Hi guys! This is my first BDSM submission so be kind! I enjoy comments but I don't like when people are blatantly rude. If for whatever reason my information isn't accurate please tell me! I'm open to helpful criticism. I hope you enjoy Autumn and Christopher's story.
It is a cold winter night. I blow a tuft of my unruly copper colored hair out of my emerald eyes.
He
always loved my hair. A small cloud forms where my hot breath touches the frosty air. Small, white snowflakes drift lazily from above and land on my hair and coat.
Luckily I dressed warm tonight. My small feet are enveloped snuggly in my leather boots with the fur trim, my jeans are tucked into my boots and retain my body heat well. My black pea-coat covers
His
flannel I'm wearing, the soft fabric brushes against my skin and I bask in it's warmth. I can still smell the musky cologne
He
always wore. My head swims with its intoxicating aroma. Still, as warmly as I've dressed, I stamp my feet and rub my shoulders trying to ward off the bitter cold.
I am standing in front of the building where it all began. The windows, which we warm and inviting on the night of the event, are dark and forbidding tonight. I wonder what I would be doing right now if I had not met
Him
. I knew that I would not be standing outside this building, marveling at it's significance. Tears well unbidden into my eyes and slowly drip down my rosy cheeks as silent sobs wreck my body with the bittersweet memory this place invokes.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
ONE YEAR EARLIER
I am sitting on my couch running my fingers through the soft fur of my cat, Maleficent. I have a mug of hot chocolate clasped in my other hand and take absentminded sips every now and then. My roommate Avery is rushing about in a frenzy, getting ready for that night's art gallery opening that was debuting some of her art work. Her body is encased in a floor length shimmering gold dress with matching heels that accentuated her golden skin and hair. It is very like Avery to begin getting ready hours before a night out and this was the biggest night for her of the year. She is primping and prodding herself to perfection. I on the other hand am still snuggled in my leggings and Doctor Who robe, perfectly content to procrastinate till the end.
"Autumn! Honestly, this is the most important night of my career! I need you to be there for me and you haven't even begun getting ready yet! The show begins is a couple hours!"
"Relax Avery. I've never taken as long as you to get ready. I'll be on time as always."
"I know. I know. But it can't hurt to get ready now, can it?" I gaze up at her lazily with a half smile and sigh.
"Alright," I give up, "but I really won't take two hours. One at most."
Reluctantly I withdraw my fingers from my cat, which earns me a meow of protest and a small sneeze. Taking my mug with me I head to my room, humming a meaningless tune to myself. There in my closet, encased in a garment bag, is my carefully selected (by Avery) dress. It is the most expensive item I own but Avery had assured me when I'd bought it that it would go with almost every occasion. It is actually quite simple, which is why I like it. All black with long sleeves, a scoop neck, and a plunging back that shows the smooth milky skin of my shoulder blades. It is mid thigh in length and clings to my body like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. My heels have the extra benefit of giving my five foot two height another four inches. They are a metallic color that catch light and reflect it, almost making it look like an open flame.
The only jewelry I ever wear is the gold ring on my right ring finger, which had been my mother's first ring ever given to her by my father, and my pearls. They had been given to me by my parents on the night of my high school graduation. Pearl earrings and a pearl necklace that nestled right above my collar bones. They were elegant and refined. My hair, I decided, would be worn loose and wild, the natural ringlets framing my face and traveling down to my waist.
"I'm ready!" I call to Avery in triumph. The whole process had taken about fifteen minutes.
"It's not possible that you are already done! You've only been in there for, like, five minutes." Avery responds in exasperation. I saunter into her room to show her how ready I really am and am met with exuberant gushes on how great I looked.
"Can I do your makeup? Please! I have the perfect look for that outfit." Avery pleads and gazes at me. I was hopeless.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I take one last look at my unrecognizable face, all done up with an intense smoky eye that had so much glitter it looked like the night sky, the red lipstick artfully applied added a flare of color to contrast my pale skin. Avery, being the artistic type, had referred to my green eyes and red lipstick as 'complementary colors' even though I'd complained that I thought I looked like Christmas. Stepping from my car I have to admit that Avery had done one hell of a job, even if the look wasn't really
me.
Inside were tons of people milling about with champagne flutes clasped in their hands. I immediately gulp, but hand my ticket to the young man at the entrance, who is dressed in a nice tuxedo.
"Have a wonderful night." He recites in a chipper voice.
"Thank you."
"Autumn!" Avery is waving her hand in the air and smiling broadly upon seeing me. She waves me over to the small group she is surrounded by and makes hasty introductions, including her new boy toy for the night, Andrew. He is tall with dark hair and eyes and looks like he could be a male model. Nothing but the best for Avery. He has Avery's arm tucked securely in his, looking like the perfect escort. She chats for a few more minutes before whisking herself and Andrew off to another group. I dry wash my hands and glance nervously at the people standing around me. They all chat away about nonsensical things and basically ignore me.
"Excuse me." I murmur and make a hasty retreat. Away from the groups I take a deep breath and examine the artwork around the room. From paintings to sculptures, the diversity of talent was astonishing. I slowly walk from piece to piece, not wanting to miss a single one. At some my face would scrunch up in distaste and at others my breath would literally be taken away. About halfway through the room I am stopped at a painting with so many different colors and textures that you wouldn't think it would look good but it did when I felt a warm presence at my back. I move quickly to the side, as to not be in the way, and pivot on my feet to glance at the person. When I meet his gaze my heart stops. He is the most handsome man I've ever seen. He wore a fitted black Armani suit with a pale grey undershirt with the top buttons undone. His body is lithe, agile, and tall; he must workout. His hair is stylishly messy and a dark brown; a five o'clock shadow just subtly makes his jaw darker. His eyes are a dark blue and brazenly hold my gaze, quirking an eyebrow in the process. I blush and look down.
"Good evening. Enjoying the artwork? You don't seem amused by the festivities." His voice washes over me and glance behind just to make sure he really is talking to me.
"Um, yes I'm enjoying the artwork. I don't like crowds of people, especially these kinds of people." My mouth snaps shut as I realize how the sentence might have sounded. He is, after all, 'these kind of people'. Rich and snotty.
"'These kinds of people'? What ever could you mean?" He smirks and runs his finger along the lip of his champagne flute, making a small ringing noise, his charismatic eyes never leaving mine. I blush and look down again, clearing my throat. He let it drop.
"If you're not here for the company then you must be here for the artwork, though people usually come to these things to mingle not gape. Unless of' course you're an artist?" I meet his warm eyes again.
"No, not me. A friend." I sound almost monotone.
"A boyfriend?" He inquires softly.
Flushing, I glance down at my knotted fingers. He's being so personal! "Uh, no, not a boyfriend. I don't have one. My best friend's artwork is on display tonight. I've come as support." I manage in a husky whisper. I peek up at him, but upon noticing his intent gaze, looking to be seizing me up, cast my eyes down again. This behavior is very different for me. Where is my backbone? Have I suddenly gone wimpy in the presence of this Adonis?
Suddenly, like a striking snake, he grasps my jaw in his firm hand and jerks my gaze back. His eyes are smoldering. My shriek, played down from shock, only comes out as a small squeak, whooshed past clenched teeth. My eyes are as wide as they will go and I know I look incredulous.
"W-what are you do-,"
"Silence, pet!" He commands and my jaw snaps shut with an audible thwack. What's wrong with me? I should put this pompous ass in his place! All I can hear is my ragged breathing and hammering heart.
My immediate compliance seems to please him or so I assume because the only indication I get is a smile smile twitching the corner of his mouth. His smile makes it seem as if he is privy to something I'm not. Like he holds some vast knowledge in his grasp. A shudder runs through me, but not because of fear. To my complete surprise I am already incredibly aroused. This is the biggest shock to me. How could this man who I knew less than five minutes have this affect on me? It must be the good looks I decided.
He slowly reaches his thumb up and lightly strokes it along my cheek bone. Just that small touch sends liquid heat to my nether regions. I blink and gasp another breath. He leans in and his cologne washes over me. It smells wild and dangerous and had to be the most potent aphrodisiac I have and would ever come across.
"No longer wanting to protest are we pet? Such little touches and you're already putty in my hands." He chuckles and embraces me, placing one warm hand on my back exposed by my dress. He makes swirl patterns.
"How did you know?" I gasp.
"Your breathing is uneven and every time I touch you it hitches. Your skin is flushed and your eyes grew softer, the edge was taken off. Most noticeably, to me at least, is you've pressed your thighs together and you're leaning into me." I then become distinctly aware of his hard frame pressed tightly against my soft curves. How must we look in this intimate embrace? I flush and glance around the room. Nobody seems to notice us.
"I-I, um-," my voice falters when he leans down and swipes a piece of my hair off my face and brushes his lips against mine. An involuntary moan escapes my parted lips and he presses a little closer. It's not quite a kiss, more of a tease, but my head still spins.
"Autumn!" Abruptly I'm pulled from the man's embrace by a very hostile Avery. She glares at me and turns towards the man. "Mr. Anderson." She snaps in greeting, waves of displeasure radiating from her.
"Ms. Stone." Christopher nods cooly. They know each other. I feel my ears burn as my mind runs through all the scenarios that Avery and a very attractive man would go through to have such hostility to the other. I want to cry as I come to the conclusion that they slept together, most likely a one night stand but still. And here I was making a complete fool of myself, melting at the first sign of attention that comes my way. I'm ashamed and flick my hair forward to cover my blush. Avery turns to me still glaring but catches sight of my face and instantly changes to shock and compassion.
"Autumn what's wrong?"
"Nothing." I mumble, glancing at Mr. Anderson. He stares back at me, his eyes softening, a ghost of a smile passes his lips.
