Five Years Ago - Chad The phone rings and the receptionist answers. âHello? Vincenzo and Partners.â
âHi, itâs Chad Bennett here. I wanted a word with Mr Vincenzo. Is he there?â
âOh, Mr Bennett. Iâm sorry, but Mr Vincenzo is not availableâ¦.â The receptionistâs voice chokes. âThere was a car accident. His brakes failed. He was killed.â
*****
James She kneels, looking down. Naked, her long hair swinging, she is the very image of the perfect sub.
âAt the end of that first week,â she says, âI told you that you would always be my Master. That hasn't changed.â
Despite myself, my lips quirk. âIs that right? There to do my bidding and obey me, no matter what?â
She looks up at me, then away again, spots of pink on her cheekbones. âI⦠disobeyed you. Master.
And Iâm so sorry forâ¦.â
I lift her chin with a finger. âYou're not really a sub. Youâre no Beth. The two of you are not remotely the same. And when it comes down to it, I wouldnât want that. You are what you are: loyal, disobedient when it suits you, brave, rash, intelligent, and quite frankly, half-loco sometimes, but mine.â
She swallows. âIâm never sure if Iâm pleasing you, Master. Or Michael.â
I sigh. âMichael and I are also two very different people. I want control. He wants security. Iâm not sure if youâre capable of giving either of us what he thinks he wants.â
She stiffens. âMaster? What are you saying?â
Her eyes are glossing. âShhhâ¦.â Inside, I curse myself as I think how my words must have sounded to her. I lean forward, cupping her chin then kissing her. âNothing alarming. Just that sometimes what we think we want is not what we learn we really want.â
She relaxes again, and I lean back into my seat, but as I move, pain stabs through me, and involuntarily, I wince.
âMaster are you hurting?â
I bite down on the gnawing in my thigh. âNot too much.â
âTell me how you would like me. How you would be comfortable.â
âLie on the bed, on your stomach. Raise your hips a little.â
She grins. âAm I going to end up with a glowing ass, Master?â
âI suppose thatâs always a possibility.â 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.
Donât screw it upâ¦.
Keeping my injured leg as straight as I can, I slide across her, my cock nuzzling into the crease between her buttocks. Iâm a little high for penetration, but just now, I wantâ¦.
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 moanâ¦.
â¦. and sends the blood rushing to my groinâ¦.
I have missed this, so muchâ¦.
My Jade-Eyes and I, we donât 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.
âMaster?â
âItâs alright.â
âNo, itâs not. Youâre in pain.â
âCharlotteâ¦.â
âDonât Charlotte me. Youâre hurting, even if you donât want to admit it.â
âA little, yes, but I've wanted so much to be able to make love to you again.â
I want to protest, to shift again to take her, but once more the pain stabs at me and my erection subsides.
She slides out from under me. âAnd you think I donât? Lie back. Let me do the work. Make Love with me. Weâll do it together.â
And she triesâ¦.
How she triesâ¦.
But the impulse is gone and after a while, frustrated, I simply gather her in my arms and we lie together in the quiet.
*****
Four Years Ago It stinks of second-hand booze and disinfectant. A couple of drunks are hauled away in handcuffs while a woman in an overall mops up what they just deposited on the tiled floor. In the waiting area, a man in a three-piece-suit flicks through notes and files, checking his watch impatiently. A girl with cheap clothes and a black-eye tries to control the screaming baby she looks barely old enough to call her own.
Thin-faced and with pale flat eyes and nondescript sandy hair, the police officer looks bored and pissed off.
Natalie is bored and pissed off.
âWhen can I go? Iâve got a living to earn you know.â
âDonât we all, Natalie. You know the routine.â The police officer picks up a clipboard, riffling through the pages. âYou can go when weâve settled this, not before.â He finds the sheet he is looking for, pins it open with an elastic band, then sits, pencil poised. âHe says you stole his wallet.â
The girl slumps in her seat, pouting. âDid not.â
âHe says you did. He says you took the wallet, emptied the cash and threw it away.â
âYeah⦠rightâ¦. 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.â
âSo, you picked his pocket?â
Natalie colours up. The officer waits, then with an air of patience wearing thin, says âRight now Natalie, you're facing counts of theft, soliciting andâ¦.â He checks the notepad againâ¦. âResisting arrest. That's a minimum sixty days lock-up.â
Her face is sick and sour. âDinât do nothinâ. Like you'd give me the benefit of the doubt when heâs got a pricy suit and an uptown accent.â
The officer leans back in his chair, tapping his teeth with the end of his pencil. âItâs small stuff, Natalie.
Maybe your john tried to roll you. Maybe not. How helpful are you feeling?â
She tosses her head. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âGood things can happen for those who help the police with their enquiries.â
âWhat do you want?â Her voice is sulky. What choice does she have?
The cop pushes a photo under her nose. âHave you seen this girl?â
âNah, donât know her.â Natalie doesnât even look.
He insists. âSixty days minimum, Natalie. Perhaps you were mistaken. Take another look.â He pushes the photo at her again. âShe'd be new into the City. Only arrived in the last few months. Sheâll not know her way around.â
This time Natalie looks properly, reaching with a finger to trace the outline of a face.
Then, her face a blank, âNope. Still donât know her. Who is she anyway?â
âJennifer Bennett. Or she could be calling herself Conners. A runaway. We think sheâs 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.â
âThat right?â Natalie sniffs, looks at the photo once more then taps a long chipped nail on it. âA girl that looks like that, youâre at the wrong end of town. If you think sheâs working it, you want to try the swanky shops up the West-End. You know, where the heavy-wallet brigade hangs out. Thatâs where sheâd make the real money.â
The cop considers this, tapping his teeth again with the pencil. âThat's a good thought, Natalie. A very good thought.â He plucks the sheet from the clipboard. âI'll talk to your client, have a stiff word with him about paying his bills.â He tears up the sheet, tossing the pieces in the bin. âYou see, good things can happen when you're helpful.â
*****