Roc and Water

This is the second to last installment for Rock and Water. While I'm excited to move on to new projects, I'm already beginning to mourn the end to my first story, and it's characters. Thanks to all who have followed from the beginning, with special thanks to FA_JF and lindseymarsh for their keen eyes. A shout out is deserved to everyone's favorite Brit for his advice on all things England, and educating me that there are, in fact, no ranches there.

***

Master.

Such a loaded word. In the most basic terms, it defines one person's authority over another; but in the context of my relationship with Patrick, the use of the word goes so much deeper, and brings such pleasure to us both. It's a word I'd never considered using, even as my interest in bdsm burgeoned. It felt contrived, as if the use of it only confirmed that bedroom games were being played. I still primarily call him Sir, but there are times during our sexual adventures, that nothing less than 'master' will do. At those times, I want to leave him with no doubt about my love, my trust, and my deference to his wicked desires.

There have been times that we've surprised each other, with how potent and dark our explorations have taken us. We've had some heart to hearts whether they could harm the foundation we're building together, one that will very soon include having Addie back at home, and me working full-time again. For as much as power exchange has begun to creep into our everyday lives, there have been as many occasions where Patrick checks in with me, making sure I have little doubt of his love or respect, along with his commitment to our relationship.

Though, in those moments where I give myself to him, the peace I find in exposing my most base and raw desires to him, trusting him to guide me safely through those dark waters, have been the most sexually charged and freeing of my life.

These are the thoughts that pass through my Ambien -addled brain at a cruising altitude of 36,000 feet as we cross the country, and soon the Atlantic, to visit Addie in London. It's been three weeks since the pivotal evening that introduced Patrick's desire to be called Master, and my desire to feel owned.

In that time, very little has changed in our day to day, except that my kitchen is up and functioning again and I've started going back to the office once weekly to begin brainstorming for shows and interviews I'd like to do in September. Our worlds have begun to cross over, friends meeting friends.

We've gotten together with Gil and Vanessa a few times, and took Johanna and her husband to The Market for dinner one evening. Like teenagers, Johanna less than subtly leaned over during dinner to whisper in my ear, "OMG...he's hot!" Of course, it was heard by half the restaurant. Vanessa and Johanna hit it off, and the three of us have met for hikes and drinks on a few occasions.

As planned, we took Luka to my recording studio, and were both blown away by how much he understood all of the technical aspects of running a radio station. Although I'm sure the topics bored the hell out of him, he insisted on staying to watch a colleague deliver an hour of news.

I feel my eyes closing as I catch one last glance of Patrick asleep beside me, and before I drift a rush of childlike excitement runs through me once again, for my excitement of seeing Addie, and for the two of them finally meeting. While Patrick has become incredibly important to me, and my love for him deeper than any I've held for a man before, Addie will always be my number one.

***

As soon as we pass through customs and security, we spot Addie and her father, my ex-husband Frank. With just enough time for me to hurl my bags to the ground, she launches herself into my arms. Both men are lost to me as I hold my girl for the first time in almost two months. I try to hold in my tears so as not to embarrass her, but I just can't help it and as I finally move back and hold her at arm's distance away, I see matching tears have wet her cheeks too. We whisper our love, and how much we've missed each other, then return to our tight embrace once again. In the periphery, I see Patrick walk over to Frank and the two shake hands and make introductions.

Finally emerging from our happy bubble, we find the two men standing next to each other, both smiling at the spectacle of our mother-daughter reunion tear-fest. I quickly step forward and give Frank a tight hug. His arm quickly envelopes my waist, treating me to a familiar and warm squeeze.

"Hi, Frank. It's good to see you."

His warm, brown eyes smile back at me, and I already know everything between us is good. He is still as handsome as I remember; only an inch or two shorter than Patrick's 6'3", his body is just a bit thicker, his shoulders broader. His dark brown hair has grown longer, curling just above the collar of his button down shirt. The beard that he'd worn for the last few years of our marriage is gone, making him look younger and more relaxed than he has in years.

"It's good to see you too, Corrine."

In my excitement for Addie to meet Patrick, I hadn't anticipated how it would feel to see Frank again, and I have to admit a small rush goes through me at the easy familiarity there is between us. It's not sexual, but almost like coming home. Some bonds don't break, even if divorce papers declare it so.

"Thanks for finding a place for us to stay, so close to you two."

"No Problem. My mates are off on holiday for the week and it suited them to have their cat looked after anyway. Addie's decided after all that she'd like to stay with you, so we've been through and set up the extra room."

This is a surprise to me; a very nice one. While Addie had seemed enthusiastic about meeting Patrick, the last she'd told me was that she'd prefer to stay with Frank until Patrick left after a few days to stay with his friends just outside of Bedford.

It's Addie who breaks the silence, "Um...Mom?" I can see she's looking shyly up at Patrick.

"Oh, of course...," I shake my head a bit, still spacey from the long flight. "Addie, this is Patrick." I then turn to Patrick, "Patrick, this is my girl, Addie. Looks like you've already met Frank."

Patrick steps forward to Addie first, extending his hand to shake hers. She looks a bit stricken and takes a step backwards towards Frank, who reflexively puts his hand on her shoulder. Patrick's hand immediately drops, and he stops where he is, giving her the space she needs, but a warm smile crosses his face.

"Addie, it's so nice to meet you after all this time. Your mom has told me so much about you."

In typical tween fashion, Addie rolls her eyes and groans, burying her face in Frank's arm which has Frank and I chuckling, and Patrick looking totally lost. "Ughhh. I can only imagine. Mom...what have you told him?"

I pull her back to me and squeeze her against me. "Nothing you wouldn't tell him yourself...but I did show him your baby pictures."

"MOM!!"

Patrick speaks up. "Seriously though, Addie, you were a pretty cute kid. The pictures were great."

She looks at him warily. "Uh, sure...whatever you say."

He continues, obviously trying to find some footing with her. "Your mom tells me you've ridden horses a few times. My friends, just outside of the city, have a few and would love you to come out and ride with us."

She just stares at Patrick a bit, biting on her lower lip and clearly unsure of what to make of him.

"Um...thanks. I don't know." She looks down at the ground, shrugs and walks back over to Frank, who whispers in her ear, causing her to shrug again.

In two steps I'm in front of her, taking her hands in mine. "It's okay, hon. I know this is weird for you and it's going to take some time."

When she looks up her eyes are moist. "I'm sorry mom. I just...I want to be cool about this but it's just weird that he's here...and dad's here." Addie pauses, and before she can stop herself blurts out, "Shite!"

All at the same time, Patrick bursts into laughter, I look at her stunned, and Frank quickly whispers, "Addie! What did I say about using that word?"

She stands up a little taller, and says back to him, "You said words are just words, and unless they're said in malice that it's all cool...except at school...or in front of grandparents."

I just smile and nod. "I see you're getting an education in English dialect while here."

This earns me another eye role, while Frank buries his head in his hands and Patrick continues to stifle his laughter.

Frank regains his composure and grabs my bag. "Alright then; let's head to the car park."

***

We arrive at the flat that Frank's friend is loaning us for the week. Once again, Frank grabs my bag, hauling it up the three flights for me, while Patrick carries his own and our carry-on. The master bedroom has been set up for Patrick and me, while a spare room has Addie's suitcase already resting on the bed.

I feel wistful seeing her bag on the small bed, and before I can say anything Patrick walks purposefully into the room and throws his suitcase on the bed.

"Addie, no reason for you not to spend the nights with your mom; you've been away from each other so long."

With that, he picks up Addie's bag and walks it over to the master bedroom, setting it next to my own where Frank had left it. Addie immediately brightens up and begins to bounce up and down a little, clearly excited by the idea. In the short time since I'd discovered Addie would be staying with us at the flat, I hadn't realized how conflicted I felt about sleeping in a room with Patrick. Suddenly I feel the weight of my anxiety roll off my body, causing me to be as giddy as she is.

I look over her shoulder at Patrick, and mouth a quiet, "Thank you."

A warm smile and slight nod tells me all I need to know.

***

The next few days are most definitely the most platonic Patrick and I have ever spent together, but also some of the most fun too. Addie, Patrick and I have filled our days with every tourist attraction we could, including a Jack the Ripper tour, a trip to Madame Tussauds, and even taking pictures of ourselves at the Abbey Road crossing. Addie seems more at ease with Patrick outside of the flat, even ribbing him a bit about his mild claustrophobia as we rode the London Eye. He took it in good nature, but even I had to admit I'd never seen him look so pale.

In the flat, though, she barely mumbles a word to him. Unless he goes off on his own, she buries herself in books. For that reason, Patrick takes many walks "to explore the neighborhood" during these days, to allow Addie and I to spend time on our own. He doesn't want to push her into liking him, and I appreciate his restraint.

On his last night with us, before Patrick leaves to stay with his friends, Frank and his girlfriend take Addie and a friend to a concert. She plans to sleep at the friends, giving Patrick and me our first night alone since arriving in London. Once he leaves, Addie and I will have a few days together to shop and hang out before I go to meet him on the farm. There have been discussions on whether Addie would like to join us out there for the day to go horseback riding, but she's still undecided.

These have been some of my happiest days in years, and glimmers of hope fill me as I consider a future together as a family. Long days of exploring London, followed by late night girl-talks with Addie, have kept Patrick and I at arm's length since we've arrived. Even when we've been alone, affection has been limited to fleeting kisses and rare embraces. Considering the focus our relationship has had on sex and pleasure, it's reassuring to see how easy we are together during more platonic times.

Patrick seems happy too, but it occurs to me that we've only spent a few days with Addie, and wonder whether he truly understands what life will be like once she's home again. Although there'll be weekends with her grandparents and the occasional sleepover with friends, she's going to be in the house more often than not.

***

After dropping Addie off at Frank's house, we stop for some curry, eating out of containers at a local park. We sit in the grass, across from each other, eating mostly in silence. Neither of us have mentioned heading out for the night, which is fine by me as his smoldering looks throughout the meal have my panties damp and my nipples stiffening beneath my summer dress. We leave more than we eat, too impatient to be bothered.

Setting our food aside, Patrick gently pulls me forward into his arms, then guides me back until I'm lying in the grass with him above me, held up by his strong arms as he looks down at me with fire in his eyes.

"I want you, Corrine..." He reaches down and runs his slightly calloused thumb over my top lip first, then drags it across the bottom lip of my slightly open mouth. My tongue darts out, making contact with the tip, tasting remnants of the samosa he just ate. I brazenly lean down and trap his thumb, down to the knuckle, between my teeth and lips and suck hard as I look up into his eyes. Heat radiates from his gaze, and a low growl escapes his throat.

Once I release him, his mouth crashes down onto my own; the full weight of his firm body blankets mine. Lost in our kiss, we fail to notice a group of teenage girls gathered on a wall nearby until their giggles break through our erotic haze. We stand and give a slight bow to the girls, before cleaning up and heading back to the flat.

Just blocks from the flat, I'm surprised as Patrick pulls me into a small market and begins to search the aisles with an obvious mission. I'm only left with more questions when he grabs an electric toothbrush from the shelf, then two boxes of cling wrap, before heading towards the pharmacy section of the store. He slows as we reach treatments for cough and colds, looking keenly at the products until he finds what he's looking for. Vicks Vapor rub.

Realization dawns on me for what he has in mind. My whole body turns soft as heat suffuses through my core and wetness escapes my swelling pussy lips, quickly saturating my panties. I'd previously shared with Patrick that in one of my phone sessions with Robert, he'd instructed me to gently rub tiger balm over the hood of my clit and around my tight, puckered asshole. The tingles and heat that penetrated deep into those erotic tissues ignited sensations that shook me to my core. Patrick had asked me if I'd ever like to try it again and I recall blushing furiously and eagerly nodding my head. That was almost two months ago, and we haven't discussed it again.

Just the thought of playing with menthol again, especially with Patrick, has my whole body buzzing as we pay for our purchases and walk back to the flat. I'm practically trotting with eagerness while he's as calm and contained as ever, although a smile keeps dancing on his features in response to my clear excitement.

As we take our last steps up to the fourth floor, he jokes, "You're awfully excited tonight, Corrine. How can you be so sure I don't have a cold coming on and need a little menthol rubbed on my chest and a good night sleep?"

"Well then...," I say, with feigned sympathy, "Let's get you straight to bed. Once you're asleep you won't be needing this!" As soon as we close the door behind us I make a grab for the bag, but before I can reach it he tosses it on the couch and with little effort pins me against the wall; his hands capturing my forearms on either side of my face. His touch is firm, but not rough in the least. His blue eyes shine down on me. My gaze fixates on his lips. Unconsciously, my own tongue travels along my lower lip, moistening it in anticipation.

"Sir?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"I've missed this. I've missed you."

An undefinable emotion sweeps over his face before he folds me into his arms, his head leaning onto my own.

"I've missed being close to you too, Corrine, but I have to say these past days with Addie have meant the world to me. She's absolutely a killer girl...just like her mom. Funny, sweet, a bit nerdy." He shakes his head slowly, and sighs. "I hope I've made a good impression...I hope she's okay with this."

I run my fingers through his hair, then gently down his trimmed beard. "I think she is. It's just going to take some time. These are hard years for her, especially with Frank and I divorced; but it's been long enough now that she's mostly accepted it. It'll just be a matter of whether she can handle sharing me once we get home."

"I'm in this for the long-haul...I hope you know that." He's looking down on me with a sincerity that makes my heart explode.

I push myself up on to tip-toes and graze my lips against his.

"I know that, Patrick. I'm with you there."

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Standing up, he takes a step back, his hands on my shoulders. His voice deepens; the tone more commanding.

"Okay then, sweetheart...are you going to be a good girl for me tonight, or do you need a reminder of what happens when you're naughty?"

"Oh, no Sir...I mean, yes. I'll be good!"

My eyes flit over once again to the innocuous bag sitting on the couch containing the recipe for my torture and my pleasure tonight.

His gaze follows mine to the plain brown sack, then taking my hand, he leads me over to the couch and we sit on either side of the bag. He doesn't make a move to open it.

His voice startles me. It's warm, deep, and pensive. "It's wonderful how for most of the population, the items that line the shelves of markets and pharmacies are just what they seem to be at face value; never would they imagine other possible uses. Aren't you lucky to have a boyfriend who recognizes these items for their other potentials?"

"You're the kinky MacGyver!" I blurt out.

Patrick bursts out in laughter, failing in his attempt to issue me a stern look.

He reaches forward and secures my chin between his thumb and forefinger, catching my attention and sending a rush of excitement through me. In a cautioning voice that belies his clear amusement, he says, "Shush, naughty girl..."

He continues. "But you're like me, aren't you? When you see clothes hanging by clothespins in neighbor's yards, you blush when you remember what those clips feel like pinching your most intimate flesh. When you see long, thick vegetables at the market, you ponder how they'd feel, imagining them in all three of your holes."

As he talks, my skin begins to prickle and my face and neck begin to flush.

"Lastly, Corrine, I've seen how your body responds when I pull my belt out of my pants, even on nights we aren't playing."

My breath catches. He knows me so well. He could be miles away and all I have to do is imagine his hand on his belt, slowly pulling it from the belt loops, and my clit tingles.

"Which leads us to tonight, when you saw me take the Vicks from the shelf; you immediately knew what I had in mind. It made my cock hard to hear your breath quicken...to see that little shiver go through your sweet body."

A blush travels down my body, caressing my skin in heat. I look back to his eyes, pleading with my own for him to touch me. Pushing the bag off the couch, his strong hands are on my hips, pulling me up and over so I'm straddling his thighs, facing him.

Passive at first, he lets me lead the kiss we started in the park. My tongue penetrates his lips; touching the tip of his before slipping in, letting our tongues caress each other in an erotic dance. My mind begins to slip into that soft, familiar space deep inside, where all else but sensation and submission to Patrick cease to exist.

I break from the kiss to look at him. A calm intensity transforms his features; a tethered strength emanates where from moments before tenderness had prevailed.

I can also feel his now semi-rigid cock pressing against my mound, and I begin to rock my hips in a slow rhythm. The skirt of my dress has ridden above my hips, and my saturated panties are rough against my pussy lips and clit. I begin to grind hard on his cock, causing the crotch of my cotton panties to bunch and push between my greedy lips.