New inspiration, since I’ve been considering throwing away my pen and quitting writing…this came out earlier. It’s JUST a rough draft.
He’d worked all night with her, taming that client until the client was worn out, satisfied but not fucked, because neither of them would do that for money. They weren’t whores, they simply had a predilection for wicked games involving canes, whips, and other fun sensual instruments.
She’d driven them back home; he’d whipped up a quick meal and poured his customary nightcap but never got to it. The wanton gaze in her eyes told him he’d have to find another way to sleep tonight, and she had just the cure.
Once their bodies connected, the passion ignited flames of lust higher and higher, his cock driving into her, her mouth on him, neither taking without giving, receiving all the love they could muster between them, and then some.
He actually came for her, repeatedly. Having warned her, his nerves had been a wreck when he stepped off that plane, but business mode quickly put him in the frame of mind needed to sell books, speak to adults who aspired to be writers, and insert a little humor into his serious lectures.
It took no time to switch from businessman to co-Dominant and in an instant, her client was offering more, getting more.
His only secret he couldn’t tell her. They lay awake in bed the next morning, after another glorious, love filled romp that actually replaced the tattered edges of his soul with something more than whole.
He’d stared into her eyes, saw that fiery passion, the drive she possessed, knew he was right about her.
She was the one.
But she would be a world class artist first, because he was only going to guide her, then pull back, place his hand at the small of her back and catch her when she fell.
A gentle shake of his head had her laughing.
“Why the gesture?”
“You, you’re silly,” she whispered, touched his cheek with a delicate hand.
“Because you’re trying to hide something from me and protect me all at the same time. It’s sweet but I’m older than you.”
Before he could respond, and before he had time to formulate a clever story, she placed her hand over the center of his chest, took his other and did the same to hers. “Sweet, remember? No mistruths, my love.”
He grinned. “Yes, you’re right.”
“I know.” That cocky grin she wore appeared once again and he couldn’t help himself.
He chuckled, pulled her closer and knew he’d found something worth dying for.
This is essential Sascha. I like it.
April 18, 2015.
Margate at Telfords. Enough to go around.
I’ll call later and see if you can’t ship me two tins or so.