A new series I started just today. I welcome feedback so do drop a line.
*****
He watches the woman from almost a thousand meters away.
In the cool shadows of the mission-style complex, her fire-orange miniskirt stands out amid a mass of blue denim. He sees a flash of white white under the unbuttoned camel blazer.
She walks with her head bowed. That head is usually jaunty, a little haughty. People often step aside at her approach. It is her work persona.
He wonders if she is thinking of what awaits her tonight. She must be nervous. But even from a distance, he can sense the slow roll of her hips.
It was the walk that betrayed her the first time they met, at a meeting that tried to breach a stalemate between her union wards and his investment clients. Business lost some money in that war.
Lex smiles.
He'd pay twice the price for Kaine.
She doesn't see him yet, doesn't see the hazel eyes crinkle with pleasure on seeing that thin silk barely hides the lace chemise that leaves her breasts unbound, softly dancing, and gives a hint of the mix of pink and sienna of her areolas.
Now he is sure.
That blazer had been buttoned in class.
Kaine's students, colleagues and activist friends have always referred to her as the ice princess. For such a small woman, she intimidated many folk. She could stare down cops and university deans and rowdies. Tycoons and activists fidgeted, their bluster tapering off to silence as she regarded them with cocked head and raised brows, her quirked lips a contrast to cool eyes.
She is different with him.
Kaine takes a hand off the strap of her leather hobo and flicks a strand of hair behind an ear.
She is oblivious of the chatter around her. Her thoughts are on the email she sent this morning.
After every night with Lex, she has to write an essay and relieve every sensation and emotion. It is his way of stripping away what he calls "little dishonesties."
The first time he used the phrase, she had trained a cold blaze of anger on him. Yet she could not stay away.
By their fifth meeting, on her knees and sobbing, she had begged for the first time in her life. Only then did he make her cum on the carpet of her living room.
He sat on the floor, back to the sofa, and pulled her over his lap. Bent over, on her knees, ass in the air, Kaine had her initial brush his real pain as his hand bore down on flesh, striking globes and thighs again and again.
She had tried to pull away at the third slap, tried to escape, only to give in to the angry growl that challenged her to use the safe word.
She had jerked with every blow, felt her juices flowing and saw jiggling breasts reflected on mirror panels that covered one wall. She had howled in anger and shame. But she also saw herself arching up to meet his hand.
The face in the mirror had been slack with desire even as her womb tightened. She saw the woman throw her head up and lick her lips between moans. He had gripped her hair, forcing a Kaine to confront her lust, her screams of ecstasy. She was shocked but finally, instantaneously, understood, because his hand wasn't gentler, if at all it was rougher.
And then she had brought her breasts to the floor, pressed her forehead on the antique Afghan carpet and heaved flanks high to offer her cunt. Kaine wailed out her submission in a hoarse voice. She forgot about pride as she writhed and wept from need, begging for more, more, more, until she erupted in a spray that soaked Lex's entire shirtfront.
He hadn't penetrated her at all. Not that night.
He'd picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. He laid Kaine down and dragged her legs so they dangled over the bed. And then he had lapped and lapped at her opening like a hungry wolf, slapping against vulva and clit. He nibbled and chewed and bite and sucked at her thighs and her plump, shaven mound, before his fingers stretched her sides and his tongue came back to whack and slide around her clit until she convulsed in orgasm.
Later, he had comforted her. He took no delight in having anyone grovel; she knew that now. But he was right in pointing out that pretense for the sake of pride was a game no sub-Dom relationship would survive.
Lex had always known she could and would obey orders. He had also known it was more pride and courage than submission.
That was what he slowly stripped away over the months - topping from the bottom, something Kaine had excelled at all her adult life. He allowed it some nights as a reward, always informing her in advance.
Kaine pauses. She rolls tight shoulders forward then back. She feels like she'd crammed a month's work into a week.
The long hours had made her turn in this assignment two days late.
She feels her loins flutter. There will be a price to pay.
"There is always a special thrill in that first moment, when your hand grabs me. There is that great divide - the civilized conversation, your modulated voice, our calm demeanor, and then a sudden leap into the wild."
"It is mostly when I least expect it. Always, I brace for it. Always, it surprises me."
"In that split-second my stomach lurches, fear sweeps over me. And yet there is great relief that swirls within and a silent, grateful 'Yes!' in my mind."
Lex frowns as Kaine exits the shaded quadrangle and makes for a green bench. Then he remembers. He is half an hour early.
He watches as Kaine taps out a cigarette, lights it and turns her face up to the sky with the first exhalation of smoke. It is such a sensual move; it stops a pair of male students who stare for several seconds before their peers jostle them.
