There was a word to describe what he was doing to her, and it was not a pleasant word. She was complicit and that made it endlessly complicated and perfectly simple at the same time. She never said 'no'; she never said 'yes'. She wanted him to talk to her, to tell her that it was okay. They were in this together. They pretended to be anonymous, but really they weren't. The two of them were partners in crime, and it was strangely soothing: He could be incredibly tender in the way he brushed her hair from her forehead and then incredibly overt in the way he parted her lips.
You found me, some part of her wanted to say. I want you to keep me just like this, or any other way... After all of the subterfuge and secrecy, at last she knew who he was – maybe. And that made it wonderful – maybe.
He gently placed his hand right there. He felt the heat through the fabric of her panties. He moved the flimsy material aside. His fingers played for a moment with her delicate parts before pushing inside. To her embarrassment, he slipped in effortlessly. She responded: there was a distinct "mmmm," that somehow escaped her lips. He pushed her underwear – the last item of clothing on her body - down her legs, around her ankles, and off her feet, where they briefly caught on her high heels. Aside from those shoes, she was now completely bare.
That was what gave the game away. Her soaking panties, the way his fingers slipped in perfectly, the unconscious sigh of pleasure that she gave as he touched her there; it was obvious. Her body was telling him everything. She wanted it. She loved it.
Despite her best efforts to hide from him, she was overcome by all of it. There was no denying the situation now. The mysterious note; the hotel room; the blindfold; the ties around her wrists; the forced stripping; the high heels he put on her feet; the way he bent her body to his wishes; the admonishments to not talk and just let it happen.
What he did with her simply sent her over the edge. She was mortified by the ease of it; confused by the immediacy of it. Yesterday, she was Jane-average, with only a few moments in her past to suggest the sex-kitten that today was soaking wet and waiting on the bed of a hotel room. The most shocking sex story she could tell happened more than five years ago and only hinted at the lion that lived in her closet.
Suddenly, her cravings were out in the open and it didn't take months or weeks for them to be revealed. There were no long evenings spent talking with some man filling the role of Mr. Wonderful. There were no tentative sleepovers as they approached a truly wild night, no dinners by candlelight, no phone conversations until the early hours of the morning, no looking into his eyes and he into hers. It wasn't romantic; in fact it was verging on lonely.
The seduction she craved was nowhere to be found. It happened off-stage when he wrote that note, and later when she read it and made up her mind to do something crazy and a little stupid. He caught her just right, in a pointless gesture to a world that didn't care one way or the other what she did or said - the rest came easy. If only he would let his guard down as well... then maybe this twisted and conflicted feeling could turn into something else.
She was completely exposed; she looked for a sign that he would reveal himself as well. Her body was naked. Her hands bound behind her back. A blindfold over her eyes meant he could look at her all he wanted without having to meet an accusing stare. The high heels were kinky sex-shoes that turned her legs into erotic objects and her whole person into a lusty goddess. Maybe he would speak, show his face – anything. His gamble – and it was huge one – had paid off. Her body confessed her urges. How could he know that she would fall this easily?
For the last hour or more, she had fought with herself. As he lay down beside her, completely spent, she felt his naked body pressed against hers. His breath tickled the back of her neck, his scent made her woozy with anticipation, and his heavy muscled arm draped over her middle. Her mind told her to push away and make it clear that it was wrong – so wrong – what he was doing to her, but then another voice spoke to her, and she lay transfixed in an awkward pose. Neither able to give in to him nor reject him, she lay there with him wanting an answer, and feeling like a fool for not going one way or the other.
