Stoned Submission

Chapter 7: Absence...

*****

Absence, in Annika's opinion, did

not

make the heart grow fonder. It simply made a woman hornier. Itchy. Two nights of phone sex with no release -- she sincerely hoped Grady's balls were as blue as hers -- was driving her insane.

She pondered his motivation for this erotic torture as she drove the dark, empty pre-dawn streets out of St Kilda. And his motivation made her cunt clench.

Lucille.

She had been the focus of discussion the last two nights, with Grady describing in detail how he imagined Lucille fingering a wet and needy Nika, while Annika mimicked his words with her own hands. He had planted images in her mind of Lucille taking her in the hot tub, taking Annika into the dark depths of her consciousness to further explore her submissive side.

And just as her toes were curling in approaching orgasm, Grady would demand she stop.

On a frustrated sigh, Annika told herself it was time to bite the bullet. Grady had steered her to where they both knew she wanted to be. But it was up to her to take the final step. Pulling up at Santospirito's Flower Market, Annika turned Lucille's business card over in her hand, tapped it against the steering wheel. And gave herself a deadline.

You've got until midday, Annika. Fucking do it already

.

Having given a salesclerk her online order reference number, Annika wandered the aisles of the warehouse, adding items to her box tray. She came across a night-blooming Easter lily cacti, pictured it opening under the stars on Lucille's balcony. With a smile, Annika loaded it up, knowing she'd gift it to her neighbour to seal their business deal.

She pulled out her phone to text Grady.

A:

Gonna get in touch with Lucille today. Take her up on her offer. Here's hoping I'll be unwinding with a glass of red in her Jacuzzi tonight. Have a good day xxo

With her stock now replenished, Annika loaded up the car and eased back into traffic that was slowly waking up to the workday. She parked behind her shop, unlocked her greenhouse and switched out her white canvas shoes for sturdy work boots.

Having loaded her rolling cart with stock, she moved back to the greenhouse, unloaded items that would remain there and not in the shop. She stuck her thumb in potted soil, checking for moisture, found it to her liking, before taking the cart and moving into her shop.

Switching the radio to her favourite contemporary jazz station, Annika tied an apron around her hips, flicked on a trio of overhead lamps and at her bench, mixed half a dozen jugs of flower food and water, stirred them with her hand.

Retrieving her box tray of flowers from the boot of her car, Annika commenced stripping stems, cutting them under cool running water and began arranging zinnia, Peruvian lily, hyacinth, whispers of baby's breath, and peonies. Colours burnt and bold, Annika would arrange them at various lengths to bid adieu to summer.

The morning sun rose higher, flooding the room with natural light. Annika switched off the lamps, paused to stand tall in

tadasana

, bent forward in

uttanasana

to touch her toes, before rising again and rolling her shoulders.

A quick glance to the clock saw that Tink would be arriving soon, and Annika found herself looking forward to the inane chatter with which Tink would fill the room. Upon feeling a buzz in her back pocket, Annika wiped her hands on her apron, pulled it out.

G:

Good girl.

Annika was almost embarrassed at Nika's throbbing response to those two words.

Phone still in hand, Annika reached into her back pocket again for Lucille's business card.

Lucille Johnson

Managing Director

Vibe Hotel + Restaurant

She flicked the edges with her fingertips and took a deep breath for courage. Annika keyed Lucille's number into her phone, counted the dings in her ear. Was sent to voicemail.

Lucille's whiskey smooth voice wafted into Annika's ear, down her spine, making her tingle from head to toe.

"... leave your name and number, and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

The phone beeped. Shit.

Annika cleared her throat. "Lucille. Hi. It's Annika O'Neal. Bud and Blossom? I've thought about your offer over the weekend. And the last couple of nights, actually..." She cleared her throat again, felt heat boil from the neck up. "Would love to talk it over with you. Are you free tonight? Give me a call when you can. Thanks."

There. Done. The ball was now in her court.

* * *

Across town in the hotel's boardroom, Lucille's phone buzzed with the number of an unknown caller. With a quick, apologetic smile to the board members, she flicked it straight to voicemail, pushed her hornrims up the bridge of her nose, refocused her attention.

This meeting was scheduled to last another goddamn hour.

She could admit to herself she'd been scattered lately. Since last weekend, really. She'd made a point to not be seen around her apartment complex the last few days. Easy enough to achieve with a plethora of women willing to share their bed for a night.

But really, she'd wanted to give her herbaceous neighbour space to think. To wonder. And Lucille knew that her absence would be far more noticeable than her presence.

At the meeting's conclusion, Lucille moved briskly back to her office, her black pants suit offset by cherry red Doc Martins. She checked her phone, frowned at the unfamiliar number, checked her voicemail.

And stood a little taller as the delectable Annika O'Neal's voice sent a shot of electricity from her inner eardrum directly to her core. She sucked in a breath to counterbalance the response.

"...the last couple of nights, actually... Give me a call when you're free..."

Lucille looked over her electronic day planner, saw a message from her assistant that her 11 o'clock was early. With the slightest frown, Lucille settled for second choice and texted Annika.

L:

Annika. Lucille. Sorry I can't call to talk in person. Tonight is great. Come by after work and we can talk things over. My assistant will be in touch to arrange a more formal meeting during the week. X

Lucille placed her mobile in her top draw -- out of sight, out of mind, an excellent strategy -- and reached for her desk phone.

She sighed, slumping back in her seat, closed her eyes, and admitted to herself that Annika was far from 'out of mind'. Ever since she had spied her neighbour last week on the balcony -- legs splayed wide, her boyfriend ravishing her to completion -- she'd been very much front and centre of Lucille's mind. She had been transfixed by Annika's greedy consumption of pleasure, and generous release of it.

It had called to the domme in her. Like a whisper along the skin, a secret not even Annika was aware she shared. But Lucille had seen it. And Lucille wanted to exploit it.

That fateful night in the hot tub, Lucille had held her pussy to a streaming jet, angled just right, and imagined the delectable Annika between her legs, had seen in her mind's eye her straight neighbour blush scarlet in anticipation of her first taste of pussy. Relished the thought of grabbing Annika's by the hair and rubbing her face all over her pussy until she learned to love it.

Lucille crossed her legs to appease the ache in her cunt, groaned and thanked whatever gods may be that her neighbour finally took the bait. She would be so fun to corrupt. Straight girls always were. Lucille felt her nipples tighten, eager to use the Jacuzzi that evening. Of seeing Annika lower her body into the water (and hopefully high as she'd seen the benefits of Annika's inebriation), her muscles loosening, becoming more susceptible to seduction.

Lucille ran her tongue over her lips and top teeth, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

The buzzing on her desk jolted her from her late-morning fantasy. She cursed under her breath, answered the page from her assistant.

"What is, Emmaline?" She heard the snap in her voice, took a breath to school it.

"Umm..."

"Sorry. Just received some... news. Didn't mean to take it out on you. Is my 11 o'clock ready?"

"Yes, Mr Stephens. Should I send him in?"

"Thank you. And take a break. Grab yourself a coffee."

"Thanks, Lucille."

A brief look at her watch told Lucille the day was young yet. But she couldn't wait to get home.

* * *

For Annika, the day dragged on, with Nika being on a slow burn since receiving Lucille's text message. Curt, to the point. In charge. But ending with a kiss. What did it say about Annika -- who owned her own business, managed a staff (albeit of three, including herself, but still), who, by all fronts, excelled when

professionally

in charge -- that she much preferred to relinquish that control to another, sexually?

Perhaps it really was as simple as that. She was in control of every other aspect of her life. Something had to balance it out. And it was nothing but pure pleasure to willingly, eagerly, give it away.

She yawned as she pulled up at her apartment complex, noted Lucille's bay empty of a bike. Annika sighed, let her head fall back on the headrest, and counted the hours she'd been on her feet.

Almost fourteen.

She gathered her belongings from the backseat -- including Lucille's gift -- and trudged upstairs. Juggled items into one arm as her phone buzzed in her back pocket. She brightened a little to see Grady's name and face light up her screen.

"Hey," she said, cocking the phone between her ear and shoulder as she unlocked the door.

"Hey. You sound tired."

"I am. Market day." She dumped her gear -- jacket, bag -- and moved outside to place Lucille's gift on the small wood-top table. She sat in the hammock swing, looked out to watch the sun sparkle over the water to the west.

"Poor baby," he said, and Annika could all but see his lower lip poke out in a pout.

"How was your day, Gray baby?"

"Good. Great clinic. The AFL bosses were so impressed with what I'm doing with junior development there in Melbourne that they're bringing in all of Sydney's junior development coaches. On Thursday."

Now it was Annika's turn to pout.

"Boo. For purely selfish reasons. I miss you."

She heard his smile through the phone. "I miss you, too. But I'll be home Thursday night."

Annika smirked. "Can you last that long?"

His laugh rippled through the phone and eased some of the tension Annika hadn't realised she'd been holding. "Can you?"

"Well..." Annika bit her lip.

"You're biting your lip, Nika. I can tell." Grady's voice lowered, grew huskier. Lustful.

She purposely released it. "I'm going over to Lucille's later. She's not home yet. But we're going to..."

Grady hummed, a sound of pure pleasure. "I think I know what you're going to. Fuck, I wish I was there for you to come home to."

"Me, too. Fuck, me, too."

They sat in comfortable silence, each replaying their favourite parts of Lucille-inspired fantasies.

"Call me after?" he asked.

"You know it. Love you, Gray baby. Get some rest."

"Love you, too. Heaps big. Have fun."

With shadows stretching in the sun's dark orange descent, Annika moved back inside and changed into comfortable yoga attire. She decided to hang in the ropes for ten, fifteen minutes, to lift her mood and re-energise herself.

She didn't -- couldn't -- think when upside down. Having the ropes mounted in her home was the best decision she'd ever made. Each morning she woke herself up like this. And after long, busy days on her feet, she ended it like this.

Turning herself upright, Annika then bowed to do a downward dog with a single rope around her hips. She sighed in pleasure feeling the length returning to her back and deepened the pose, resting her head on the floor.

She concluded her basic restorative three-pose practice with a shoulder stand. But the sound of a motorbike in the distance stole her attention and her balance wavered.

Counting ten more breaths, Annika released the pose, and gave thanks for the long tradition of yoga.

Namaste

.

But there was an itch at the back of her neck that not even being upside down could settle.

Annika went to the kitchen and grabbed her stash before moving outside to roll herself a joint.

Just one,

she told herself.

To relax

. The ting of the lighter and hiss of flame to paper made Annika smile. She sucked in the thick air, tipping her head back upon a long and satisfying exhalation.

She took a second, longer drag, held it in her lungs as she felt the thud of her heart grow thicker. And let it out again as the neighbouring balcony door slid open.

Annika's entire pelvis tingled at the sight of her neighbour. She'd stripped herself free of her blazer and was wearing a dark red singlet tucked into the high waistband of her pants. Lucille's dark blonde hair was spiked in short tuffs, as though she'd fisted her hands in it in frustration. Annika idly wondered how a woman like Lucille -- who rode a motorbike, who had a Jacuzzi for fuck's sake -- could ever be frustrated.

Taking a third greedy drag on the splif, Annika took in her neighbour's body, the long, smooth line of it. Barely a flare of hip, hardly a curve of breast. But one of the most alluring women Annika had ever seen.

Lucille sniffed the air, caught the smell of Annika's presence, and turned her head.

"Hi," Annika said, her voice quietly filling the space between them.

Lucille wandered over to the railing facing Annika's balcony, crossed her forearms and leaned over.

"Hi yourself," she smiled and Annika gave in to a fit of giggles.

"Yes, indeed. Long day, Lucille. Yours, too?"

"Yes, indeed." Lucille's witch-green eyes wandered over Annika's body. From her bright orange toenails, her shapely legs, disappointingly covered in navy, high-waisted Lululemon tights, over her smooth torso that was exposed as she was wearing only a mustard yellow training bra.

Lucille licked her lips as her gaze lingered on Annika's generous bosom. She could make out the indent of the pierced nipple and felt the pressure build in her own.

She brought her eyes to Annika's face as the young woman lifted the cigarette to her lips, inhaled deeply, and exhaled, eyes bright. Direct.

Lucille pushed away from the railing. "You still coming over to talk... business?"

"I sure am. Just gonna finish this and freshen up. Gimme ten." She felt Nika clench as she watched Lucille turn the jets on in the Jacuzzi. As steam start to rise from it. She took her final drag of the joint, head warm and fluffy, body heavy, and stubbed out the butt.

"Excellent. In ten this will be warmed through. I've got the red."

"And I've got the plant."

Lucille tilted her head. "You mean weed?"

Annika laughed. "No. The plant." She grabbed it from the table. "See you soon."

Inside, Annika shook out her hair, tying it back in a loose bun, splashed cold water on her face, wished fleetingly to cover her dark circles with concealer. But alas, Lucille had already seen her. She brushed her teeth -- got lost in the task, curse of the stoner's attention span -- and sprayed perfume to her throat, breasts, belly. She threw an oversized white singlet on over her bra and deemed herself presentable enough.

With the prettily boxed lily cacti resting against her hip, Annika knocked on Lucille's door.

"It's open!" came the reply.

Annika entered a spacious studio apartment, not at all dissimilar from her own. But where Annika's apartment was bright, cluttered, boho chic, Lucille's was Scandinavian in style; white on white on grey on timber.

She wandered through to the living room, admiring Lucille's eclectic collection of art, idly wondered where she could get the same zebra print throw pillow. And offered Lucille a nervous, somewhat shy smile as she entered the kitchen.

"Hi, gorgeous," Lucille said, pouring a second glass of red, pushed it across the counter to Annika. Lucille's nostrils flared as her neighbour's spicy scent wafted over and her eyes hungrily took Annika in, thinking the baggy white singlet she'd thrown on only made her more alluring. Swallowing her wine, Lucille licked her bottom lip, appreciating the flush pinking Annika's cheeks, the milk chocolate curls escaping to flutter at her jaw line.

Annika exchanged pot plant for wine, her smile a little more confident. "Hi. Again."

"What's that?" she asked, bringing her glass to her lips.

Annika looked at the plant, swirled her wine. "That? It's an Easter lily cacti. My way of saying thanks for throwing considerable business my way."

Lucille fingered the soft petals, couldn't help but wonder at the texture and taste of Annika's pink, fleshy petals, tilted her head.

"It's night-blooming," Annika blurted, needing to break the tension she could feel rising.

"Really? That's... not common?" Another sip, eyes trained on the younger woman.

"No. But it seemed like a good fit for you."

"Mhmm..."

Annika felt the pulse rising from her core to beat erratically at her throat. Heat flooded her face; she didn't know where to look. Her high brain was floating a foot above her head, taking everything in, but unable to respond or react.

"I figured you'd enjoy it when using your Jacuzzi on summer nights. Or for what's left of summer," Annika said, immediately chastising herself for the inane comment.

Lucille made a humming noise in the back of her throat. "A Jacuzzi can be used year-round, gorgeous." She was pleased to see the flush pink Annika's cheeks again, smiled into her wine.

"Come on," she said, taking the plant. "It should be warm by now."

Wandering out to Lucille's balcony, Annika sighed in envy. "Your view of the water is so much better than mine." She walked over to the far side of the outdoor space, leaned against the railing. Inhaled deeply, the salty air clearing some of the cobwebs in her head.

Lucille moved to stand behind Annika, inhaled the intoxicating smell of spice, weed and woman. She noticed her neighbour's relaxed stance stiffen as their bodies brushed.

"I think I won the lottery with my view. From both sides." Lucille rubbed her hands up Annika's arms, to her shoulders and neck, down again. Annika turned, heart racing, met Lucille's direct gaze. Held it one beat, two, before lowering her lashes and biting her lip.

"You are just delicious," Lucille whispered, her voice low as she lifted Annika's chin. She leaned in and planted a soft kiss on Annika's lips. A kiss that was over before it begun. Annika pressed her lips together to contain the tingle, her body tense.

"Come on," Lucille said, taking Annika by the hand and walking to the steaming Jacuzzi. "The bubbles and warmth will relax you. I just want you relaxed, Annika."

Lucille stripped down to a tight back training bra -- one that accentuated the supple muscles of her shoulders and back -- and a tiny black thong, one cut high at the thigh. She sighed as she lowered her body to into the water.

"Come on," Lucille said again, resting with arms stretched out wide along the lip of the tub, facing the sunset.

Annika was cemented to the spot, the heat in her body rising, seeking an outlet. It pulsed in her pussy, her belly and chest, her throat. Her head. Pushing, pushing, pushing, for release. She fleetingly wished Lucille would avert her gaze, allow her some modesty, but knew from the direct green eyes that Lucille would watch her every move.

Wishing she had stuffed a joint in her bra and not her purse, Annika stripped away the white singlet and peeled the tights down her legs, nostrils flaring as Nika's scent was released from her confinements. Annika blushed as she stood there in her training bra and navy-blue cotton panties. Hardly alluring when compared to Lucille.