Emma was not expecting him. In fact, he had said he couldn't get away. She was enjoying a nice dinner at the hotel restaurant with friends. When he walks in it's as if she can sense his very existence. Their eyes meet and Kent smiles for the briefest moment.
They seat him at a table in the room, but his back is to her. The conversation continues around Emma, but her attention can no longer be held with what has now become monotonous blabbering. The waiter delivers a glass of wine and an appetizer to his table. Kent calmly sits, not turning around. Emma on the other hand is doing everything in her power not to jump out of her seat and approach him. She nods, smiling at the people at her table but continuously watches him. Concentration on anything else is impossible. There is only Kent. Emma becomes wet just looking at him, thinking about what may happen. The memories of their last encounter flowing through her head.
Kent stands and starts to walk towards the restrooms, at the last moment he glances at Emma and jerks his head in invitation. With barely suppressed excitement, Emma makes excuses at the table and tries to walk calmly to the restroom. As she turns the corner into the alcove Kent is there. Pinning her against the wall, he ravishes her mouth. Sliding his hand down her skirt and between her legs, fingering Emma briefly. Cupping her he states simply and without question "This is mine." She manages a weak, breathless, "Yes." He grabs her ass with his other hand and says "I own this." Emma nods in response. As he removes his hand from her skirt, he commands her to open her mouth. Like the obedient whore she is for him, she does without objection. His finger enters Emma's mouth with her own wetness on it and Kent tells her to taste herself. Emma licks his finger clean and gently sucks, wanting more. Kent whispers in her ear, "Remember, this is what I do to you."
And then he is gone. Leaving Emma in the alcove outside the bathroom, quivering and barely able to stand. After a few minutes in the bathroom to compose herself, Emma returns to the dining room. Her eyes immediately on the spot he had so recently occupied. He's not there.
She finishes dinner without tasting it and downs another martini. Always watching for him. Who knows what is said? Every fiber of her being is on edge, waiting. The message comes through on her phone: "How badly do you want me right now?" How badly? At this point Emma would have happily fucked him in that alcove. She types back the simple truth "I am aching for you." His touch ignites her desire like nothing else. Minutes later a new message: "Think of all the sweet and dark things we could do to each other."
Emma was managing a successful mask of calm on the outside, but she had already fucked him in her head three times. Once in the alcove, once in the bathroom and most recently on the table she sat at. Dinner ends followed by traditional goodbyes. But all that Emma is thinking about his him. Where he went to and what will happen next. A new message "Patio, by the firepit."
The excitement of what is to come builds in her stomach. The memories crashing in her head with the possibilities of what new things may be explored tonight. On the patio he is relaxing at a table by the fire pits. A drink waiting for her. Emma smiles as she slips into the empty chair. "You came. I didn't think you were going to", she says.
Kent cocks his head to the side like he does, and smiles. "I wasn't sure that I was going to until I actually started driving here." His hand discretely disappears under the table and rides up her leg. Emma's skin heats under his touch. Slowly his hand makes it to its destination, his thumb rides over her panties and touches her. Moving up and down on her. Teasing her to the point where it is almost unbearable. Emma's body wants his finger under her panties, inside of her. It takes all of her will power not to move to his rhythm. As a last resort she tries to close her legs.
"No," Kent states sternly, "You will not close yourself off to me."
After a few more minutes of torture, he removes his hand, taking hers. With a smile, he places it on his crotch under the table. Emma can feel his cock, hard under his pants. Kent leans into her and whispers, "Rub me." Sitting back, he laughs. Like always, Kent loves to challenge Emma. Push her limits and boundaries. He tests how far she will go and she has yet to disappoint.
As her hands begins to rub his crotch, he reclines back giving her better access. He slowly slips his drink as he watches her face. Her eyes meet his and never waver. Instead she smiles as if sensing a challenge. Emma moves her hands slowly lower to where his balls rest under the material of his pants. Caressing him there, she then moves her hand up his length. Licking her lips as she imagines her tongue tasting him. Emma didn't think she could get any more turned on when he was touching her, but the need and want continued to build.
There are people around them. Beautifully, clueless people who have no idea that she wants him so badly that he could suggest to taking her on this patio and Emma would be powerless to refuse. Refuse? She would beg for it. The need has become palpable. When the intensity between them has exceeded limits for public spaces, Kent grabs her hand and they leave to go to Emma's room. As the elevator doors close, the connection is magnetic. They are hungry for each other. The wait has been long and there is something to be said for buildup and delayed gratification. He runs his hand under Emma's shirt, roughly pinching her breasts as she moans into his mouth. Her knees ready to give out, but he holds her upright. The elevator slows and they break apart.
A brief sense of relief when the doors open and no one is waiting to come on. Until Kent points to the camera in the elevator. Well the security guard got a little show. They laugh like old times. At ease in who they are together.
Walking down the hall, they are acutely aware of each other. The exact distance between them, but without touching. Entering the room, Emma drops her purse and phone on the end table next to the couch. She turns to him, standing just a few feet apart. Watching each other. Kent speaks, a statement of truth and declaration. "You are my property. You belong to me."
Emma answers a simple affirmation, "Yes." Adrenaline courses through her. She begs in her thoughts: don't be gentle. Make me scream. It's not necessary to say this out loud, he knows already.
"You will do whatever I tell you to. I will take what I want, when I want it because you are mine."
"Yes." How can she say anything but yes? Emma would do all manner of depraved, slutty, dirty and shameful things to give him pleasure. She would fulfill his very fantasy. Because Kent was her first and now her master, she would give him what he wants. Long ago she decided that when they were together, she would serve but one purpose, his pleasure. She surrenders herself to him then and would a million more times again if she had her way. "I remember who I belong to. I am yours to use as you please." She wanted him to sexually destroy her. To fuck her in a way that gave her aftershocks days later.
"Come here," is his first command. She walks to him as the need to be touched, to feel his skin against hers courses through her veins. Without warning and without pause, he takes her blouse and rips it open in the front. "You're done with that shirt."
