The Coffee Shoppe Ch 01

The breeze was blowing through the green umbrella awning causing the edging to flap noisily. Inside the music was playing just above a conversational tone, Dean, Frank, Satchmo and Peggy and others singing the classics.

Students, sales people, an occasional teacher, moms with kids in tow, and grandparents having a day out with their little ones all line the tables and window counter as the aroma of fresh brewed coffee wafts through the air and blends with the sweet smell of baked goods and cinnamon.

Their vehicles are equally diverse. The parking lot is shared by a white Dodge Charger, a green Toyota Tundra, a red Camry and a gold Ford Explorer.

A mysterious black Jaguar enters the lot, circles and scans for available spaces. The glossy finish reflects the light in a series of starburst glare flashes. It glides quietly into a space away from the door. The door opens. A silken leg appears, then a second.

She stood and surveyed the parking lot. Dressed in a simple but elegant black dress, she looked every bit as sleek as her car. Statuesque and regal she moved with a sensual air that bespoke her nature. She entered the coffee shop and saw him.

In the corner he sat. The New York Times in his hand and an espresso on the table, he looked up over his glasses and back into the newspaper. The markets were fluctuating in the traditional January sell off and profit - taking frenzy. His portfolio was diversified and he knew now was the time to buy as others were selling. He was wise and shrewd, qualities that had served him well over the years. He also possessed an uncanny ability to read people, a magnetic charisma and disarming charm.

Hers was a fortune made from the proceeds of three failed marriages to men who worshipped her flawless body but disrespected her mind. She was intelligent, beautiful, cunning and... dangerous.

Her exquisite body, porcelain complexion, pouting lips and mesmerizing eyes provided all the tools she needed to captivate, manipulate and devastate any man. She was the consummate "black widow".

She ordered her small no water vanilla chai latte and took a seat with her back to him but positioned so she could watch him in the convex security mirror in the corner. She saw him glance up from his paper and new that the bait was enticing and the trap had been set.

He repositioned himself so he could get a better look at the target. Her body was a delightful display of curves and symmetry. Her ebony hair cascaded below her shoulders and was sensually draped over her left shoulder, revealing a tiny delicate spider tattoo on her right shoulder just barely peeking out from the Grecian drop shoulder dress. The best he could see of her legs from his vantage point revealed long sculpted calves dissolving into slim ankles disappearing into six inch black heels. He was definitely a leg man. He saw her gaze at the security mirror and he knew the trap had been set and she was taking the bait.

Two predators engaged in an epic battle for superiority, they danced the sensual dance of intrigue. An intellectual paso doble as each plotted the domination of the other.

They were not strangers. They had met five years ago.

He was an international business man functioning as a border broker for small independent companies trying to break into emerging European markets in a rising global economy.

She was an aspiring chemist trying to market her skills to international pharmaceutical companies as a research analyst. She had worked on some groundbreaking projects as an intern and junior associate in the U.S. but politics and her beauty kept getting in the way of her career growth. Her male supervisors were either so distracted by her that they couldn't function or they were constantly offering to advance her career in exchange for sexual favors, an invitation she considered but chose not to accept.

She actually may have acquiesced if they had respected her mind as well as her body but instead they were only focused on the sexual nature of their propositions. Her female superiors were threatened by both her beauty and her intellect.

She sought the European manufacturers because she knew that even though there would still be sexual advances at least women in science were respected for their mental abilities as well.

It wasn't that she didn't like sex. She did. In fact, she had a nearly insatiable drive and some rather unusual requirements.

In the lab and the office she wanted to establish herself at the top of the food chain. She knew she had the ability, the intellect, ambition and the courage to take on and dominate any man in her profession.

"Dominate" what a strange word.

It takes on different connotations depending on the context even though the definition retains its integrity.

She could certainly professionally dominate any man; and her libido had no equal. However it was in her intimate life that the contradiction appeared. For this woman of power, talent and professional superiority wanted nothing of it in her sex life. She did not want to tell a man what she wanted from him. She did not want him to try and please her with his technique, his stamina nor the size of his endowment. No. What she wanted was for him to totally dominate her. She did not want pain and blood or injury. But she did want domination, total and complete domination.

She would not simply comply for that would not be domination. She would resist. She must resist.

He MUST Dominate.

He must grab her by the arm with force. He must use his size and weight to force her to her knees. He must grab her hair and pull back her head as he grasps her throat. He must force his blood engorged sex into her mouth and he must demand that she suck him dry.

He must rip her clothes away and press her to the ground to have his pleasure with her. He must force her legs apart while he buries his face in her crotch, licking and orally stimulating her to intense orgasm even amidst her most ardent protestations. He MUST dominate her.

He must roll her over, binding her legs and ankles together and lifting her ass in the air and then he must use her womanhood and her ass interchangeably to reach his ultimate climax and then spew his load over her defenseless body. Then he must leave her as she lies, bound, sticky with semen and sweat and craving more, until his refractory period has completed its cycle and he resumes his domination again using her every orifice to take his pleasure.

This complete domination will result in her own quivering spasms of orgasmic relief.

This domination she sought, she demanded.

She had let it be known in certain circles that any man who could so dominate her would gain a submissive servant beyond anything he could imagine. Three husbands had tried unsuccessfully to do so. One had not the physical prowess and the other two were intellectually inferior to her. For to truly dominate, one must be both the physical and intellectual superior of the other.

................................

She sat in the coffee shop contemplating the mysterious figure she so ardently watched in the mirror. Was he the one? She had heard there was one seeking to match her. She had heard that he was more mature than most of her suitors, reasonably pleasant on the eyes with a strong will and intellect. She did not know who it would be until now.

He watched now in less a subtle manner. A patron entered and as the door opened, a breeze lifted her skirt slightly and at the same time floated her napkin on a cushion of air off the table and onto the floor. She left her seat just enough to reach down and retrieve it.

His eyes dilated as he saw her perfectly toned rear and delicious legs along with her round bosom all move in concert and reveal a taste of what could be. A temptation indeed. A challenge, for sure. He smiled and said to himself: "This is going to be fun."

(to be continued)