J.D. obviously noted her harried look. “I’ll find it!”
Ella gave him a quick kiss, grabbed the single shoe, and ran out the door with Jeri. They sprinted to the car, and Ella revved the motor. One of the Harley guys appeared at the window and said something to Jeri, but Ella was more concerned with the crowds of people still milling around the car. She backed carefully out of the parking spot and headed down the road, taking the first left to get back on Main Street and then onto the highway. “Did they say anything?”
Jeri shook her head. “It was Ms. Martin from next door. She was there when the ambulance came. Your gran called it, so maybe she’ll be okay.”
*
The trip was a blur. They’d parked and raced up to the admitting desk for directions, running breathlessly up to the cardiac ward, where the nurse made them sit and wait. Ella could hardly bear the delay, but at last, they allowed her to see her gran alone.
“Gran!” Ella took the older woman’s hand as gently as she could, though she wanted to grab it tight. “How are you?”
The beloved face smiled up at her. “It’s nothing really. Just a little skip in the beat. I’ll be home in no time. Don’t make such a fuss.”
“Is that true?” Ella’s gaze shifted to the nurse who frowned at the various dials and meters surrounding the bed.
“Your grandmother’s had an irregular episode, and we plan to keep her here for a couple of days,” the nurse said, noting something on a chart. She looked up at Ella and smiled. “It’s not a heart attack, probably, but we want to keep an eye on her. So don’t worry too much.”
Ella closed her eyes with relief. “Thank god. Gran, you had me so worried.” She laid her head on the bed next to her gran’s hand.
“So worried you had to leave your handsome young man to come here.”
Ella snapped erect. “What? How—how did you know?”
Her gran chuckled. “What? I wasn’t born yesterday. You’re just like your father—and your mother. The cars never fast enough, the music never loud enough, the times never wild enough.”
Ella stared, her mouth open. “You mean—?”
“I knew.” Her gran nodded, looking tired but still smiling. “That dress, those shoes? I’m not blind.” She chortled. “Is he a good guy?”
Ella blushed, but her own heart wanted to burst with love for her gran. “Yeah, I think so.”
She nodded. “Your grandfather had a black Studebaker that he polished like a pair of shoes. Swanky. And there was a big back seat, too.” She winked at her granddaughter.
Ella protested. “Too much information!”
They laughed and hugged again.
She stayed until her grandmother fell asleep, and the nurse shooed her out. Jeri was curled up on one of the chairs outside, eager to hear the news. They were quiet as they drove home to Hazardville.
“I can’t believe it,” Jeri said. “Your gran is the best.”
“I know,” Ella said as they pulled up at her best friend’s house. “So are you. Thank you for everything, Jeri.”
They hugged tightly.
“You’ll be thanking me for a long time,” Jeri said ominously. “You don’t know the half of it.”
Ella laughed at her friend’s enigmatic words, a little puzzled as she watched her run up the steps. She turned the corner and headed home to the unexpectedly dark house, only to pause when she saw the outline of a man on her porch. Stepping out of the car, her worried look quickly disappeared in a smile. “Hello there.”
J.D. stood and grinned sheepishly, holding a single red shoe before him. “Jeri called Matt, my pal, and let him know where you lived and what was going on. I’ve been waiting here to make sure your grandmother was okay.” He looked down at his offering. “And to give you back your shoe.”
Ella stepped up, took the shoe from him, and stretched to her tiptoes to kiss him. “Thank you.”
“So, can I finally ask you name?” J.D. blushed. She could see it even in the dim porchlight. It lit up his crooked smile and made her stomach knot with desire once again.
“Ella,” she told him, pulling him into a deep kiss. “My name’s Ella.”
“That’s a nice name,” he said when she finally let him go.
“You want to come in?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her inside.
Ella tossed the shoes aside and pointed toward her bedroom. Who needs a glass slipper? It’s not the only way to find a prince. Ella sighed.
The End
Text Me, Sir
For Pony Boy
Give me your mobile number.
Natalia laughed in surprise. Typical; he doesn’t even say please.
She looked at the devious smile on his Facebook photo. It was hard to believe it had been ten years since she last saw Andrei. It was harder still to believe he’d changed at all. Sure, he was a little more portly, sporting rotundness under his expensive silk suit. There were a few less hairs on his head, too. That grin, though . . . .
Didn’t we all change? Natalia looked down at her own sagging middle as she considered what to type in response. It had taken her by surprise when his name appeared in her inbox. The little red flag usually meant that Melanie or Liz had a great idea for some weekend hijinks, so clicking on the little word balloon icon would generally bring up one or the other of their smiling faces or Melanie’s little pug, whose face just as often as not replaced her round visage and unruly mop of auburn curls.
But today it had been Andrei with his wicked grin and his Saville Row suit and the seductive words, I should never have let you go. Natalia let an hour go by before responding. In the space of that time a wave of emotions washed over her parched skin. His words intrigued her—and let’s admit it, fed her ego—but would she be interested if she hadn’t kicked Bryan to the curb six months before? She stared at that little cleft between his eyebrows as if trying to bore a hole into his brain in order to see his true thoughts.
Did he mean it? That’s what she kept asking herself. Does it matter?
A voice that sounded a lot like Melanie’s answered her at last. Just have fun.
The thought of some fun unfroze her hands and let her type a response. Forget the call he’d made five years ago, when she and Bryan were happy and fearless. Then she had smugly told him there was no need for him to call her again. But now single, again, Natalia looked at his hands in the photo and remembered the things they had done to her and how good they had felt. You gave up too easily, she typed in her reply at last, hesitating a moment before hitting send, but smiling as she did so. Let’s see where this goes.
Natalia was a bit nervous because she’d seen no relationship status on his profile at all. He could simply be ego trolling, for all she knew. Distract yourself, she scolded, reading headlines instead of waiting for him to respond. But it was only seven minutes later that his response arrived.
I won’t this time.
Feeling like a teen again, she turned on the chat function and the words flew between them. He was in Norwich, she in London. He had been married and divorced to a woman named Marilyn; she had been with Bryan for nearly five years. Andrei worked with computers, Natalia continued her life in public relations. They were both doing well. They were both unattached.
Give me your mobile number.
Why did she hesitate? Natalia tapped her fingers on the keyboard without pressing the keys. Everything was so complicated. The things she’d discovered about her own libido, the things Bryan couldn’t or wouldn’t do—they were the reasons she’d kicked him out. I know what I want. Natalia looked at Andrei’s picture again. I just don’t know if you will want to do them.
In the end, she sent the number, determined she would not wait for him to call. Natalia had just squeezed some dishwashing liquid into the sink when her phone buzzed. Hmm, a message not a call. Coward! But she had a broad grin when she turned off the water to go pick up the phone.
After all this time, the tiny pr
int on the screen said, I still enjoy you.
“That’s because I’m wonderful,” Natalia said as she typed the letters in with her thumbs, “It’s a pity you didn’t figure it out sooner.” She clicked the button to send the text, satisfaction filling her head. It was no less than the truth.
Natalia looked at the sink full of dishes. Screw it! She grabbed the phone and went into the sitting room. It was already vibrating and chiming before she flopped into her most comfy chair.
I was an idiot: weak and foolish.
Natalia drew in a deep breath. She would let him know right up front where she was: no sense in getting her hopes up if he was going to disappoint. She’d had too much of that as it was. “Are you any stronger now?” She whispered the words as she typed. “Because I need someone strong: someone who can bring me to my knees.”
A longer pause ensued this time before his response. Natalia had begun to think she should turn on the television or at least the radio when the phone went off again.
On your knees? Now there’s a tempting picture. Yum.
Natalia certainly thought so. The image of herself ordered to her knees always filled her with a special thrill. “Are you strong enough to put me there?” she typed, cursing at her typos and correcting the spelling. Her lust was getting the better of her, addling her brain again. It had been far too long since she’d had the prospect of a yummy fuck ahead of her. The trip down memory lane fueled her fantasy.
Another chime. So how would you be dressed in this little scenario?
Uh uh, Natalia thought, you’re new at this, boy.
Her fingers flew over the keypad, a grim smile frozen on her lips. “That’s not how it works for me. I’m expecting you to command me.” Let’s see what you think of this. She hit send and leaned back in the chair. Her clit already throbbed. God, if he disappointed—well, she still had a very good prep for a little play with Gigi later. I love a rechargeable sex toy, Natalia thought, well worth the price. She refused to look at the phone. When it vibrated in her lap, however, she grabbed it at once.
You’re in a grey business suit, she read greedily. Your sales figures for the last quarter were atrocious.
Natalia licked her lips. She was pleased he didn’t go with naughty schoolgirl, though that costume had its place. It was a promising start. “I swear I’ll do better next quarter! The elections are bound to create a bit of a bump in the economic situation,” she noticed herself saying each word while she typed, and her heart raced.
She found it easy to picture the scene: her grey suit had a flattering fit, the peplum jacket accentuating the plump curve of her ass, the snug hug of the skirt pleasantly binding. Natalia caught sight of herself in the mirror above the television; her face had taken on the harried look of a woman afraid of losing her job.
Another chime: Andrei texted, That’s not good enough. I need results now! You’re simply not giving enough to this position.
Natalia felt a warm shudder in her shoulders. He had a real talent for this. She leaned forward to type. “But sir, I’ll do anything to keep my job! I know I’ve messed up and I’m ready to be punished for it.” After she sent the text, Natalia dropped the phone in her lap and reached up to caress her breasts. Her nipples were hard already, and she pinched them lightly, imagining it was Andrei’s fingers doing so. Was he getting hard thinking about her?
His next message suggested he was. Then we’ll handle this the traditional way: on your knees for your punishment!
Yes! The very words made her wet with desire. Bending over the desk would have been good, too, but oh, the magic of that command: on your knees! There was only one response possible, and she shivered as she sent the words, saying the reply loud and bold as he would’ve wanted her to if he were there to receive it, “Yes, sir. As you wish.”
It excited Natalia to think of the way the fabric of her suit would strain as she got on her hands and knees before him, the material tightening around her thighs, straining across the cheeks of her ass, tight as a drumhead.
Her fingers stroked her breast with one hand as she read his next text, its tone peremptory. Of course it’s as I wish. Why is your skirt still on? Take it off at once.
Natalia suited her actions to his words, standing up to remove her tracksuit bottoms and running her hands along the curve of her bottom. Smiling somewhat sheepishly, she got on her hands and knees, eyes closed, and pictured the scene perfectly: Andrei in his expensive silk suit, an angry expression on his face, a sizeable hard on in his trousers. Delicious. “Ready, sir,” she said and hit the send key, at last.
I don’t usually need to use this paddle, Andrei wrote, but I need to make a strong impression on you. You have disappointed me.
Natalia actually squealed in delight. She thought she would only get a smack from his hand. This was much better. Dare she ask what kind of paddle? Oh, why distract him when he was doing so well? “I understand, sir. I’m sorry that I have to put you to the trouble.”
How luxurious to bend before him! All day long Natalia had to order people about and make all the decisions: where do we go with this campaign? Who’s going to work on this project? Should we do the milk project this morning or the chocolate one? She waited for his message, her clit pulsing, her panties wet. Her hand itched to touch herself, but still she waited.
The phone lay on the floor in front of her, lighting up as it chimed and vibrated. Trouble indeed, he had written, the glowing letters looking harsh in the twilight. Now, head down, I’m going to give you a dozen strokes. I’ll have no crying either, missy.
A dozen! Natalia shivered again. He was serious. Even if it was only a small paddle, that was going to smart. The tips of her nipples were on fire as she imagined the smack of leather or wood on her cheeks.
The phone lit up. One.
Natalia gasped in the swiftly darkening room. She could hear the crack of the paddle on her skin, feel its warmth as her flesh tingled.
Two.
The sting across her cheeks must be drawing blood to the surface, painting her ass pink.
Three.
Her breath caught as she imagined the blow. The welts would begin to rise now, surely. Natalia hoped the paddle was narrow enough to leave stripes across her ass and thighs.
Four.
Perhaps, she imagined, perhaps that blow fell a bit astray, between her thighs, near enough to her quivering cunt to spread those echoes of lust already resounding within her.
Five.
Breathless now, Natalia wanted to hear Andrei’s voice announce the word, clinical, cold, exacting. No emotion to cloud the desire to give her what she deserved.
Six.
Halfway: how could she bear waiting for the final release? Natalia could feel her cunt contracting, soaking her pants with her oozing desire. A mere touch of her clit would bring on paroxysms of delight, but she would not, would not. It was too delicious.
Seven. No tears!
Natalia gasped with delight. The pain would be exquisite by now with the hammering on her tender flesh, the smack of the hard implement on her backside. She should be fighting back tears, her nerves soaring with pain.
Eight.
The pain would be transcendent. Every nerve in her body had become awake, screaming, pulsating with the echoes of the blows. Her arms trembled as she awaited the next smack.
Nine.
Natalia was conscious of the press of her knees into the carpet. It’s not that it was uncomfortable per se, but as she rocked back and forth—imagining the blows—her knees bore the brunt of the position and the chafing movements. It made her bottom feel even warmer.
Ten.
The pain had become almost too much. The heat permeated her skin. The throbbing of her clit threatened to send her over the edge, but she had to hold on. Natalia knew the slightest pressure would make her come. Even the silken touch of her panties tempted her to rub just a little against it, but no. She would be strong.
Eleven. Hang on just a little longer!
He knew!
Andrei knew and how excited must he be? Knowing he was bringing her pleasure, knowing how wet her cunt had become, how her flesh trembled at his mercy, how badly she wanted his words—his touch.
Twelve!
And it was there. She wanted to collapse, to rub herself against his pant leg, to moan like an animal for his hands, his cock, his mouth. A single touch and she would explode. He must know, surely, he must. She wanted to beg. With shaking hands, Natalia told him, “Thank you, sir. I deserved every one. What shall I do now?” Please oh please, let me come!
Her answer came quickly. Did I say you could speak? I find my cock’s hard: I want you to suck it now and don’t you dare touch yourself.
Natalia nearly swooned. Her lips hungered for the feel of his cock thrusting between them. Her cunt might whimper with envy, but how delicious was the thought of his hot, hard cock in her mouth, taking him deep, licking the glistening head. She almost believed she could come just thinking about it. “Yes, sir.”
Deeper, faster, he commanded, and she complied. The friction against her lips was electric.
I’m coming. Slow now, make it last, get every drop. And she did, gulping deeply, savoring every bit as she imagined each spurt of his cum fill her mouth with salty flavor, then licking the tender head of his cock with gentle strokes. Natalia wanted to coo with delight, even as her body continued to shiver with desire. But she waited for the command from her master.
You have atoned well for your misdeeds, Andrei’s text read. I can begin to consider whether you might be worthy.
Natalia ached to be told to touch herself, weaving on her knees yet, giddy with pleasure and withheld desire. All the hairs on her body were raised like antennae. If the window were open, a stray breeze might make her explode in a final release of delight, but instead she waited.
To her surprise, the phone rang. Natalia stared at it a moment, but it was the same number. Please don’t destroy the image! Her thoughts begged, but she picked up the phone. “Hello?” She hardly recognized her own voice, so charged with suppressed desire.
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