Darkroom -- Friday
This is a continuing story that starts with Darkroom - Monday.
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Dieter was at the gym at 7:00 a.m. on Friday working out hard. The week had been a hard one. He wasn't a spectator type and it had been frustrating to sit on the sidelines. The weights he was lifting hurt, but he enjoyed the feeling of the strength in his muscles, the competence of his body when faced with the simple physical challenge.
Friday watched him from a stationary bike across the gym. He was truly well built- he had a sense of how to build his body to pleasing proportions. He'd been spending a lot more time in the gym the last few days, and as a result, she had too. The girls were keeping close tabs on the guys, partially to make the game more exciting. It was a huge turn on to pull a random fact out of the hat to surprise them with, but increasingly, Friday just liked to look at him and imagine running her hands all over his perfect body. She wouldn't have to wait much longer. It was time to go.
As she went into the locker room a sprightly barbie of a woman was bouncing out, ready for her workout and dressed for a show.
"See if you can get a rise out of the Adonis," Friday said to her offhandedly as she walked past, "I've been in the same room with him all week and he hasn't seen me."
The blonde's eyes sparkled as she looked at the man across the gym pouring his soul into the iron. She made a beeline for a point twenty feet in front of him, searching for an apparatus that would involve a lot of bending over.
By the time Friday came back out of the locker room, Dieter was gone and the blonde was hitting a punching bag in a far corner. She smiled to herself. It was time for him to go home anyway. She pulled out a cell phone and keyed in a short text message, "Send it" and left the gym.
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The email was already there when Dieter got home. None of the other guys were up yet, so he had the leisure of a first read in private.
Hello boys,
It's Friday, and we wanted you guys to wake up to something nice, so- a big virtual hug from all of us. We all kissed Anthony's Volvo for good luck last night as we left. We hope he doesn't mind.
Tonight Friday is going to appreciate the long-suffering Dieter. She's told us quite a bit about him, but we'll just stick to a few things. He helps teach a course in self-defense at the gym, and he usually ends up impersonating the bad guy. He tolerates a lot of slapping, kicking, and eye poking, not to mention kicks to the groin. We appreciate that. It's a skill that two of us have had to use for our own safety- fortunately we were successful. That's important work and we appreciate that he's helping women stay safe. Dieter also recycles (Germany gets points for this one) and this morning he shut down a blonde tart that was trying to get into his very appealingly clingy workout shorts. Friday is still smiling about it. We find the ability to delay gratification attractive in a man.
Tonight we need to adjust the seating because of a fun little game Friday wants to play. Set up the seats like always, except don't put a chair in the center. We'll explain more when we get there. Friday would be glad to have the use of Gabe's magical rug if he can part with it for another night.
This is the last night of the game as we had originally imagined it (and it has gone better than we imagined!) but we thought we would just add one more round. Something completely different. I have a truly devilish idea, and if it goes according to plan, on Saturday you can look me in the eyes and tell me how much you hate it. Watch your email.
Love, Monday, for Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.
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Dieter made himself a cup of coffee and went outside to the driveway. Anthony's Volvo was sparkling clean, like always, but there were five neat lipstick kiss marks evenly spaced along the top of the driver side window. The last one was the largest and he studied it, hoping to get a sense of who Friday was or what she was like. He shrugged eventually, touched it lightly and went inside.
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Dieter waited in the middle of the rug in the dark, standing barefoot, wearing a light pair of pants and a cotton button down shirt.
The girls came down right on time, chatting and laughing. When they entered the room though they stood near the door instead of fumbling over to their seats.
Monday said, "Okay guys, we need to sit on the ends in the four corners, so you need to sit in the seats in the middle on both sides. Go ahead and find seats."
"Girls, find your guys and sit next to them." There was some small confusion and a few instances of accidental lap-sitting, but eventually each girl was sitting next to the guy she had appreciated.
Dieter stood in the middle of the room, waiting while the others fumbled around when he felt a soft hand touch the center of his chest and linger there. He took a deep breath and whispered, "Friday."
Monday's voice came from the corner of the room, "Okay, I don't think I need to remind you that this is Dieter's appreciation and the rest of us need to keep things more or less... restrained."
"Keep your hands at your sides," Friday whispered to him, her hand still on his chest, feeling him breathe. "I want to touch you, but I don't want you to touch me yet."
She placed both her hands at the sides of his neck and ran them lightly along the tops of his shoulders to his arms. He was relaxed, but she could feel the power in him. She felt his arms. She touched his chest, ran her palms down his stomach.
Dieter felt her walk around behind him, keeping a hand in contact with him as she walked around behind him and explored the contours of his back, her hands mirroring each other.
She slipped her hands down to his buttocks and was pleased to feel the slightest involuntary twitch as she continued down to the backs of his thighs, admiring the sculpture of his legs, his calves, his feet.
Friday faced him and placed the palms of her hands on the fronts of Dieter's thighs. "Flex these," she said, and concentrated on the sensation in her fingers as his muscles slowly acquired sharp definition and relaxed again slowly.
"I chose you to appreciate you because you are one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen," she said softly and confidently, "and because you know the value of patience, and because you will be disappointed graciously."
"Thank you, I think," Dieter loved the sound of her voice. She had a slight accent he couldn't place, and the liquid confidence with which she spoke was promising, mysterious, maybe even dangerous. "I love your voice- say something new. Tell me why I'm going to be disappointed."
"I'm not going to let you fuck me tonight. I'm a virgin and I have decided," her voice smoldered, "that the man who first pushes into me will be looking directly into my eyes when he does it."
There was absolute silence in the room.
"Our arrangement tonight clearly is unsatisfactory for me," she continued coolly, "but I have some skill which I hope will make you feel very, very appreciated. I am also going to allow you to know much more about me than my friends have allowed about themselves."
"You have my complete attention." Dieter said.
"Yes I do. I want you to appreciate me the way I just appreciated you, only don't touch my hair. That's for later."
Dieter remembered her fingers on his shoulders and matched their movements. Friday was wearing what felt like a simple cotton dress that hardly concealed her from his touch at all. It was unbuttoned very low between her breasts. She wore nothing underneath it. Her posture, like her voice was relaxed and confident, and as his hands discovered her breasts and he felt the weight of them, the image that started to form in his mind of her body was startling.
"Tell me what you are thinking," she said as his hands crossed and cupped her breasts and traveled downwards.
"I was thinking I like larger women, or rather, that I don't find skinny women very attractive. There is no movement to a skinny woman." Dieter was behind her, devouring her back with his hands. "I had hoped that you would please me this way."
"And do I please you this way?"
"You are not what I feared, but you are not what I hoped either. You are something else entirely. You are better than I hoped."
"Tell me why I am better than you hoped." Friday flexed her bottom slightly as his hands moved across her, as he had done, a private joke between them.
"You are a fully formed woman on the outside, soft, wonderful to touch, smooth, very warm." His hands trailed down her legs, past the bottom of the dress at her knees and to her feet. He stood in front of her, his hands on her thighs and without his asking she flexed them as he had, slowly, showing them off. He had a brief vision of these thighs flexing powerfully around his waist. He closed the vision off and stored it for later. "But there is steel at your core. You bring your femininity and your strength together perfectly."
"I'm glad you can see that," she said simply, "It is how I see myself also. I have made guesses about you, Dieter, and I think I am right that you value your control as much as you value your power. Perhaps more."
"I'm glad you can see that," Dieter said. This woman's self-assurance was so complete as to be almost innocent. He found it refreshing.
"It is easy for people to ask for a demonstration of power. They ask you to lift this thing or that thing, show how strong you are." Friday was unbuttoning Dieter's shirt. "I want to give you an opportunity to demonstrate your control." She pulled his pants and his boxers off at the same time, hardly touching him at all.
"Unbutton my dress. I am finished with it. You do not need to be as careful as I have been with you."
Dieter found Friday's breasts and lifted them. They completely filled his hands. He brushed her nipples lightly with his knuckles and her breathing changed subtly. She pressed herself into his hands. He grasped the neckline of her dress between her breasts and pulled until one button popped off, then another. The buttons popped off with a measured precision, one per second until the dress hung open. She shrugged and it fell to the floor.
"Lie down on the floor, then ask me a question."
Dieter complied. The alpaca felt fantastic on his skin. "My first language isn't English. I can't place your accent. Is it Italian?"
"No, not Italian. English is my third language, but I have been in the United States for three years and I have visited many times." She spread his left leg out and put what felt like a rubber band around his ankle.
"What is that?"
"A test of control. Don't move your leg. Ask another question."
"Tell me about where you grew up."
Friday pulled out his right leg out and again, he felt another rubber band slip around his ankle. "My father is the richest man in our city. He runs businesses. Some of them are dangerous. Some of them are illegal. I grew up in a big house on many hectares in the city. There were always guards at our house. He is a very influential man." She pulled Dieter's right arm up and slipped a rubber band around his wrist.
