Five Years Ago - Chad
The phone rings and the receptionist answers. “Hello? Vincenzo and Partners.”
“Hi, it’s Chad Bennett here. I wanted a word with Mr Vincenzo. Is he there?”
“Oh, Mr Bennett. I’m sorry, but Mr Vincenzo is not available….” The receptionist’s voice chokes. “There was a car accident. His brakes failed. He was killed.”
*****
James
She kneels, looking down. Naked, her long hair swinging, she is the very image of the perfect sub.
“At the end of that first week,” she says, “I told you that you would always be my Master. That hasn't changed.”
Despite myself, my lips quirk. “Is that right? There to do my bidding and obey me, no matter what?”
She looks up at me, then away again, spots of pink on her cheekbones. “I… disobeyed you. Master. And I’m so sorry for….”
I lift her chin with a finger. “You're not really a sub. You’re no Beth. The two of you are not remotely the same. And when it comes down to it, I wouldn’t want that. You are what you are: loyal, disobedient when it suits you, brave, rash, intelligent, and quite frankly, half-loco sometimes, but mine.”
She swallows. “I’m never sure if I’m pleasing you, Master. Or Michael.”
I sigh. “Michael and I are also two very different people. I want control. He wants security. I’m not sure if you’re capable of giving either of us what he thinks he wants.”
She stiffens. “Master? What are you saying?”
Her eyes are glossing. “Shhh….” Inside, I curse myself as I think how my words must have sounded to her. I lean forward, cupping her chin then kissing her. “Nothing alarming. Just that sometimes what we think we want is not what we learn we really want.”
She relaxes again, and I lean back into my seat, but as I move, pain stabs through me, and involuntarily, I wince.
“Master are you hurting?”
I bite down on the gnawing in my thigh. “Not too much.”
“Tell me how you would like me. How you would be comfortable.”
“Lie on the bed, on your stomach. Raise your hips a little.”
She grins. “Am I going to end up with a glowing ass, Master?”
“I suppose that’s always a possibility.” I wink at her, but in fact, I simply want to hold my Green-Eyes. To feel her warmth, scent her skin and her hair.
She rises smoothly from her kneeling position then goes through to the bedroom, but at first does not lie down. Instead, she kneels again on the mattress, hands on her knees, watching me as I remove cuff-links, unbutton my shirt, unbelt and, with difficulty, step out of my trousers. Again, I clench my teeth to avoid flinching as the pain, bright and sharp, shimmers through muscle and bone. I think I have fooled her. Her smile remains clear and keen.
And as I am naked, my erection rising against the discomfort, she smiles again, turns and flips over to present me with her lovely rear, creamy-pale and perfect. Her face pressed side-long against the comforter, she watches me, opening her knees as I ease myself into position behind her.
Don’t screw it up….
Keeping my injured leg as straight as I can, I slide across her, my cock nuzzling into the crease between her buttocks. I’m a little high for penetration, but just now, I want….
I nuzzle into her hair, encircling her with my arms to cup her breasts, heavy, warm and soft in my palms. Nibbling at the delicate skin at the nape of her neck and curving to her shoulder, I love the shudder that passes from her to me and her long slow sigh which morphs into a quiet moan….
…. and sends the blood rushing to my groin….
I have missed this, so much….
My Jade-Eyes and I, we don’t need words to express our feelings. We both know and understand what lies between us. But the language of the physical, that is important.
I was always conscious that I am so much older than her, and I allowed for that; planned for what time must bring. But I had never considered the possibility of disablement so early. Of finding myself, only yet in middle-age, unable to make love to my Jade.
Her skin is scented and fragrant. Not exactly sweet, but musky and uniquely her. The perfume pervades her long hair, and as I open my mouth over her, I taste her.
Her body dances for me, her arousal blooming and beautiful. But as I move, the pain spears from thigh to groin and without meaning to, I grunt, my reflexes hijacked.
“Master?”
“It’s alright.”
“Yeah… right…. He said he wanted to party, so we partied. Then he doesn't want to pay. I just wanted what he owed me. I took thirty out and put the wallet back in his pocket.”
“So, you picked his pocket?”
Natalie colours up. The officer waits, then with an air of patience wearing thin, says “Right now Natalie, you're facing counts of theft, soliciting and….” He checks the notepad again…. “Resisting arrest. That's a minimum sixty days lock-up.”
Her face is sick and sour. “Din’t do nothin’. Like you'd give me the benefit of the doubt when he’s got a pricy suit and an uptown accent.”
The officer leans back in his chair, tapping his teeth with the end of his pencil. “It’s small stuff, Natalie. Maybe your john tried to roll you. Maybe not. How helpful are you feeling?”
She tosses her head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Good things can happen for those who help the police with their enquiries.”
“What do you want?” Her voice is sulky. What choice does she have?
The cop pushes a photo under her nose. “Have you seen this girl?”
“Nah, don’t know her.” Natalie doesn’t even look.
He insists. “Sixty days minimum, Natalie. Perhaps you were mistaken. Take another look.” He pushes the photo at her again. “She'd be new into the City. Only arrived in the last few months. She’ll not know her way around.”
This time Natalie looks properly, reaching with a finger to trace the outline of a face.
Then, her face a blank, “Nope. Still don’t know her. Who is she anyway?”
“Jennifer Bennett. Or she could be calling herself Conners. A runaway. We think she’s getting caught up with the grifters and the pushers. Might even be with you girls. We want to pull her in before she gets herself involved in anything serious.”
“That right?” Natalie sniffs, looks at the photo once more then taps a long chipped nail on it. “A girl that looks like that, you’re at the wrong end of town. If you think she’s working it, you want to try the swanky shops up the West-End. You know, where the heavy-wallet brigade hangs out. That’s where she’d make the real money.”
The cop considers this, tapping his teeth again with the pencil. “That's a good thought, Natalie. A very good thought.” He plucks the sheet from the clipboard. “I'll talk to your client, have a stiff word with him about paying his bills.” He tears up the sheet, tossing the pieces in the bin. “You see, good things can happen when you're helpful.”
*****
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