by JJ Giles
Dan grinned. “But she is the submissive around here. So I guess it’s up to me. So uhh...how ‘bout some breakfast? The woman certainly can cook.”
Brian hesitated. “I didn’t come out here to bother you two. It is Sunday after all.”
“And Sunday is exactly the day we do nothing. So please...hang around for awhile...unless you’ve got somebody waiting for you.”
Brian sighed heavily. “No. I don’t.”
“Good.” Filled with excitement, he laid his arm around Brian’s shoulder. “So prepare to be amazed.”
Brian shivered to the feel of Dan’s closeness. “Excuse me?”
“My wife can do things with eggs that will make you cry to heaven for more.”
Brian grinned. “Okay.”
Together they walked up the hill, Dan’s arm lingering around Brian longer than Brian felt necessary any friendly gesture would dictate. Once inside the door, Caroline quickly rose, still wearing only her babydolls.
“Brian,” she said quickly. “Excuse me.”
“Honey, I talked Brian into staying for breakfast. What’s on the menu?”
“I don’t know. I’ll whip something up.” Quickly, she turned with a little flip toward the stairs. Dan led Brian into the kitchen for coffee.
Brian nestled into one of the barstools and sipped the coffee placed before him. “A lovely woman you got there,” Brian commented.
“Thanks. She pretty much does it for me,” Dan said surely. “Good woman who can cook. And a very intelligent woman, too.”
“Keeps you fed and entertained. What more would you want?”
“She was all I ever wanted and then I found out she was more than that. I was gonna take her to Paris for our anniversary and she said she’d rather go to New England. That’s a good woman.” He laughed heartily. “You married?”
“No,” Brian said sadly. “Not that I don’t want to be, but my woman and I have a difference of opinion on what happiness is all about.”
“Time to move on?” Dan asked quietly.
Unable to do that, to think about it, Brian shook his head. “What is it that makes women afraid to get married?”
Easily, Dan huffed. “Don’t ask me anything about women.”
Just then, Caroline walked in looking fresh and smelling like orchids. “What do you want to know?” she said slyly.
“Women,” Brian started. “Marriage?”
“Your woman isn’t getting married, huh? How long you been together?”
“Ten years.”
“Oooo,” she said with a turned up nose. “Then I’d say it’s time to move on, honey. Trying to figure out whether it’s her problem or yours is a waste of time. There’s somebody out there for you.”
“Maybe so.” Interested, he watched her bend over for the pans. “So where are you from?” he asked Caroline.
“Delaware,” she replied. “I’ll bet you never knew anyone from there.”
“Can’t say that I do.”
“And then I went to Cornell University. Law program,” she mewed. “Foolishly married a fellow student. He was an entrepreneur, you know. Didn’t need a law degree to fall back on. He was too smart for that. I stayed with him long enough to see him through six failed business ventures and dropped him off on the corner I picked him up on. For some reason he thought he was gonna take our ‘joint’ assets with him.”
Brian laughed. “But you set him straight?”
Coyly, she smiled. “I overheard his father telling him one time that I’m just a ditzy blond. That pissed me off. But I’m not a heartless woman, I gave him a pair of my panties to take with him...to that cardboard box he went to live in with his mommy and daddy in Brooklyn.”
Brian laughed. Not as outspoken as Morgan, but equally intelligent. “You’re a lawyer?”
She nodded as she turned the omelet and sprinkled the cheese in. “My uncle wanted to round out his law firm, sent me to school. Estate lawyer. I never had any interest in criminal or international law. I just write up wills, do trusts, the occasional corporation papers. Pretty clean and easy and my uncle doesn’t have to send his clients across the street. I’m not a terribly contentious person so family law was definitely out. You probably wouldn’t believe that the color of the bathroom walls could destroy a marriage, but it does.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Brian said.
“You’re from around here?”
“Yeah...Bexley. I ended up at Harvard because my father thought I was gonna sit in a cubicle in his accounting department and practice white collar crime with him. He was mistaken. So I went back to school and here I am. I love it.”
“Apparently, you do.” Full of exuberance, she started another omelet. “We were at Morgan’s place yesterday and that place is something else.”
“Morgan?” Brian froze and Dan watched his color wan. Dan cringed inside. He neglected to say anything to Caroline about keeping Morgan’s affairs from Brian. “You know Morgan?”
“Oh, yeah,” Caroline said wistfully. “She is way cool.”
“Honey,” Dan said softly to shut her up. Quickly, Brian turned to Dan and studied him a moment. Must be a client of Morgan’s, and that’s where he got my name. Shit, Brian thought.
“I’ll tell you what,” Caroline offered. “You ought to go chat Morgan up. She could certainly help you get over your girlfriend.”
“Honey,” Dan said more sternly. “I think that ring Morgan’s wearing is probably an engagement ring.”
“Oh...well...she could still help him get over his girlfriend. How do you know her?”
“We, uhh...met at a little club on Front Street a while back.”
With a leer, Caroline studied him a moment. “I know the one you’re talking about. That little S/M place that used to be a movie theater.”
“Yeah,” Brian said. A nervous laugh expressed his slight embarrassment.
“I knew it,” she whispered. “Morgan’s probably hot shit in that place.”
“As a matter of fact, she most definitely is.”
Dan intervened with a question toward his wife. “How do you know about that place?”
Her shoulder cocked. “A few of my girlfriends used to go there and...browse.”
“Browse!” he said incredulously with a curious grin.
“Browse.” She cocked her hips.
“I better go shopping with you next time.”
“So how do you know Morgan?” Brian asked.
Caroline hesitated, reticent to tell Brian about Dan’s premature ejaculation problem. Quickly, she turned away to the refrigerator for salsa. Even Dan hesitated remembering Morgan’s admonishment to not tell Brian what she does for a living. “I got her name from a friend of mine. She’s helping me set up a little playroom in the basement.”
“Oh,” Brian offered with a wistful sigh.
“You like to play, do you?” Dan asked.
Brian peered into his slate-gray eyes, knowing for certain he was being hustled now. “As a matter of fact, I do. But I’ve never gotten involved with my clients like that.”
Dan took the few steps forward and stretched out his hand toward Brian’s head. The feel of the hair was soft, long enough to run his fingers through it. Brian’s eyes were dark and huge, making him look totally turned on. “I’ll find someone else to do my landscaping,” he whispered.
Brian watched, hopelessly enchanted, as Dan’s stare melted into him. “That’s not necessary.”
“Good,” Dan mewed. “Then for now, the work is outside, the play is inside and ne’er the twain shall meet.”
Brian nodded, his breath like the panting of an overworked horse through his nostrils. He turned away to see Caroline burning the last omelet, caught in a hopeless inability to tear her eyes away.
“Shit,” she whispered. Horribly flustered, she grabbed a spatula.
Dan laughed. “You alright, baby?” he asked. Smoothly, he moved in behind Brian and raised his hands to stroke Brian’s shoulders.
She toss
ed her head, unable to speak. She grabbed the oven mitt to get the two omelets out of the oven and placed them on the table with a basket of biscuits. She set the champagne in front of Dan’s chair.
Dan’s fingers wrapped around Brian’s throat and his thumbs roughly stroked Brian’s jaw. He laid his cheek against Brian’s, Brian feeling the heavy breath from his chest. “I think I’ve ruined my wife already,” his voice nothing but heated. “So let’s eat and then we’ll see what we can do to put her back together again.”
It seemed Brian nodded, but it was only that he was shaking. Even his liver lurched as Dan’s fingers tightened around his throat a moment and the encounter ended with Dan’s lips on his neck.
“Whatever you’d like,” Brian offered wholeheartedly.
“Then we’ll test Morgan’s theory.” He took Brian’s hand and pulled him from the barstool. “See how hopeless a woman can become to see men together.”
That is Morgan exactly, Brian thought. But if Morgan was helping Dan get started it was because he was new at this thing... To help him even further Brian offered, “Then perhaps you’d like me to restrain her in a way that she can see everything.”
Curiously, Dan grinned as he sat down. “I think I might.”
“Has she been a bad girl?” Brian asked.
“My wife...never,” he exclaimed. Casually, he wiggled his fingers at her to come to him. Casually he threw a chair pad to the floor that she might kneel between his legs and be fed as she was last night at Morgan’s. Without any hesitation, she wriggled to her knees to be cradled in his embrace, her hands behind her to thrust her breasts in Brian’s direction. Gently, Dan stroked through her luminous blonde waves. “That doesn’t mean I won’t remind her from time to time who’s in charge around here.”
“Then she does need disciplined, and I’d be happy to oblige.”
“I thought you were the submissive one,” Dan said. Carefully, he placed a bite of the omelet on her tongue.
“And I’d be more than honored to do whatever you’d like to be done,” Brian whispered. “A bullwhip, riding crop, quirt or rattail. Phalluses, electrified, vibrating or not. Hemp rope or velveteen, doesn’t matter to me. And of course, if there’s any egregious hair on what I’m sure is an exquisite mons, that champagne will take care of it nicely.”
“Champagne?”
“Very high alcohol content,” Brian whispered.
With that, Caroline choked and turned toward Dan to cough it up or swallow it finally. She was quivering uncontrollably, ready to acquiesce everything to the cosmos for sending Morgan and Brian their way. “Can I please be excused?” she begged.
Dan smiled. “Go to the bedroom, stand in the corner facing the wall and wait for me.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. She flashed her gorgeous wide eyes at Brian, leapt to her feet and dashed through the door.
“I’m sorry,” Brian whispered. “I didn’t mean to screw her up.”
“What are you talking about champagne?”
“It just singes the hair off without burning. It evaporates as soon as it catches fire. Really rather harmless if you want her attention. But the sound...”
Dan sat back in the chair and grinned. “I haven’t been around this side of the world too much.”
“I know,” Brian said softly. “That doesn’t mean you don’t have it in you.”
“And you want my wife?”
“I want you,” Brian said. “If that means I have to do your wife...” Sitting as still as death, he awaited an affirmative answer.
Dan’s expression hardened a little. “First door on the left at the top of the stairs. Opposite corner from her.”
“Thank you,” Brian said eagerly. “Thank you, My Lord.” He slid out of the chair and knelt beside Dan long enough to raise his hand and kiss it.
Filled with the excitement of impending rapture, Brian took the stairs two at a time. He needed this so badly, people without emotional attachment, people who just wanted to play. But it was more than that. It was the closest he’d been to Morgan in months. And if Morgan was training these people... Already he found out that Morgan was still wearing his ring. What more might he come to know?
Through a wide door, he walked down a wide corridor, the exterior wall of windows overlooking the gardens he would soon create. That corridor opened onto a huge expanse of cream carpet and a four-poster bed from which he could hang her. She was quivering in the corner with her fingers interlaced tightly but refusing to turn and look at him.
Feeling the same as she, he buried his nose to a wall covered in softly burnished suede and tried desperately to still himself. If he could keep these people interested, he could quite effectively find out about Morgan.
* * * *
Curious, Dan thought as he finished his breakfast and grabbed up the champagne bottle. Morgan and Brian. Morgan’s reaction when he mentioned Brian’s name, Brian’s reaction at the mention of Morgan.
No...it couldn’t be. But if he can afford to drive a Diablo... and how many men could afford that ring she’s wearing. No...it couldn’t be. But then again... Who the hell is Brian Alexander?
* * * *
Breathless, Brian listened to the bare feet pad softly on the thick carpet down the corridor. They aimed directly at him; he could feel the intensity of the stare as if it cut through him. The sound drew nearer and he trembled. The hands reached out for his and parted them.
He couldn’t turn around until he was instructed to do so. But this guy was so new at this. Maybe not, being a CEO accustomed to giving orders. These orders weren’t so different, perhaps. Not at all different as he felt those arms encircle his waist and open his belt. Those fingers as they jerked the snap of his jeans open and lowered the zipper in a single fluid movement. In fact, that sense of command was exactly identical as the hand reached into his jeans and took control of his aching penis only to twist it quite roughly, sending his heart to shivering. The fingers went for the balls to seize them also.
His jeans fell to his ankles. The hands retreated and slid up his back taking his shirt with them. Roughly, it was drawn over his head and down his arms. And then he was turned but a little, sideways so that his new Master could with one hand stroke his ass and with the other caress yet more fury into his penis.
“You’ll do exactly what I tell you to do,” Dan growled.
Refusing to insult him by meeting his gaze, Brian prayed, “I will.”
“Nothing less, nothing more,” the Master ordered.
“I will,” Brian repeated. The arteries in his neck throbbed with excitement.
With his finger pressed to Brian’s orifice, his hand still locked around the cock, Dan shouted, “Woman.”
Quickly, Caroline turned. Her face flushed with the sight of her husband in firm control of Brian. As if delivered by spirits, she rushed to his side, her vision trained on a very gorgeous penis, much longer than average and quite thick, decorated beautifully with very dark straight hair flawlessly trimmed.
Dan’s finger drove through the dry anus rapidly to drive his point to its conclusion. “This woman is the most precious thing in my life,” he warned. “Be very, very careful with her.”
“Yes, My Lord.” He clenched down on the finger for a kiss.
“Take her clothes off,” Dan commanded. Dan retreated to a chair to pour a glass of champagne.
Brian nodded and then stood behind her to gently turn her toward her husband. He could do this easily, a little strip-tease to invoke her husband’s pleasure. Morgan had taught him well even though he’d never put the skills to use other than to please her.
Softly, his fingers gathered up her hair and laid it behind her to leave her breasts exposed when he got to them. His fingertips gently traveled around her waist and swept up her front in delicate circles refusing to touch her breasts in her husband’s presence. Easily, he could watch Dan as Dan watched his fingers open a single button at a time on this soft sweet sundress. Just to tempt him further, Brian cinched his a
rms a little tighter and lifted her breasts as the second button was opened.
Dan shifted in the chair, so horribly erotic to watch his wife be undressed by a man he coveted. By inches, the dress fell open, exposing the white satin bra, and then the soft skin moving painfully slowly toward her mound. Brian’s embrace tightened on her forcing her breasts to collide creating a deep cleavage he could appreciate. Slowly Brian lowered himself, his legs parted wide, to reach the buttons over her thighs toward her knees. If the dress wasn’t there, Dan could see Brian between her legs.
And then the dress was open, no panties of course, and slowly Brian rose, his fingertips gliding over her abdomen. They parted under her breasts to ride the swell at the sides and then tucked under the fabric of her shoulders and pulled the dress away.
The dress fell to the floor, leaving her standing in a puddle of shimmering pastel flowers. Dan could smell the scent, but it wasn’t of flowers. It was most definitely her. He glanced up, saw her eyes fluttering, her nostrils flaring, nearly unable to contain herself. Yet she stood still as she felt Brian’s fingers under the bra straps gently slide them off her shoulders, his skin just a little rough like a man who works, a man filled with unquenchable thirst for life. Only a moment more and it was opened in back, allowing her swelled breasts to break free.
Without seeking permission, Brian pulled her arms behind her back, forcing her open palm to his penis for a moment. She felt its heat, its eagerness and her desire to grasp it was undeniable. Grasp it she did, even as she was pushed forward toward her Master.
Yet Brian moved away and stood aside and behind her as he awaited the next order. It was a silent command as Dan opened his hand, holding a pair of nipple nails.
Brian held out his hand and Dan dropped them. Once again he stood behind Caroline, forcing his penis into her hands. Greedily, she took him, held to him as he reached around her for a breast. He peered over her shoulder and grasped one, wanting to draw this out as long as possible. No need to stroke any additional fury into that lovely thing, yet he drew the sharp tip over it, circled it a few times. Her head fell back on his shoulder; her breath came in uneven pants. And then without warning, Brian drove the point into the very center and crushed it into her to hold it there while the glue melted and stuck.