by Linn Young
Jack stretched his legs out in front of him. “Well, that was an interesting evening,”
Heron did not stir but continued to stare out the window.
“So, that was the sister of your former fiancée?”
There was, again, no response.
“Tell me, Heron, did you kiss your fiancée the way you kissed her sister tonight?” Heron did not stir.
“Did you ever kiss a woman the way you kissed her tonight?”
The silence from Heron continued. Bored, and tired of his friend’s brooding silence, Jack opened up a lid on the side of the car, which revealed a small bar, and made himself a drink.
“So, Heron, what would have happened had you married her sister? Do you think that torrid embrace would have still been an eventuality?”
Heron did turn his head and gave Jack a very hard, a very chilling look.
Jack shrugged and sipped at the martini that he had made. “Just speculating, old boy. Just speculating.”
Several hours later Riley closed the bar and went home. Exhausted both physically and mentally, she fell asleep the instant her head touched her pillow. She dreamt that she was a villager whose village had just been conquered and with many others, she was taken prisoner:
She was put on a long caravan where their conquerors were to take them to a place of exile. Suddenly, she found herself in a small cell alone being carted by a horse, and Heron was the soldier assigned to escort her.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked him, peering up at him through the bars of her jail.
Heron looked down at her from the back of his horse, his face set hard and stern. “You will see,” he only said tersely.
“Is it far from here?”
“I believe it is just over the mountains west of here.”
Then it should be no more than a few hours, she thought to herself.
But several hours later, they had not arrived at their destination. In her cell, she became tired and began to sleep. In the dream, she woke up, and found that she no longer was in a cell but in a cart pulled by a horse with her hands tied together at a post, the soldier riding on his horse alongside the cart.
She tried to ask him again when they would reach the place and where it was. He did not answer but continued to ride. She put her hands in front of her eyes to block out the westward sun so that she could peer up at him. He did not seem to know that she was there, but kept his eyes in front of him.
The next thing she knew in the dream, she was lying on her back, naked beneath a black sky that was studded with stars, and the soldier’s rough hands were holding her legs apart. He was rutting deeply inside her, she felt as if she were nothing but warm thick liquid, the pleasure spiraling tighter in her loins. She reached out her hands and clasped his broad shoulders and pulled him to her, her mouth seeking to taste him, to bite him, so willingly moaning and writhing for him.
Then they were riding again, climbing up the mountains that never seem to end. This time she was on horseback riding alongside the soldier, her wrists tied in front of her. Again, on the trip, he remained silent, and did not look at her.
The next scene was where they were naked on the ground, his hands fondling the flesh between her thighs, making her arch her body and groan with pleasure. Then he was fucking her hard and slow, and the pleasure was so intense that she was sobbing, suddenly frightened of it.
“You will never go back to where you came from,” he whispered down to her, his eyes eerily dark and fathomless.
“Whaa…?” She shook her head, trying to clear it of the searing haze that was swirling inside so that she could hear his words.
She felt the hot tightness inside her dissolve as her body shook and everything went blank.
They were traveling again through the mountains that never seemed to end but always seemed to beckon them further on. This time, she was completely unbound, and she was seated on his horse in front of him, his one arm encircling her waist to anchor her on the seat. The other horse was tied to their theirs with a rope, lazily following them, weighed down with their belongings. He no longer wore a soldier’s uniform but was simply dressed as a farmer like she.
As they rode on, she felt a certain contentment, a peace that she never knew could be had. She no longer asked him everyday where they were going, or how long it would be until they arrived. It no longer mattered. It didn’t matter how long the journey would be, or if it would ever end.
The next evening, Riley was half afraid and half anticipating that the two men would come back to the bar. Dreading seeing Heron again and yet very excited, she dressed in a light cashmere wool sweater dress that was the color of pale buttercup. It was long sleeved and several inches above her knees. It had a demure neckline and seemed like a respectable dress until she turned and revealed her back. It was completely backless that dipped below the small of her back.
All evening, Riley stayed close to the main lounge, keeping her eye on the doorway, often scanning the room for the sight of a very tall man with a striking face, cool, distant eyes, and thick black hair. After midnight, when it became clear that Heron would not be showing, she was shocked at the bitter disappointment that she felt.
But the next evening, which was a Sunday evening, one of the slowest nights of the bar, she found herself again expecting him to enter the bar. And she waited for him, spending half the time scolding herself for expecting something that was nearly impossible, But he did not show.
This time, Riley managed to shrug off her disappointment, deciding that it had been a one time oddity, a fluke passion that had flared between them. Besides, she told herself, it would probably not do for them to get involved in a torrid affair since they were related by marriage.
On the following Thursday evening, Riley was walking by the bar when Joe stopped her. “They’re here, again,” Joe said.
“Who?”
“Those two men who were here last Friday.”
“Where?”
“Three chairs down.”
Riley easily spotted them, Heron and his friend, Jack, sipping their drinks. The crowd
was not the near crush that it had been last Friday, where people had been almost shoulder to shoulder. There was still a good crowd but people didn’t have to push their way through to get from one place to another. Riley was about to go up to the two men then stopped and looked down at herself. Then she rushed back to her office and checked herself in the mirror, something she had not done since her first date in high school. As she looked in the mirror, she considered changing out of the black tailored jacket and into one of her corsets or a long slinky dress. The jacket was a mock morning coat, cut at the waist in front with a small split, penguin tail at the back that reached half over her buttocks so that her bare lower cheeks were revealed. In the front, the coat was double breasted and fitted, buttoning with four buttons below her chest. The lapels were left gaping, the construction of the upper part of the jacket was so that there was not ample room for proper concealment of Riley’s large breasts. Not wearing any undergarment, her breasts were barely contained between the two lapels that just were able to cover her nipples exposing an abundant cleavage. When she moved a certain way, the lapels gaped open, revealing the whole of her breast. For her bottom, Riley wore a type of a g-string panties that was cut very high at the hips.
Satisfied with her appearance, Riley quickly freshened her lips with red lipstick and sent back out to the bar, hoping no one would see the mixture of wild panic and excitement in her eyes.
Taking a deep breath, she took her time making her way to the two men, trying to appear casual and unconcerned, trying not to show overt interest.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” Riley greeted with her usual warmth of a seasoned hostess. “I’m glad to see you two in here again. It’s always a pleasure to see repeat customers.” She flicked her eyes at Heron, who was gazing at her from beneath hooded eyes, his face impassive. “Heron.”
He was very casual again, wearing faded jean
s and blue and black pin striped dress shirt beneath his leather jacket. He looked far removed from the high-powered lawyer who handled the legal contracts of a major financial house.
He took his time looking over her appearance, his eyes lingering with unapologetic leisure on her nearly exposed breasts. “Riley.”
Riley stared at him with pale gray-hazel eyes that were large and waiting. Although she forced her body to stay still, she was full of tension.. Her mind was screaming, “When are you going to touch me? Please, touch me. Please.” She knew the question was in her eyes and Heron could see it. And she cursed him for remaining in his seat, not touching her, coolly detached, content for the moment to only drink his scotch.
“Hey, hey, remember me,” Jack prompted.
Riley turned to him and her face relaxed in an easy smile. “Mr. Knowles, how could I forget you.”
“Jack.”
“Jack.” Then she flicked her eyes to Heron. “Tell me, Jack, did you have to drag your friend here, as well, tonight?”
Jack gave a knowing smile, looked mockingly at Heron. “Actually I didn’t. When I made the suggestion that we come here tonight, Heron was surprisingly acquiescent.”
Riley raised an eyebrow at Heron. “Is that so? I would never have equated such words as acquiescent to a man like Heron. In certain rooms upstairs, I would have thought that he would have been the one to enforce acquiescence.”
“Everyone, it seems, has their price,” Jack drawled.
Riley frowned, not understanding for a moment. “Price?” Then her forehead cleared. She tipped her head back, giving Heron a slow, knowing smile. “I see.” She turned back to Jack. “Was there anything particular you needed, Jack?”
“I would like a private tour of that tool room, if you don’t mind.”
“Consider it done. I’ll take you there myself later. How about you, Heron, are you interested in seeing paraphernalia that aids in acts of intimacy?”
“Not as a rule,” Heron said.
“Why don’t you come up anyway? Who knows, you might find something there that intrigues you,” Riley suggested.
Heron stared at her for a moment. Then, suddenly, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his and ruthlessly drawing her into a long, passionate kiss. Riley moaned, and shuddered with both sensual relief and need, thrusting her hands through his hair, pressing her body against his as tightly as she could, not caring that Jack, and the other guests and employees, were watching them. All she cared was that she was in Heron’s arms and he was holding her, kissing her. When he ended the kiss, he kept Riley close to him, his arms holding her prisoner between his legs, while his hands freely roamed over her body, often lowering over her bare buttocks to caress and fondle them. He kept his head near hers, letting his lips trial over her face, kissing her features, sometimes taking small stinging bites of her jaw and chin and down her neck.
“I dreamed about you that night,” Riley said, her voice throbbing with need that was pressing on her nerves and loins. She thought with some despair that she was losing every vestige of shame and dignity where Heron was concerned.
Riley pressed herself against Heron. He was so much taller and bigger than she was, towering over her, even as he was sitting down on the stool. His large frame with its broad shoulders blotted out everything else, so that it seemed to Riley there was only the two of them, enveloped in a very small world of heat and passion.
Her small hands ran over him, grasping at him beneath his shirt, wishing he was naked. She planted small kisses all over him, trailing her lips where she could touch his skin. A few times, as he had done to her, she would takes small nips, reveling in the taste and smell of him. She lifted her lips and pressed them against his throat and when she felt a pulse leap in her mouth, she sank her teeth into his skin and started to suckle. Heron’s body gave a great shudder. He instantly put a stop to what Riley was doing with her hungry mouth by pulling her head back by her hair and covering her lips with his for another deep kiss. When the kiss ended, she buried her face against his neck, while her small hands undid the buttons down his shirt front. She parted the edges and began to rain kisses on his chest. Heron swept her hair to one side, exposing her nape, bent his head, sank his teeth into her neck and suckled, doing to her what he had not allowed her to do to him. Riley lifted her mouth away from his chest and gasped as erotic need sharpened inside her. Heron held her in place even as she wriggled and shuddered so that he could continue to sip at her.
Somewhere in the distant part of her mind, Riley could not believe that she letting this happen to her. She was more than willing to let him have his liberties over her body in front of so many people, not caring that she was abandoning her self-respect and good opinion from others, and Heron’s opinion of her. Whatever passion and need he was arousing in her was overwhelming and all consuming. It seemed to block out everything else in her mind, such considerations as appearances, decorum, respect, propriety, control. Especially control. No other man had ever led her to the point where she would lose a sense of herself, a sense of who she believed she was.
When Heron released her neck, now bruised and throbbing, Riley lifted her glazed eyes up at him, her lids heavy with passion. Her hands pulled at his jacket.
“Let’s go upstairs. Please,” she said, knowing she was begging.
He looked down at her, his eyes shuttered. Over her shoulder, he saw Jack was preoccupied with a tall blond.
“No, not tonight,” he said quietly, belying the passionate embrace and kisses that he had just shared with her.
Riley pulled back, her face a little stricken, a desperate look coming to her eyes. “Why,” she demanded hoarsely.
“Now’s not the time.”
“When will it be time?”
“I’ll let you know.”
Her eyes studied him feverishly, trying to read his inscrutable face. She was ready to have Heron. She had been ready for him the first time he took her in his arms. But there was a guardedness in his eyes as he stared back at her that confirmed his words. Heron was not ready for her. He wanted her, maybe as much as she wanted him. But he was not ready to take her. Even though there was passion between them and their sexual need for each other was suffusing inside their bodies, he was waiting for something else. And she saw that he wasn’t going to tell her what that was, whether or not he knew what it was he was waiting for.
Heron tugged on her wrist and pulled her back to him. Riley automatically lifted her lips to his as he lowered his face to hers. She was willing to wait, for now.
“Hey, Riley, how about showing us that room,” Jack said from behind her.
Both looked at him. The tall blond was nowhere to be seen.
Riley though for a moment, the sexual tension beginning to subside. Perhaps it was a good idea to put some distance between she and Heron, if nothing was going to happen, let things cool down between them. She even hoped that she might even get her bearing with Heron, but she doubted it. She wanted to experience that desire that Heron had created in her, no matter what it drove her to do.
She slowly stepped out of Heron’s arms, her eyes locked to his, as she said, “Yes, Jack, that’s a good idea. I will show you that room, right now.” She turned and walked towards the staircase, keeping her eye in front of her so that she did not weaken and look back to see if Heron was coming, too.
When she reached the second floor, she walked down a long hall. She did not allow herself to feel any satisfaction when she heard two male footsteps behind her. Along the hallway, there were many doors and all of them were shut. It was obvious that a few of them were occupied from the moans and muffled cries that were coming from behind the doors.
At the end of the hallway, she opened a small door to a compartment and pulled out a key and inserted it into a lock on one of the doors. She led them to what was a very large room, lit in low lights, with several glass cases. The cases contained the various sex toys, from whips, vibrators, butt plugs, han
dcuffs, whips, feathers, etc., that people in the sex club could purchase. There were all over the wall displays of equipment, as well as the different outfits that enabled people to play out their fantasies, from leather bras, corsets, chaps, boots, gloves to such outfits of well known story figures and famous people such as Little Bo Peep, Tinker Bell, Marilyn Monroe, Darth Vader, Delilah. There were also hanging on the walls chains, collars with leashes, whips, and leather straps to bound people up.
Jack gave a whistle. “Wow! A playroom for adults. I heard that you have some equipment for torture. Was that just a rumor.”
Riley pointed to an open doorway that led to another room. Jack entered the room and saw harnesses and chains with straps at the end to bound people up. There were on display a few leather masks that only had holes for the person to breathe out of. There two contraptions where the person could strapped spread eagle, face down or face up.
“Impressive,” Jack said. He gave Riley a sardonic smile. “Do you try out any of these, yourself?”
Riley watched Heron walk slowly around the displays. She said to Jack, “Only one or two of the very tame ones.”
“So, no whipping, no bondage, no role playing of being the helpless maid trapped by a lecherous millionaire in his mansion or a school girl being disciplined by the headmaster?”
Riley smiled. “No. I’m afraid I like my sex the old fashioned way.” She saw Heron finger a leather glove that had silver fringes. Or, she mused, I thought I did.
“Now, this is a curious case.” Jack bent to take a closer look at the contents in one of the cases. “What are all these things for? Can sex be that varied?”
She looked at contents. “Haven’t you ever seen butt plugs before?”
“Sure I have.” Jack pulled out a simple model that was a few inches long, slender, and with a small ring at the end. “I know this is a plug. But are all these others for the same purpose? Such as this?” He pulled an item that had four small balls that were an inch in diameter on a string, each an inch from the other.