Author's Note:
The following is a work of fiction. All characters are over the age of 18. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is pure coincidence.
Recap:
Alexander has inherited a ring with a stone that is called an "Eye" -- one of 8 (or possibly 12). This ring gives him a power of command over the actions and sensations (but not actual thoughts) of others. Part of this inheritance is a 'probationary period' during which Alexander has been stripped of everything -- his wallet, id, phone, apartment, belongings. He had already lost his job. He needs to make his way in the world for a month, starting from scratch. He has obtained someone else's id and card, and has a date with his crush, a barista named Jenny...
--
Alexander ran his fingertips lightly up Jenny's side, drawing a soft, happy sigh. The dim, quiet light of early morning had begun to lighten the hotel room. The room smelled pleasantly of sex. She moved to press her back and butt more firmly against him. The press of her soft, smooth butt cheeks resulted in Alexander's cock swelling again. He felt a delicious ache in his balls.
He had used Tom's id and credit card to secure the hotel room for a couple of nights. There was some risk in that; he wasn't sure how solid his instructions had been to Tom. If Tom found some way to report the credit card missing while staying within the literal instructions of Alexander's control, things could get complicated. A hotel room was one of the more traceable purchases he could have made. But he decided to trust in his ability to deal with complications, and in any case he needed some time to get on his feet.
He really hadn't expected Jenny to show up for their date. Without his phone, he had no way to confirm or clarify, so he had just gone ahead with his plan, anticipating a nice meal on his own and a quiet evening in the hotel room to contemplate his next moves.
But his heart lifted when he saw her threading her way through the crowded rooftop restaurant. Her smile was the most uncomplicated thing he could possibly imagine.
For an hour or so, Alexander was a normal guy. He was sitting in the shallow sunlight of early evening, golden rays bringing out the splendor of the city skyline. Even the least inspired of buildings took on a magical warmth. The cheerful sounds of a couple dozen conversations surrounded them. Flowers in a vase, water poured into glasses, menus consulted (real paper! No QR code!).
"You must get hit on all the time at the coffee shop," Alexander said. "Why did you agree to meet me?"
Jenny: short black hair, tufty and uneven, yet somehow intentional. She wore layers that were too colorful for goth but not patterned enough for hippie. Was it retro 80s? Or just thoughtfully orchestrated flea market finds. She had caribbean-blue eyes, especially luminous in contrast to her black hair.
"Well," she said. "I don't really get hit on all the time. Uncle Bob's is just neighborhood you know? So, it's mostly regulars. It's more like, I see a lot of wishful thinking, but it's not really about me, is it? It's the bang-the-barista fantasy, right? Or it's just old guys mourning their squandered youth."
"Wow," Alexander replied. "You've given that some thought."
"At a coffee shop, one has time."
"Here's my confession. I've been wanting to ask you out for a long time."
"Well, now you have. You didn't seem too shy about it either."
Alexander wanted to blurt everything out. With Ellie, everything was a scheme, a plan, an opportunity. He wanted to just let it all go. But he held himself back. This was his chance to be ordinary. He didn't want to ruin it.
"To be honest, when you told me you had a boyfriend, I thought my chances were nil."
Jenny explained that they had met as undergraduates at NYU, but he had gone back to the UK, while she had stayed to pursue her masters. They were a good match, but the long distance thing wasn't working well. They hadn't formally broken up, but he was already making sounds about seeing other people. As far as Jenny was concerned, the writing was on the wall.
"We all got pretty good at LDR during the pandemic," she said. "But that's no way to live."
Jenny's degree was in history, although she was still on the fence about whether she was going to go for the full academic life or cut things short and teach high school. They spent a blissful hour talking about early America in the age of enlightenment, and the relationship of American pragmatism to its poetry.
Alexander found himself rethinking his own exit from academia.
When the meal came to an end, the table scattered with empty dishes, their bottle of wine gone, a creme brulee shared, it felt utterly natural for their evening to continue.
"Listen," Alexander said. "They are doing some work in my building, no power or water for a couple days and they are putting us up in a hotel. It's not far from here. Want to join me?"
He was extremely careful not to phrase anything as a command or even a suggestion. He left the question as open-ended as possible.
He loved the way she blushed.
She held his gaze the way they had in the coffee shop the day before.
Finally: "I'd like that."
They both knew what was going to happen.
* * *
But it
almost
didn't happen.
Alexander key-carded the door, and they stepped into the hushed darkness of the room. The lights came up, gracefully undimming themselves.
"Holy shit," Jenny said. "This is swank."
And then she turned to him. "You said your landlord is paying for this?"
The skepticism in her voice was warranted. Alexander's landlord would never have paid a dime for any inconvenience caused by repair work. Of course Alexander couldn't remember any occasion when repair work had involved anything more substantive than duct tape.
He shrugged. "They're not paying for
this
, exactly. They gave me a discount on my rent for next month due to the problems, and I am using that discount... and some savings... for this."
"Are you a trust fund kid then?" she asked. She didn't seem impressed.
"Oh god no. I just happened to get a small inheritance from my great uncle -- my grandfather's brother -- recently, and I'm using that."
Alexander was very proud of this deception.
Jenny seemed to relax a little.
"Probably not what I would have done. I would have crashed with some friends and used the money for something more useful, but it's a cool room."
"With a view," Alexander said, opening the curtains to a sweeping view across the East River. All Manhattan was stretched out, the Empire State Building pulsing through a red, blue, and white sequence. Independence Day was just around the corner, after all.
"Nice!"
And suddenly Alexander felt out of his depth. He didn't want to use the Eye on Jenny. He didn't want to control or coerce. But he had never been in such a position before. Alone? In a hotel room? With a woman he was interested in? But whom he hardly knew? He simply didn't know how to make his next move.
He sat on the bed.
She leaned awkwardly against the desk chair.
They looked at each other. Awkwardly.
"Come sit by me," he said. He didn't mean it as a command. But he felt a tiny stirring somewhere inside. That coiled power.
Jenny came and sat beside him. They looked out the window at the glittering diamond-dust city.
Alexander reached out and held her hand.
Her skin was cool to his touch.
"I just want to tell you, Jenny, I've really enjoyed this evening. I loved sharing dinner with you. I think you're an amazing woman."
She pursed her lips but met his gaze. "But?"
"Oh no! I wasn't leading up to a 'but' -- well, actually I was, I guess. The 'but' is: I don't want to mess up your relationship with this guy in London. This all looks good, maybe too good, but to be honest, I'm a little bit of a mess right now. I actually lost my job the other day. My poetry is, to be brutally honest, completely useless. I am a little lost right now. I feel like maybe you think I was trying to wow you -- roofdeck dinner and fancy hotel -- but I think I'm mostly trying to wow myself."
She softened.
"Let's enjoy the room," she said. She kissed him.
The touch of her lips was soft, sensual, exciting.
Alexander leaned back, holding the kiss, pulling her on top of him. She tightened for a moment, but relaxed into him. He wrapped her up in his embrace and drank at her lips, sipping her tongue. They kissed for a long time, playing and exploring. He felt himself thicken, but he did nothing about it, keeping all his attention on the dance of their mouths together.
He felt her shift, pressing her breasts more firmly to his chest. She wasn't flat chested but she was nothing like Monica or Ellie. Still, he felt that soft connection and it stirred him.
Alexander let Jenny set the pace, following the suggestions of her body, keeping his attention on everything about her action. He noted the way she kissed, the way she moved her lips, the way she explored and flicked with her tongue. He would turn that back on her later.
For now, he let her drive.
They moved to shift more fully onto the bed.
"It's really nice," Jenny said.
"What's that?"
"To be with someone who's not in a rush."
You should have seen me earlier
, he thought wryly.
He pulled her back into their kiss, and they lay together, side by side. He explored the shape of her, caressing the nape of her neck, finding her shoulder blades, holding her close at the small of her back, wrapping his hands around the flare of her hips, pulling her closer, holding her closer. At one point, she offered a sweet and tender moan of desire. Alexander felt himself grow harder. With nothing but this kiss, he thought he had never been more aroused.
Even with her moan, Alexander kept his growing desire in check. He felt that urge, that urge to push her, to tell her what to do, but he said nothing. He just breathed through it, and kept his attention on the sensation of her skin, the scent of her, the sound of their breath, the contact of their bellies.
At her second little moan, and a press of her hips against him, Alexander shifted gears, and pulled away from the kiss.
She looked at him, a dreamy look in her eyes.
"Stand," he said. Again he didn't intend that to be a command of power, and he didn't think any such command was needed, but he felt that shifting inside his belly, that restrained and tightly-wound power.