Where It All Began

How had it come to this? She considered herself a strong, independent woman. She had had no choice after her husband left her with two young children, no job, and only a high school diploma. He had been her high school sweetheart, the only man she had ever loved, the man who swore he would take care of her. She had bottled up all her rage, disappointment, and pain and forged ahead without him. She had put herself through school balancing class work, working shifts as a waitress, and being a mom, graduating at the top of her class. She was very grateful to her parents and her in-laws who helped her with babysitting. The later as much out of shame for their dead-beat son's behaviour as out of love for their grand-children. She now had a Master's degree in chemical engineering and was working as a manager in a well respected engineering firm designing waste water management systems to improve agriculture in the third world. Though she was proud of everything she had accomplished alone, she missed the kind of intimacy that family and friends could not give her.

So how had it possibly come to this? She was naked. No, not just naked, she had been stripped. Her clothes lay beside her; nothing more than a pile of tattered rags now. She was on her knees on a cold tiled floor which was made all the more uncomfortable because she was keeping her back as straight as possible with her hands clasped behind her back. Her head was bowed low, her long auburn curls cascading all around her face obscuring her sight to only a few squares of the cruel tile that bit into her knees. She felt humiliated. She felt weak. She felt free. Her heart was racing but it leaped into her throat as soon as she heard His footsteps approaching her.

*****

She thought he was probably too old for her as she scanned her inbox on the dating site. He was cute though, she liked a man with facial hair and a nice smile. Of course most older men only wanted one thing and were certainly not shy about asking for it. She corrected herself, almost every man that had contacted her on this site in the two months she had been on it seemed to only want one thing. She was apparently a MILF and was hot until she said "no", then she became a stuck up bitch. With a heavy sigh, expecting the worst, she opened the message.

*Biochemical engineering, eh? How close are you to cloning dinosaurs... asking for a friend.*

She smiled. At least it wasn't a dick pic and he had read her profile. But still, she felt a slight twinge of displeasure at having her profession mocked. So many men were intimidated by her profession that they tried either to dismiss her accomplishments or to try mansplaining things to her. It was so pathetic. So she fired back a message.

*What are you 7?*

It was probably more aggressive than she wanted to be, and she felt guilty as she looked over his profile more closely. He was educated, athletic, his profile was well written and witty. He was widowed with two children. She started to feel terrible and was about to see if she could delete the message when his answer came back. She opened it wondering what vile name she would be called.

*"All my life through, the new sights of Nature made me rejoice like a child." -Marie Curie*

"Fuck."

Her son looked up form his homework with an excited look on his face. Mom had used a curse word, it was the two dollar one too, he was getting that new video game in no time. She blushed deeply and told him to get back to work. And that's where it all began.

She had suggested a coffee date, he countered with bubble tea because coffee was too cliché and she agreed, she had never had it before and liked being more adventurous in her life, or so she said. It was horrible. Though the tea was okay if a little too sweet, the slimy tapioca balls made her gag as she watched him happily suck down his with an impish grin. She ordered herself a plain green tea as he joyfully finished hers. The grin never left his lips. His eyes were warm and he cocked his head to the side when he looked at her, in the eyes, not at her breasts while she talked. She found it endearing that he listened to her without interrupting. He wasn't trying to gainsay whatever she was trying to say, it was so relaxing.

But then her self-doubt decided to make an unbidden appearance. Maybe he just wasn't interested it whispered in her ear. It was hard to turn your back on two decades of being told you don't matter but she was not going to let her past dictate her future. She felt a little nervous but decided to put her cards on the table.

"You're being awfully quiet. What are you thinking?"

His smile broadened and was that a slight blush to his cheeks?

"You have the most perfect eyebrows I have ever seen."

She blushed, hard, despite herself. She felt it begin in her cheeks and move like a wild fire across her face and down to her chest. That was not what she had expected. She had some issues with her body, as everyone probably did, but he had found one of the things she loved most about herself. She stammered out something to give herself time to recover.

"Are you always this quiet on a first date?"

He laughed, it was rich and full and made her smile as his eyes crinkled, something she just found so sexy in a man.

"I like being quiet. I have always found that if you create a comfortable silence for someone, they will fill it with themselves."

And she had, she realized. She had filled his silence with herself, or at least an enormous part of herself: she had filled it with her guilt. She felt guilty as a mother for abandoning her children to go to work so that they would have a better life than she had. She felt guilty as a manager at her engineering firm since she could not give them the 80 hour weeks other, younger, childless engineers could give. She felt guilty almost all the time. And he had listened. He had absorbed every word. No judgement, no comments until she had finished speaking. She had never experienced anything like it in her personal or professional life. She usually had to fight tooth and nail to be heard and acknowledged. And she felt guilty for that too. She cocked her head to the side and smiled. There was a moment of silence before he laughed again.

"I suppose turn about is fair play."

And so he took his turn to fill her silence with himself. He had been a widower for five years. He had two children of his own, though he had come to parenthood much later than she had. It had been hard. She immediately empathized with the guilt he felt at being a truly single parent. It was refreshing to be able to connect with a man who understood how hard it was to make time for someone around kids when you don't get a week long or even weekend reprieve. He had a Master's degree himself though in the arts, French Literature, something in which she had very little background. He spoke passionately about his kids, his running, and the music he loved. His passion was addictive and she found herself wanting to make a list of songs to listen to when she got home. He spoke fluent French, Italian and even knew a little Sign Language. She could tell he was a born teacher as he joyfully taught her simple words and phrases that made her laugh. He was fun. He was flirty. And time flew. She did not want it to end.

*****

She began to shiver as she heard the sharp click that accompanied His footsteps. He had brought the cane, just like He promised He would if she had been a good girl. The realization that she had been a good girl and would be rewarded for it flooded over her. She felt a sob of joy welling up deep within her chest but suppressed it with every fiber of her being. She was not going to blow it. She needed to be a good girl, she needed to kneel here, unmoving, head bowed. Just as He had told her to.

"Do you think you have been a good girl?"

His voice made her whole being ache with lust. She knew better than to answer. He had demanded her to be unmoving and silent, she was far too experienced now to fall for such a cheap trick. It had not always been so.

*****

It had all begun quite innocently. They had been dating for about three months when it happened. Sex with him had been a series of unbelievable revelations to her. The first of which had been the kissing. Her husband had been the only man she had ever kissed other than chaste cheek kisses with family, friends, and bad Tinder dates. He had been a sloppy, aggressive kisser, his tongue thrusting into her mouth as saliva dripped down her chin. She had always just assumed that was normal. She had always thought the idea of fireworks was some sad Hollywood myth. Then he had kissed her. Their first date was over. He walked her back to her car and they had made awkward small talk. Until he sighed deeply.

"Listen, I would like to kiss you goodnight. Would that be okay?"

She laughed.

"That's a first, I've never been asked before, I usually just try to dodge the lunge."

He smiled.

"Consent is important to me."

There was something in his eyes that caught her off guard. Something that reached deeply into her being and flicked a switch. She stepped closer and they kissed. His full lips pressed firmly into hers as his finger tips gently brushed against her cheek. He finished that first kiss and pulled back to stare into her eyes, his hand still on her cheek. His voice was barely a whisper as he brushed a few loose curls away from her eyes.

"That was a perfect way to end a perfect day with a wonderful woman. Thank you."

Her heart was pounding through her chest and she felt light headed as she looked into his eyes. She had never wanted anything so much in that moment as she wanted him to kiss her again. It left her feeling very small and needy, it was a feeling that both scared and thrilled her.

*****

"You have been such a wonderful student. I am truly impressed by both your open mind and your resolve."

She was close to the end of her strength. She was starting to shake. She could feel the tears start to well up in her eyes. She was going to fail. She was drowning in waves of guilt and self-doubt. She was so much less afraid of any possible punishment than his disappointment. He stopped right in front of her. She could see the tips of His shoes within the halo of her hair. She could also see the tip of the rattan cane between them. She found new strength in the boost of adrenaline that followed seeing the prize she desired. She could hear Him squat down on His haunches in front of her. He slowly reached out His hand and gently lifted her chin. His warm, kind eyes found hers and she felt a surge of heat pulse within her. He smiled as He gently pushed the hair from her face.

"But you still have so much more to learn."

The lightest of pressure under her chin, she knew, meant she could finally rise off the floor. Her knees, back and shoulders ached as she rose to her feet which exploded in pins and needles. His mouth was at her ear, a whisper on His lips.

"And because you have been such a good girl for Me, I will teach you something new."

*****

The kissing only got better from there. His kisses could be fierce and passionate but never became the violating spit soaked mess that her husband's had been. His tongue was soft, exploring, and teasing. He used his teeth to rake her lower lip, to nibble her earlobes; an area she never thought of as particularly sexual but the feeling of his breath on her skin and the sounds of his passion quickly made it her favourite spot to be kissed. At least until his lips found her nipples.

This was the first time she had been to his house. It would also be her first sleepover. His children were with their grandparents for the weekend so he had offered to cook for her. She had never had a man cook for her. She arrived on time at his small cape cod dressed in a light blouse and skirt. She loved the way the skirt hugged her curves. The first thing she noticed was the garden. So many flowers... daisies, black eyed Susans, lilies, and lavender that spilled out onto the walkway. The couldn't help herself but stop and smell, she loved lavender. He met her at the door with a kiss that melted her knees. As she walked in she noticed the living room was littered with toys and books. Some children's books, and some novels, including the latest one she had suggested he read. She could hear sounds of cooking coming from the kitchen and she could smell the wonderful aroma of the food he was preparing for her. Her stomach almost growled; she had been too nervous to eat lunch. He smiled sheepishly as he looked at the mess.

"Welcome to the war zone. Believe it or not I actually spent three hours cleaning today."

She laughed, it was an all too familiar scene in her life. She was glad he had suggested meeting at his house because she was embarrassed at the state of her house.

"And by clean I mean shoved everything in their rooms and closed the doors."

He lead her into the kitchen to get her a glass of wine. The fridge was covered in art and pictures of his children. She smiled. There was something irresistibly sexy about a good father. They clinked glasses and sipped their wine. He had bought a bottle of her favourite wine, she had forgotten she had mentioned that to him. They chatted while he put the finishing touches on their meal. She had never had Chicken Kiev, but he insisted her love of garlic butter would insure she enjoyed it.

"Well, better than bubble tea anyway."

It was running joke in their relationship now. She was taken a little aback at the idea that she was in an actual relationship. Not just dating someone, but in a caring, supportive relationship. She sighed. Hearing her, he turned towards her and winked.

"Coeur qui soupire n'a pas ce qu'il désire."

The French thing had taken her by surprise. With just a few words in that delicious accent he was able to light a fire through her whole body.

"Did you need something, Mon Coeur?"

She ached for him.

"Maybe just another kiss?"

And so the evening went. They ate. He had been right, the chicken was delicious. She probably had a little too much wine and as much laughter as she could bear.

She insisted on helping with the clean up and once everything was done they found themselves on the couch in the basement. There was a movie he had wanted to watch with her but sitting next to one another the DVD lay on the coffee table, forgotten. They kissed. The passion mounted and she could feel herself getting more and more aroused. He had already touched her breasts before in an epic make out session in his car that had left her shaking. So his strong hands sliding up her side to gently cup her breast was not unfamiliar but still as exhilirating. But now she felt bolder. Her skin ached to feel his touch directly. She arched her back and placed her hand on his, guiding it with her shaking hand until it slipped underneath her blouse. Chills raced across her skin as a moan escaped her lips.

*****

She padded quietly behind Him, lead by a single finger as though it were a leash. She had enjoyed the leash and collar He had bought her so much. She had even worn the collar to work one day. He had not insisted, merely suggested it would drive Him crazy if she did. And so she had, shamelessly. Not a single person had made a comment about it. But she no longer needed any physical collar around her neck to know she was His. Of course she had kept it, and wore it every now and again, but the true collar was now around her heart. She was His.

"You will lie down on the bed, face down."

She did as He asked.

"You will clasp your hands behind your back."

Again, there would be no need for ropes anymore either. Her sheer desire to please Him would be enough. Of course just because there was no longer any need for them, there would be occasions when she wanted them, this was not a time for that. He insisted that she be as free as possible should she become scared. Her comfort and consent were always foremost in His mind. This would be new for her. She longed for it but He would not take chances with her, she was too dear to Him. She could feel how much He cherished her in every word, every look, and every touch.

"Remember, no matter what, you are My good girl and I love you."

*****

Her blouse had been gently removed, one button at a time, each inch of newly exposed skin receiving a soft kiss. His eyes never left hers, always looking for the subtle nods she gave him to let him know she wanted more. They had talked about this night for a while, about wanting each other physically. She had been nervous about it, about telling him she wanted him, but now she desperately wanted him. One hand slid behind her and unhooked her bra. She felt like such a child with him, even she couldn't unhook her bra with one hand, and yet she felt so safe and protected with him. He licked and kissed her breasts. Teasing each nipple until it was so hard it ached. He explored gently. Pushing gently to find out where her edges were. A gentle bite and pull on her right nipple made her wince and he immediately stopped, kissing it gently. When his kisses had trailed across her stomach she began to feel a little self-conscious. She had grown up with three brothers who teased her about the dead fish she kept in her panties and her husband had always told her that she smelled bad. Her mother and father's strict religious upbringing had been no help in building her self-esteem either. She instinctively pushed her knees together though she loved his kisses so much and how they felt on the soft skin of her stomach. She was getting so wet as his hands, tongue, lips, and teeth danced across her skin. She felt so embarrassed at how wet she was getting, surely he would complain about the smell soon. And her fears seemed to be confirmed as he abruptly stopped his kisses and moved up to lie beside her. Waves of relief and disappointment washed over her leaving her feeling like she would cry. His voice has halting.

"I'm so sorry, did you not like that?"

She stammered.

"N..No, Not at all, I love your kisses, I.. I just..."

She took a deep breath to steady herself then blurted it out. They had promised there would be no secrets between them.

"I just don't want you to be disgusted by how I smell."

His look was a mix of concern and confusion.

"You know, farting isn't that big of a deal. It's actually kind of funny, really."

Her face went beat red. How could he not understand. Her embarrassment, shame, and disappointment began to turn to anger.

"No, I mean how I smell... down there."

She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes she bit her lip hard to keep them at bay. His look was incredulous at first before realization dawned. His hands immediately cupped her face and he kissed her deeply, passionately. He pulled away, a look of grave concern in his eyes.

"Oh, holy shit. I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. How can I put this."

He paused trying to find the words as she tried to understand his confusion.

"I like the way you smell, down there."

Her jaw actually dropped and she felt foolish when it happened.

"For the record I was able to smell you from when I was licking your nipples."

She blushed hard.

"It's been driving me crazy. It's all I could do to keep myself from burying my face in your pussy."

Her heart was pounding. She couldn't really understand what he meant.

"I know you're just trying to be nice..."

He kissed her. Her mind was racing. She was so embarrassed, she felt guilty for ruining his night with her body. She wanted to get up and leave, but she was naked, it would be so awkward, especially for him. She wanted to leave and yet that kiss held her in place like a pinned butterfly. Eventually his lips left hers and she could feel the panic starting again.

"I'm going to eat your pussy."