and float away. When her skin was lightly
rosy, except for the scarlet redness of her bottom, he laid the flogger down.
He took the scented oil from the table next to the bed, squeezed some into his
hand to warm it, and began to work the oil into her skin, from her shoulders to
her ankles. He felt her turn to jelly beneath his hands and smiled, following
his hands with a trail of kisses. Thomas stood and let his pants slide to the
floor, then drew her to him, and against his body, as his hands roamed the
front of her body, caressing, pinching, and pleasuring. He sank back into an
overstuffed chair, and drew her down and over his member, she moaned and her
limbs spread for him, her arms seeking behind her head for his own. He reached
between her legs, and stroked her labia and clitoris as he stroked into her
from behind and beneath. Their rhythm was sensuous and beautiful and the groan
started building in her chest as the growl tore from his lips, and they rolled
together far away from this room, on wave after wave of pleasure.
When they were
exhausted, they lay panting against each other. Thomas lifted Grace and moved
to the bed, laid down, and she scrambled from his side to laying her head on
his chest, needing that closeness, and that connection. They drifted in
pleasure drenched sleep for a while. When she woke, she looked up and saw that
he was watching her. She smiled shyly, and lowered her head to his chest again.
He chuckled, then lifted her chin till their eyes met, "What say you,
little one? I feel Micah has made a good match, and in my mind, I have claimed
you. I will leave this last choice to you. Will you be mine?" She blushed
deeply, and her eyes welled with tears. His brow furrowed, "If the answer
is no, then I will accept that." She shook her head furiously, and spoke
in a soft voice,"You want me?" He smiled and pressed his lips to her
forehead, "In my mind and my heart you are already mine, I need only your
word." She smiled, lowered her eyes, then raised them to his and in a sure
voice, said, "Yes, I am yours."
