Choosing Her Lover

“Why would anyone want to hurt Charlotte? She’s such a nice person, at least when people aren’t having a go at her.”

He smiles at that. “Ben wanted to hurt her, didn’t he, for reasons of his own? People can have odd motives, and Charlotte has enemies.”

“The kind of enemies that attack buildings and set them on fire? Are you going to tell me who they are?”

“Right now, no. Let’s see how this works out.” He rubs his temple, looking thoughtful again. “Kirstie, that boyfriend of yours; your Dom, Ryan, is it?”

“What about him?”

“Are you in the habit of telling him everything?”

I shuffle uncomfortably in my chair. “We hardly know each other.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.” He sits back in his seat, arms folded, his expression calculating. “You hardly know each other? It’s pretty apparent that you’re in love with him….”

Heat rises up my chest and neck. “Why would you say that?”

His voice pitying, “Michael was right. No woman smiles at a random stranger the way you did to Ryan the other night. So, I repeat my question. Do you tell him everything?”

“He’s never asked it of me. We met on a very casual basis and.…”

“Okay, I’m not asking for all the details of your private life. It’s none of my business. Let me put it another way. You haven’t known him long, but you trust him enough that he is your Dom? You’re wearing his collar. You have given him your Submission? Yes?” His voice is gentle, but his gaze penetrating.

I colour up even further, nodding silently.

He continues, “Suppose we’re six months down the line and you’re deeply involved with him. If he asked you, would you tell him everything?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, what kind of secrets are you asking me to keep?”

“I don’t know yet, Kirstie. I do need to know how much trust I can put in you, and therefore, in Ryan…. By the way, about Ryan, has he given you the company information he was going to send to me?”

“Yes, he has. I’ve already e-mailed it to you.”

He walks over to his desk, flipping up the lid of his laptop. He taps a few keys, scrolls then looks more closely, scrolling for a minute or two, then raising his eyebrows. “Looks good,” he comments. He chews his lip…. “Kirstie, I’d like you to contact Ryan and ask him if he would be free for lunch tomorrow. I would like to discuss, among other things, cooling systems.”

“I’ll do that, Sir.”

As I stand and turn for the door, “Ah… one more thing, Kirstie. When you come into work tomorrow, please make sure you are smartly dressed.”

I look down at my clothes. “You think I don’t dress smartly?”

“I think you do,” he says, “but tomorrow specifically, um…. let’s say that I’m asking you to be sure not to arrive in yesterday’s blouse if you take my meaning.”

I blush.

Again….

Oh…. God……

Snatching at my composure, “Is there something special happening tomorrow?”

and Richard Haswell for lunch. Possibly also

?!?

Have you met the Haswells

are they

image of Charlotte. He’s Tall, Dark and Dominant.” He winks at me. “You’ll like

*****

My phone vibes.

u like 2 go 2 the theatre

wud luv 2

u up 7 pm from urs. theatre

c u

I

plan what

*****

the dot of six. Back at my apartment, a soak in a hot bath with lots of scent and bubbles, and

or sexy and easy

Mmmm….

dresses

haunt

Demure then.

low enough to show my knees and not much more. A tidy little cardigan and a string of pearls,

yell, making

me. “Beautiful,” he

I alright for

Why would you

“I’m not used to going

wonderful.” he says. “You’ll

*****

is warm and I quickly take off my cardigan, laying it across my lap. In the low light of the auditorium, very little can be seen against the dazzle of the stage lights and I settle to enjoy the

down, then up

“Open up.” he murmurs.

of faces is aimed

do as you’re told?” he says, not looking at me

“Here?”

“Yes, here. Open up.”

my thighs apart, despite my nerves, my pussy glows, growing loose and moist. His hand covered by my cardigan, Ryan’s fingers glide up

still looking straight ahead, “Yes, gratifyingly wet there. Good girl. That’s how I want

to keep my gasping silent, juddering as I struggle for self-control; in

but distinct. “I’d finger-fuck you, but I think the movement would show, so for now, I’ll settle

“Ryan….”

the rest

want to wriggle, to escape/embrace this

myself with you if

rub at my bud, ratcheting up my arousal, while uncontrollably, the tension of imminent

Oh, God……

loud. Staring down at

says, “and I will, whenever it suits me. I enjoy arousing you. But you’re not coming right now. We have a performance to watch. I’ll