I could see that she had opened the door as instructed as I walked confidently up the path. No point in looking around nervously, suspiciously attracting unwanted attention. No, if anyone saw me they would figure I had a clear and invited intent to visit, which, indeed I had.
I should find her sitting on the chair in the kitchen, looking outwards through the patio doors, wearing a dressing gown and underwear. Hair tied up. No perfume, no deodorant. I wanted to experience her natural smell. I asked her to be ready by twelve, wait for my arrival shortly afterwards. There was to be no greeting, no turning towards me. She would sense my presence approach with silent deliberation.
I entered her house, turning in the direction of the kitchen. She was sitting there, waiting, compliant with my requests. I moved towards her, taking the silk scarf from my coat pocket, passing it over her head, blindfolding her.
"Don't move," I breathed in her ear. "I'm in control today, only do as I say, when I say."
I moved back to remove my coat and boots. I wanted the silence to remain. I spread out the lunch things I had prepared on the kitchen table. Not much, just nibbles and bites. Different flavours and textures, little things I knew she would like. When I had suggested lunch, this was not what she expected.
I moved back towards her. I stood for a moment in silence. She would be sensing me close by, puzzled at what I may be doing. Waiting for something, but not knowing what. I asked her to stand. I slipped off her dressing gown letting it fall to the floor. I stood again in silence, taking her in, admiring her shapes and curves. Her neck, exposed. I walked around, the sight of breasts having the same impact on me as they always did since our first meeting.
I stood behind the chair, leaning forward and unclipping her bra. She shook herself free. I could see her reflection in the glass doors, her breasts now exposed for me. 'God I love those', I thought inwardly. The creamy paleness, the softness. The light colour of her nipples.
I instructed her to sit. I reached around to guide her arms behind the chair, lightly tying her wrists together with another scarf I had brought for the purpose. I would leave these behind as a present - a small gift to say how good she had been in following my orders. My intention was to hold her hands just tightly enough that she couldn't take control back. If I was near her, I didn't want her to reach out to touch me. If I moved away, I didn't want her to touch herself. I knelt down close to her, pressing into her neck, whispering.
"Hungry?"
She went to reply, I cut her off.
"No, no talking."
She nodded silently.
"For me?" I asked.
She nodded.
I kissed her neck, her head turning to the side, tilting in response. A small gasp and I could see her chest press outwards. She looked vulnerable, but a vulnerability that I could sense she was enjoying. My mouth hovered close to her. She would feel my hot breath against her neck, aware of my closeness.
"Then you shall eat."
I looked across at my selection. 'Something sweet to start with', I mused. All things tasty, I wanted her to enjoy, not be repulsed, so no real surprises. I could tease, but I didn't know her well enough yet. This was just s little game, getting to know her better. What she liked. Her reactions. A true learning experience for me, perhaps also for her. A little fun. It was also to be about her. I only wanted the satisfaction of her pleasure in my attention. I wanted to leave with her longing for more, and to return again for the pleasure for me next time.
So for this encounter, although I was in charge, my focus was on her. My own needs could wait, but then again, perhaps they were being satisfied from the moment I suggested 'lunch'.
I chose a strawberry, always a good start. Good quality, she deserved the best. I held it close to her lips, letting the scent drift into her nose. She smiled, recognising what is was, relaxing now she realised that it was something she would not recoil from. I pressed it against her lips. She didn't move. I hesitated realising now that she was truly being obedient, waiting for my instruction.
"Bite" I said.
She opened her mouth slightly, moved forward and bit through the fruit. The juice ran across her teeth, she sucked in. I pressed the strawberry back against her lips, she bit again taking the remainder in, her lips turning red. I placed my own lips to them, tasting the flavour myself. Sweet. She smiled again; she was enjoying this game.
I chose something savoury. A piece is sushi. Even though I didn't know her too well, I had checked for any allergies. I wouldn't want her hyperventilating and turning red on me, well not in response to food anyway. I touched her lips, signalling for them to open. She bit forward, a little shocked at the saltiness at first, but then a realisation of what it was. She nodded her head in appreciation, pursing her lips.
I continued in this way, alternating sweet with savoury, some bites greeted with a nod of approval, some getting a shake of her head. But this lunch was just a prelude. A prelude to my touch. I wanted to explore her. I wanted to make her feel good. I knew that she often went solo, attempting to satisfy her intense craving for the intimacy which her husband could no longer provide, well not in the manner in which she wanted. This was my opportunity to take her to the levels that she desired, to satisfy her need to be touched by someone unfamiliar.
Although we had now met on a few occasions, the excitement of someone new was not diminishing. If anything, the feelings were getting stronger. How far would we go together? How long would we continue to meet in these brief encounters to absolve us from our mutual frustrations?