Читать книгу The Ultimate Erotica Collection: 3 Books in 1 - Destined to Play, The Silver Chain, Run to You - Charlotte Stein, Primula Bond - Страница 17

‘Now, let’s get you dressed. We have a big day ahead of us.’

‘A big day? Aren’t we just going to hang around here all day and play?’ I don’t envisage getting out of my bathrobe for quite a few hours so I don’t take him the least bit seriously.

‘Another question,’ he responds flatly.

Not the question thing again, I think to myself. His tone makes me apprehensive. I don’t understand what it is about. What is he expecting? A mute? Of course I have questions, what woman on the face of the earth wouldn’t, even under normal circumstances, let alone in this situation? I wish he could just relax and chill a little more about the whole question thing.

Rather than saying any of these thoughts out loud however, inwardly congratulating myself from the lesson of last night, or whenever it was, I attempt a different tack.

‘So, what will I be wearing then?’ I ask chirpily, stupidly.

‘You really can’t stop yourself, can you?’

‘What?’

‘Asking questions!’ He sounds completely exasperated.

‘I didn’t!’ I say indignantly. ‘Oh, I did,’ as I remember my last words. ‘Slow learner, I guess?’ I try to make light of my error. I reach out to find him for a quick all-is-forgiven hug, but the space around me is decidedly empty.

‘You will learn, Alex,’ I hear from somewhere else in the room. ‘I’m just not sure that you will appreciate the lesson.’

‘What does that —?’ I hear the words leave my mouth before I can prevent them and immediately stop myself short. I don’t understand his cryptic comment but I am surely not going to be led into yet another question, just in case.

‘Alright then, let’s get dressed,’ I say as lightly and easily as possible.

‘Much better,’ he replies smoothly and kisses me on the lips. Happy again. All good.

Although … I can’t help but think that I’m being trained for something, like a good puppy.

‘The girls should be here any moment to help get you dressed.’

Even after these unexpected words, a knock on the door startles me more.

‘Girls. What girls?’ I say in a freakishly high voice. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ I say automatically before he does the ‘another question’ routine. I’m on edge all over again.

‘Just relax, I’ll get it.’ I’m really left with no choice. I hear female voices introduce themselves at the door to Jeremy, something like Cindy … Candy … He can’t be serious.

‘Hi, pleased you could make it. Come on in, she’s in here.’ My mind starts to spin as I urgently feel for the edge of the bed and accidentally roll off the corner, leaving me splattered on the floor. Jeremy comes rushing over asking if I’m okay. I feel like a complete idiot. I’m so embarrassed, I want to curl up in a small ball and disappear through the floor. How could he? My heart is beating so fast, I don’t know what to think, do or say. He always had this fantasy about two girls … He wouldn’t, he couldn’t! He helps me to my feet.

‘Are you sure you’re alright? You look pale.’ I feel green, so I can only imagine how ‘pale’ I look. Words elude me.

‘The girls are here to help you dress for our big adventure,’ he exclaims, true blue excitement in his voice.

‘I don’t want or need any more adventures, Jeremy. I have now had enough for a lifetime,’ I say in a harsh whisper, as I don’t know how near or far ‘the girls’ are from where I am. He raises me to my feet and leads me to the bathroom. Oh god, is he insane?

‘Don’t worry, it’s not what you think. They are here to help, I promise.’ He extracts his arms from my grip and hands me over to them. I start to tremble. One of my hands is placed in each of theirs. I try to keep hold of him but his touch is withdrawn.

‘No, please don’t leave me. I don’t need their help. I’ll be fine on my own. Jeremy?’ I hear the door close and I am left alone in a panicked state with two female strangers and their call girl names, who are faceless to me, though I am not to them. I feel long fingernails on the hands gently removing my robe. I instinctively hold onto it, tightening its grip around my waist. The fingernails try again as other hands undo the waist tie simultaneously. I attempt to distract the touching fingernails by talking to them.

‘I’m honestly fine, I can handle this. It’s okay, really.’ They continue on their quest. I am surprised when they remove my blindfold. I am now fully naked. I am placed on the toilet. I cover myself with my arms. The shower is turned on and I am led into it. The water sizzles against my goosebumped skin. My hair is washed, conditioned and massaged so delicately and carefully that I find myself relaxing into it more than I imagined possible. The fingernails become allies as they smoothly lather me up beneath their expert touch. When four hands are skilfully conducting their business over your body, do you prevent them or willingly allow them to complete their mission? I accede to the latter.

The products they are using smell divine and feel rich and luxurious against my skin, leaving me feeling velvety soft as I’m thoughtfully rinsed clean with the steaming water cascading down from above. No words are spoken as I am exited from the shower and thick plush towels dry every inch of my body. Smooth, silky, moisturised hands glide along my legs, arms and torso. They lift one foot at a time and massage between each and every toe sending reverberations to other less obvious parts of my body. Wow, I had no idea toes could have that effect. When their task is complete I am carefully re-robed and I breathe a sigh of relief that they went no further. I feel so soft, so ripe, so replenished and I smell like I’ve been ensconced in an exotic genie-bottle of Coco Mademoiselle. I would hug myself, if I were alone. My hair is blow dried, then tightly bound into a low French braid. I attempt to open my eyes but my lids are still so heavy it hurts to try, so my grey darkness continues, with or without a blindfold, into the next unknown.

I hear a rustling sound as I am ushered out of the bathroom, into the walk-in robe. I am then zipped and buckled into a leather all-in-one suit with thick knee-high boots, and gloves that just so happen to fit perfectly. Surprise, surprise! Every part of my body is clad in the aroma and feel of leather. Large sunglasses complete the look as I lose all sense of light when they are wrapped around my eyes. Good old Jeremy hasn’t left anything to chance.

In some respects, I am thankful I can’t see how ridiculous I look. I have no idea what I’m dressed for, except that Jeremy must have some full-on leather fantasy that I was completely unaware of. I jingle as I move because of the number of zips and studs strapping the outfit securely to the contours of my body. I envisage I look quite punk-like, imagining the leather is black but I have no idea. I would roast him if it were any other colour, come to think of it; imagine if it were some hideous hot pink! Although I feel hefty and resilient from the neck down, I am completely vulnerable from the chin up. I have no idea what I am doing in this heavyweight outfit and certainly hadn’t considered the prospect of leaving the hotel. But I guess, since I’ve been having such an extended run of incorrect assumptions, I should have expected as much.

‘Wow, you look fierce, Alexa, like a tough biker chick. If I didn’t know you I’d be scared shitless.’

‘And if I didn’t know you, Jeremy, I wouldn’t be dressed like this in the first place,’ I say, with my hands firmly planted on my hips.

‘Fair call,’ he says with a laugh. ‘Fair call.’

Inwardly, I love the idea of looking ‘fierce’ and am happy to play the role, even if I am as blind as a bat.

‘Let’s go, biker babe! There’s not a moment to waste.’ He grabs a handful of my smooth, leather-clad butt and leads me out the door to the lift. Is this all just a funny charade? Either way, I can’t help but find it amusing, so I grab his butt in return and feel that he is in the same material as me.

‘Well, well … we must look quite a sight.’

‘Indeed we do,’ he agrees as the lift descends.

***

We arrive and I sense, given the length of the time we are in the lift, that we must be at the lobby or parking area of the hotel. I nudge closer to him, knowing we are entering the ‘real world’, and my insecurities instantly come back to haunt me. He places me next to a wall.

‘Don’t move an inch, sweetheart. Just stay where you are and I’ll bring her around.’

‘Her?’ Insecurity rises to fear within the space of a millisecond. I clamber against the wall as he leaves me stranded. The roar of an engine coming to life makes me leap with fright as petrol fumes invade my nostrils. The sound and smell are close enough to touch as Jeremy grabs my hand and pulls me toward the monstrous noise.

‘Have you ever been on a bike before?’ he yells as he drags my hesitant leg over the throbbing beast.

‘Only a trail bike on a farm when I was growing up,’ I reply nervously.

‘Well, hold on tight, babe, ’cause you’re in for one hell of a ride.’ He sounds like a teenage kid who is driving his own car for the first time.

‘But I can’t see!’ I scream as he squeezes a helmet over my head and ensures my glasses are correctly positioned.

‘You don’t need to see, I do,’ he shouts back at me over the noise.

The engine growls to life underneath me. He laces my fingers together around his waist.

‘You just need to hold on!’

‘Do you have a licence to ride this thing?’ I yell in his direction.

‘You don’t need to shout. I can hear you now you have your helmet on.’ I hear his voice penetrating the inside of my helmet, straight into my ear. He ignores my question. Uh oh, I realise I have just asked another, and hope he hasn’t noticed.

‘Hold on, sweetheart, and try to calm your breathing just a little.’ He could obviously hear my anxiety through the helmet’s microphone.

‘Easier said than done!’ As the beast lurches forward, I’m almost left behind. I have no option but to hold on to him as tightly as possible as we swerve around a sharp corner. The wild ride of this weekend is clearly still in full octane swing.

We stop and start quite a bit for a while and it takes my balance a while to adjust to the unanticipated manoeuvres. Jeremy isn’t talking so I presume he is concentrating on city traffic, which is at least a little comforting. Now that I am on a motorbike, I don’t feel quite so conspicuous in my outfit. And at least I’m not wearing a blindfold. We pick up speed and the ride eventually becomes smooth, making it considerably more comfortable than the jerkiness of before, where I was continually bracing myself for the next move.

‘Are you alright back there?’

As I feel Jeremy readjust his position on the seat, I realise I am squeezing him so tight, he must be having difficulty breathing.

‘AB?’

My grip is so strong; I’m not game to loosen it in case I fall off. My legs anchor me to the bike while my arms brace his waist. My upper body is slamming against his back so there is not a millimetre of space between us. Just as I tell myself to loosen my grip and tell Jeremy I’m fine, the bike swerves to the right and back to the left rapidly. Great, now he is overtaking someone.

‘Alexa, can you hear me?’ His voice pounds into my helmet again.

‘Yes, yes, I can. I’m okay. Just concentrating on, well, on holding on, really.’ I stammer out the words as we gather more speed. ‘Staying alive’ would have been more appropriate, I muse.

‘Are you scared?’ His questions continue to filter through to my headspace.

‘What do you think? I never knew you could ride.’

‘I’ve been riding for years. It’s great to be finally taking you out for a spin.’

‘Well, I’d rather be experiencing the ride with vision.’ I can’t help but point this out. ‘Please be careful, Jeremy. I really need to come out of this alive. I’m in your hands.’

‘Indeed you are, Alexa. Finally you are beginning to understand. Settle back and relax into the ride; we are on the open road now.’

‘And I don’t suppose you will enlighten me as to which open road that might be?’

‘You know that would spoil the fun.’

At that, he goes full throttle and lets ‘her’ embrace the road at high speed, which does take my breath away.

Who would have thought I’d be riding on a boisterous beast such as this, in pitch black conditions? Not me in a million years. Once I let myself relax a little, not too much though, I have to admit it is a great feeling. Thankfully Jeremy’s position in front ensures my insulation from the harshness of the wind, which allows me to appreciate the exhilaration and openness of the bike. Imagine if the kids could see me now! They wouldn’t recognise me. Jordan would hardly believe it, but would think I was the coolest mum ever. He’d want to take a photo to prove it to his friends and teacher in Show and Tell, although he’d be more impressed if I was riding on my own. Elizabeth would probably be more concerned for my safety and would ask me if I was scared. I can’t help reflecting on whether male and female gender roles and values are that predictable from birth when assessing risk. I’ve never been able to resolve the whole nature versus nurture debate though it always makes for interesting discussion. I wonder how they are going out there in the wilderness and I hope they are having fun.

I don’t know where we are going, or whether the ride is itself the destination. No doubt Jeremy has it all sorted out in his plans for our forty-eight hours of togetherness. He is certainly being true to his word when he said he wouldn’t waste a minute of it. So I calm myself down, snuggle into his back and rest my head against his shoulders. The engine’s rhythm between my legs provides a consistent, pleasant, low-level vibration. My other senses are completely soaking up and absorbing the whole experience. It feels fantastic and I am really, honestly enjoying the ride. I hug him a little from my position behind him.

‘Jeremy, this is really amazing. I would never have dreamt of doing this and I’m loving it.’ His hand gently pats mine as if to acknowledge my words. I immediately freeze.

‘Please, please, please keep both hands on the handlebars. I don’t need to be freaked out more than I already am.’

He laughs as he returns his hand safely to the handlebar. ‘Okay, fair enough.’

‘Thank you.’ I can’t stop myself smiling, just as I can’t deny enjoying the ride. The wind, the speed, the engine, the closeness is awesome … even the blackness is exciting, in a strange, surreal way. I allow myself to submerge in the exhilaration of the journey, not knowing where it will lead me.

We eventually slow down after quite some time, maybe an hour or so, maybe more. I’m not sure and I’m not going to ask. Jeremy assists me off the bike, my legs slightly numb from the ride, and removes the now-constricting helmet from my head. It’s good to stretch my legs, as they are a little shaky from being in the same position for so long. I’m more than a little self-conscious and adjust my sunglasses nervously.

‘Don’t worry, nobody is looking at us.’ He is able to read my discomfort.

‘Are you sure?’ The words leave my lips before any filtering can occur.

‘Yes, I’m sure. Because I can see and you can’t.’

‘Right, point made.’ My nose greedily sucks up the air around us when the fumes subside. There is a real freshness to it. The smell of it, combined with the gentle breeze and birdsong, reminds me of fond childhood memories with my cousins during school holidays.

I remain standing in place until he reaches out and holds my hand in his and we start walking.

‘I can’t believe you never told me you got your bike licence.’ I try to sound indignant.

‘There are many things you don’t know about me, Alex. Hopefully that will change over the coming years.’ Years? I think to myself that even when I try to be light and conversational, he manages to insert a hefty undertone and it keeps taking me by surprise. We pause as I hear him ask for two skim flat whites, no sugar, and could we have takeaway cups, please. Once again, the lack of consultation is a little astounding. Let it go … I relax my mind.

‘Coffee, how perfect,’ I say, thinking it gives me a hint that it must be between 10 or 11, Saturday morning. Or perhaps Jeremy has orchestrated the coffees to make me believe it is morning tea-ish. Stop thinking about time, I lecture myself. You have no control over it so forget it.

‘I thought this might be easier for you than a cup and saucer. Be careful though, it’s hot.’ He sounds like me instructing my kids to be careful when I take something out of the microwave for them. He places the container in my hands and leads me to an outdoor table and helps me to sit.

I raise the cup slowly to my mouth, happily anticipating the aroma and taste, although I certainly don’t need the caffeine to wake up as my nerves are more than fully engaged. Keeping the adrenaline pumping through my veins doesn’t require any additional assistance.

‘Great coffee,’ I comment, after taking a long, cautious sip. I am beginning to realise how much of human conversation is dependent on questions or visual indicators. My lack of both makes my small talk sound shallow and superficial. It’s almost as if we are on a first date that isn’t going very well. My conversational flow is dismal and I don’t know whether Jeremy is experimenting with this, or leaving me in limbo deliberately. Maybe my whole conversational style is question-based these days and, given my background, I suppose that would make sense. Perhaps I find it difficult to develop other short-term strategies when placed in an unanticipated circumstance? How strange that I have never noticed this about myself until this moment, when I’m sitting next to Jeremy, with my coffee, in leather, unable to see.

‘Penny for your thoughts?’ Jeremy finally breaks the silence between us and grounds me back to the present.

‘Funny you should ask. I was actually just pondering the idea of how much of human conversation is based on questions, either direct or indirect. And whether I actively engage in real conversations in any other way than asking questions. And as I say the words out loud, the concept horrifies me if it is true. It’s only an underlying thought at this stage, but the more I consider it in theory, the greater relevance it appears to have for me.’

After my speculating comes to an end, there is an excruciatingly long silence.

‘Jeremy?’ Has he left me? Gone to the toilet?

‘Are you still there?’ I ask. Shit, I am prattling on to myself like a lunatic and he isn’t even here. I curse my blindness yet again.

‘Yes, I am still here,’ he says quietly, taking hold of my hand across the table. ‘I’m really pleased you’re beginning to understand this about yourself. Do you think it is fair that you ask the questions and we don’t ever get to hear about you? Your thoughts? Your feelings? You are so caught up in your professional self it has overflowed into your personal relationships. You are so busy trying to work out everyone else, I sometimes think you forget about yourself. Who you are. What you stand for.’

I am a little taken aback. Well, that’s an understatement. I am a lot taken aback. ‘You really think I’m like that?’

‘Yes, I do. You always had that tendency and it has become more acute with your profession. That is why you are finding it so incredibly difficult to refrain from asking questions this weekend, and letting go, as I knew you would.’ I suddenly feel much younger than Jeremy, psychologically small somehow. Stuck somewhere between the parent/child and doctor/patient relationship. This paradigm is exceptionally uncomfortable for me. I can’t say with any authority how it is for him, although I could calculate a guess.

‘How are you feeling, by the way, about not being visually stimulated?’ His curiosity has a slightly analytical tone to it.

‘It’s not as if I haven’t been stimulated in other ways …’ I say, trying to lighten the mood.

‘No, seriously Alex, tell me.’

Given he has just provided me with feedback on not being open I decide to answer honestly. ‘It is really, really difficult, as I’m sure you would assume, Doctor Quinn. Harder in some ways than I ever imagined … There’re times when I just feel like screaming at the complete and total frustration of it and there are other times, when I am totally caught off-guard and it’s, well … it is …’ I can feel my cheeks warming.

‘Go on.’ He strokes my cheek, gently encouraging more words to flow.

‘It’s just so strange being unable to anticipate, well, anything really. No actions, no words, I just don’t know where the twists and turns are coming from or whether we are coming to a complete stop. Conversations can feel a bit like the bike ride for me, figuratively speaking.’

‘And the other times?’ I notice I’m fidgeting and almost squirming in my seat. I’m used to being the one asking the questions, not answering them.

‘Other times I find myself nervously excited at the thought of not knowing what’s coming next, like when I might be touched or caressed, or even spanked!’ I blush, remembering the exceptionally swift slap on the arse that took me by complete surprise before dinner. ‘I don’t know where all this is leading and I’m really tempted to, well, you know, surrender control … but it is just so hard.’

‘I was hoping you would react this way and you’ve gone way beyond my expectations. If you would just trust me a little more, let me in. I do want you to surrender yourself to me this weekend, more than ever before. I want to reveal the true Alexa, the woman who has been hiding behind a controlled façade for way too long. We know the ins and outs of each other better than anyone else on the planet. We have nothing to lose and everything to gain. And frankly, along with discovering a cure for depression, which by the way I hope to achieve in the next year or two, you are my life’s mission.’

How and when did I become his life’s mission? His words scare the living daylights out of me, as I know what sort of man he is and he doesn’t say such things lightly — ever. Even though his comments are uncomfortable to hear out loud, somehow I sense the truth in them, whether I like it or not. Jeremy has always been able to see straight through me, sense what I’m feeling or wanting before I could put it into words, enabling him to be a step ahead of my thought processes. It seems that this weekend was playing out in the same way. We have never been able to fully let each other go.

‘If that is what you believe, then why do I always feel slightly on edge with you, Jeremy? I always have and I can’t believe it’s still happening after all these years.’ A little frustration enters my tone as I continue. ‘Look at me now, completely dependent on you. You know how much I value my independence, how hard I have worked for it, and that is exactly what you have taken away from me. You ask me to let you in, but how much further can I go? How much more do you want? Is this really about me, Jeremy, or is it honestly more about you?’

‘Interesting insights, Doctor Blake, to which I will give you one, honest response. You know when you are with me to always expect the unexpected. That is what I give you, that which cannot be controlled. Fear, excitement, anticipation, pleasure, the unknown, trust, surrender, all bundled up together. Somewhere in your psyche that combination proves an intoxicating mix. Why do I do it? Because I know, deep down, you love it, and ultimately it will free you from the constraints and boundaries you have set yourself. Think about it, Alex. If I were not in your life, the very thing that would be missing from it is freedom. Even if you get angry or frustrated with me, it is only ever short-lived, so I am willing to take the risk for the phenomenal rewards.’ He pauses momentarily as his words hit me like a brick. ‘There exists between us the ultimate sexual tension, and honestly, as much as we have tried to ignore it over the years, it will simply not be extinguished.’

‘Wow, that is a lot for a blind woman to absorb.’ The power of his words creates insightful paths that branch through my mind and pound in my head as I try to assimilate too many thoughts and emotions at once.

Could it be true? Do I love it? The unknown? The unexpected?

What does he mean by freedom? He keeps using this word …

Does he honestly believe we are destined to be this way?

I feel like he is reading me like a book this weekend, coherently, thoughtfully, cleverly and at whatever speed he chooses.

‘And rest assured, my dearest Alexa, the promise still stands from last night, and I am still counting.’

‘Sorry?’ I say, distracted by the sudden change in topic, still lost in the previous conversation. He repeats his statement.

‘I’m sure you remember only too well that I’m an excellent statistician!’ His tone is fully loaded with innuendo.

‘Yes, of course, Jeremy, how could I ever forget!’ My response equally loaded. I do remember only too well. The memory makes me squirm in my seat — initially uncomfortable, but amazing recollections.

‘What a classic night. One of my sweetest victories and ultimately one of our greatest discoveries about your incredible body …’ Jeremy’s voice trails off as we reminisce and I return to that time in our lives.

There has always been rivalry between us at uni as to who is best at what subjects and we often place bets with each other. Jeremy and I are both taking an elective Quantitative Methods course and had made a bet —whoever topped the class could choose one thing that the other had to go along with for the night, without complaint. I agreeably shook hands and had thoughts of Jeremy cleaning my apartment naked, preparing dinner, giving me a massage and generally being at my beck and call. Yes, I thought, this is an excellent idea for a bet, even more so because I had topped the class in all of our assignments. It never really occurred to me that I wouldn’t win; after all, it wasn’t his area of expertise.

The marks are finally announced: Jeremy scored half a mark more than me because he provided a more complete explanation for the final question. I head straight to Professor Jarlsberg’s office to go through the exam paper with him question by question. Annoyingly, although understandably, Jeremy accompanies me, unable and unwilling to hide the grin that looked far too big and wide for his face. No amount of argument or protest will convince the Professor to either increase my paper half a mark, or reduce Jeremy’s, though heaven knows I try. Jeremy’s smirk seems to double in size, if that were possible.

‘Not a word,’ I said harshly, waving my finger at him before storming off. Jeremy didn’t say a word, but his face spoke volumes.

I deliberately avoid him for the rest of the day, or else he wisely leaves me alone. We cross paths later that evening at our friend’s birthday drinks at a swanky gay bar just off Oxford Street in the city. I have calmed down and am not as devastated by my loss. An hour or so later, when we are all in a group talking, he whispers in my ear.

‘I think I’ll take my winnings now.’

‘Pardon, what did you say?’

He repeats his words.

‘Right here, now?’ I question.

I am a little embarrassed about my earlier behaviour as I’m not usually such a bad loser, but then again, I don’t usually lose that often.

‘Sure, what can I do for you? Buy you a drink?’ I start off toward the bar. He quickly hooks his arm around my waist and whisks me around in the other direction.

‘This way. Follow me.’ I pause, a little confused as to where we are going. It would be rude to leave without saying goodbye and besides, I haven’t been there long and was having fun with my friends. He senses my hesitation.

‘Now!’ His grip tightens as he steers me firmly toward the stairs.

‘What are you —?’

He raises his fingers to my lips, silencing me as we continue downwards. I never even knew this area existed in this bar. He opens one of the extra-large doors to the Unisex toilets, guiding me in before him, closing the door behind us and ensuring it is securely locked. It’s as if we are in a vault. On one wall there is a framed ceiling to floor mirror, otherwise the whole area is carpeted, floors, walls and ceiling. It looks and feels rather luxurious, particularly when you consider its rudimentary purpose.

‘Helps buffer the noise,’ he says by way of explanation as my eyes gaze around the room.

‘From outside or from within?’

He raises one eyebrow and gives me a quirky smile. ‘Hmmm … good question.’ Oh dear, what does he have in mind?

‘Do you need to go?’ His question surprises me as he indicates the toilet.

‘Oh … No! And certainly not with you in here.’ I sound indignant.

He washes his hands with warm water and carefully dries them.

‘For goodness’ sake, Jeremy, what is all this about?’

‘Me winning, you los—’ He stops himself short. ‘You, let’s say, not winning.’

I give him an exasperated sigh and roll my eyes. His eyes darken as he steps toward me.

‘Tell me what the condition of our bet was, Alexa.’

Oh, here we go … ‘“Without complaint”, Jeremy.’

‘Good, I’m pleased you remember. Turn around and place both your hands on the mirror and above your head.’

‘What?’ He turns me around, so I’m facing myself in the mirror, with him standing directly behind me. Even with my killer heels on he is taller than me.

‘Now!’ He impatiently grabs my hands.

‘Alright, alright.’ I sense that this is going to be a very long night.

I do as he asks and wiggle my butt back to where he is standing to lighten his mood. I can feel his erection swelling behind me. Ah, Jeremy, you are very turned on by this! We both let out a small, amused laugh as we catch our reflection in each other’s eyes. His eyes are burning with excitement and arousal.

He hitches up my skirt around my waist and pulls my knickers down to my ankles, waiting for me to step out of them. I give him a resigned sigh and lift my left foot. He ensures my legs are spaced wide apart.

‘Thank you,’ he says politely, as if offering me a chair to sit down.

What is he up to?

He kisses my neck and snakes his arm around my waist not wasting a moment before heading south and cupping my sex.

‘This is going to be fun. Don’t take your palms off the mirror, Alex. I mean it.’

He takes something out of his pocket and places it on the small shelf close to him, out of my line of sight.

Then he starts to play. One hand on the small of my back, underneath my bunched up skirt — although it is pretty short anyway — the other around my front where his magic fingers begin their tantalising quest. The juices within me enable a smooth gliding path for his ease of access. My eyes start to glaze over as the touch of his internal massage gathers impact and precision. He is watching me intently. I start to moan as the tension of the day takes its leave, only to be replaced by another form of rising sexual tension. My palm slips from its position, leaving a moist handprint in its wake.

‘Do not move your hands.’ I attempt to splay my fingers more firmly in place, in the hope of securing greater grip. Oh god … He continues his assault and I know I am close now, hungry for the release only a moment away. How does this happen so quickly with him? His fingers and thumb work in perfect unison and I am on the cusp … the very cusp … enter the vastness … the stillness … losing all sense of awareness … and explode into the beauty and wonder of what he can do to my body. My head leans against the mirror with my hands and elbows as my body convulses to the rhythm he has created when I suddenly feel an unexpected intruder — a shocking, warm, full, sliding intruder, in my arsehole. My sphincter automatically tightens around it.

‘What the fuck is that?’ I pant out the words as I recover my equilibrium, well sort of recover …

‘A butt plug. A couple of mates have just designed it. They want to use their degrees in business and science to develop a business in sex toys, so I offered to test this design for them.’

How can he possibly do the most outrageous things to me then flow immediately on to normal conversation? About sex toys? It even manages to distract me momentarily from my current situation.

‘What is it doing up my arse, Jeremy?’

‘You have a beautiful arse, Alex. I want to explore it more and since I won our bet, tonight I can. And the best thing is, I know I won’t have a single complaint from you.’ As his face explodes into a mischievous grin, I realise I haven’t dared to move an inch since he inserted the invader. The more tense I become, the more I feel it and try to squeeze it out but it just won’t budge. I’m not even game to put my hand anywhere near it. I am aghast, standing staring at him in the reflection.

‘The theme of our evening is Marco Polo,’ he states proudly as I maintain my mannequin position. He cannot be serious.

‘Just as he discovered undiscovered territories of the world, so am I going to explore and discover the undiscovered territories of your body.’

Oh god, he is serious and looking quite chuffed with himself.

‘Breathe, Alex, and you can move by the way. You will be okay, it will just feel a little strange until your body adjusts to the sensations it creates.’

‘Since when did you become such an expert on these things, Jeremy?’ I splutter the words at him.

‘Let’s just say I’m well researched.’

He bends down to pick up my foot. My body jerks in response to the forced movement as he deftly places my knickers back in position. His fingers gently feel the plug, giving it a little push and pull, which makes me gasp out loud before he adjusts my skirt back into a respectable position.

‘Perfect. Thanks for wearing a short skirt tonight, very convenient. Are you ready to join the others? We’ve been in here a while now.’

I stare at him in horror. It hadn’t yet dawned on me that I’d be expected to socialise. His eyes twinkle at the look on my face.

‘Or would you prefer to go panty-less?’

‘God no!’ I freeze in fear at the thought. His lips twitch at the corners.

‘You can be such an arsehole, Jeremy.’

‘Oh, sweetheart, believe me I know, no pun intended I’m sure. And to think, the night has only just begun.’

I look at myself in the mirror and am surprised to see flushed cheeks and a post-orgasm glow on my face instead of the ashen pale face I was expecting due to the invasive plug.

‘I can assure you, you look more fantastic now than when we came in here and I have no doubt will continue to improve as we progress into the night.’ I look at him with an eyebrow raised, seeking further explanation.

‘I fully intend to remove the butt plug the same way it was inserted, but your orgasms will be far more dramatic outside the confines of a unisex toilet, I can promise you.’

His words send my cheeks into an even deeper blush and my vulva into warm spasms that ricochet against the butt plug. As I take a careful step toward the door, I notice the invader’s bite has been subdued and is now replaced by a strange tantalising, sexual pull. It surprises me.

‘Every time you feel it within you, think of me touching you and what is to come. In the meantime, let’s have a few drinks to loosen you up so you don’t look like you’ve got something stuck up your arse!’

He gives me a light slap on my backside and I tense causing the invader to assert its position inside me and then my nipples instantly harden at the sensation. Damn! Jeremy notices immediately.

‘God, I love your body, AB. It’s as if it talks directly to me.’

I congratulate myself for having eased back into conversation with my lab partners, Josh and Sally, reasonably successfully for the past half an hour, trying to ignore Jeremy’s winks and grins from the group beside us. I am resigned to the fact that the invader will be there until Jeremy removes it, mostly because I don’t want to touch it. And it doesn’t feel too bad, actually, not too bad at all, but I’ll never admit that to him. We are in the midst of a very animated discussion when suddenly the fucking plug starts to vibrate deep within me, causing me to jerk and throw my drink in the air. It lands all over poor Josh. The feeling is absolutely like nothing I have felt before and is intense. I try to apologise to Josh, but all I can do is hold on to the bar table, resting my head in my hands as I break into a sweat and start panting. Fucking Jeremy better turn this fucking vibrating monster off! The sensation is so strong I can’t even lift my head to throw him a death stare.

‘Alex … Jeez … what’s wrong? Are you alright? Here, come and sit down …’

Sit down? God no. But how can I explain that to your nearest and dearest friends?

Thankfully, he stops it.

‘Really … I’m okay … I’ll be fine,’ I pant out intermittently.

Jeremy strides coolly over to my side, putting on a great show of looking concerned for my welfare.

‘Alex, you don’t look well. Perhaps I should take you home?’

‘Yes, perhaps that is a good idea.’ I glare at him furiously for what he just did to me, but for once, I completely agree with him. Another stint like that in public would completely send me over the edge and I’m horrified to find myself in desperate need of his promised orgasm. ‘Let’s go. Now!’ He senses the urgency in my voice and efficiently gathers our belongings. We quickly say our goodbyes and promptly depart.

At home, he carefully, considerately, tenderly and lovingly deflowers my arsehole. It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. In fact, the more I relax, the more open I am, and that gives Jeremy room to move within me. It feels tighter, strangely more intimate than vaginal sex, as though he is claiming me, owning me completely. The sensations are totally different, more focused on my lower back and my thighs, while my clit and front passage are being teased and caressed to throbbing intensity by Jeremy’s expert fingers. What more can I say? Except that something I feared so much needn’t have caused me any anxiety whatsoever. Jeremy assures me such success can be attributed to the appropriate preparation and planning. As we lie naked in bed together, we are in awe of our bodies and the experience we have just shared together. Absolutely mind blowing. Maybe I shouldn’t have fought him for so long on this issue … Oh well, either way, it was worth the wait.

‘Guess what? I have decided what I’m doing my honours thesis on,’ I state proudly as we caress each other with languid strokes.

‘Finally! Do share.’

‘I’m basing it on the writings of Sabina Spielrein, specifically examining the connection between masochism and the ego in relation to the female form.’

‘Wow, AB. Pretty heavy topics. Has it been approved?’

‘Yes, just this morning. I’m really excited.’

‘Any reason you decided on that in particular?’

Jeremy looks directly into my eyes, eagerly anticipating my answer.

Suddenly embarrassed by the look in his eyes and the tone of his question, I attempt to dismiss him by rolling on to my stomach and burying my head in the pillow.

‘Alexa? You’re not trying to hide from me, are you?’ He gently tries to pry me back over. ‘Oh Alex, there is absolutely no way I am going to let you get away with this.’

Shit, what have I started here? Why on earth didn’t I just answer him academically like I did with Professor Webster this morning?

He finally flips my body so I’m face up. He straddles my belly and starts to tickle me mercilessly and I, of course, shriek in response. ‘No, stop, please, I hate it,’ I gasp out between attacks.

‘No way, not until you promise to share.’ I’m trapped beneath him as his tortuous fingers continue their assault.

‘Okay, okay, I can’t stand it, please stop.’

He waits patiently for me to compose my breathing, anchoring my hands either side of my head so he has full view of my face. I decide to make it as fast and brief as possible.

‘I’ve always had this fantasy of being completely restrained and blind and flogged and pleasured and I want to understand the root cause because I’m deeply embarrassed by it. There, end of discussion.’

He looks quizzically at me, a smirk on his face but his eyes wide. I silently beg him to leave it be.

‘Interesting.’ He stares at me thoughtfully, the silence expanding between us.

‘Did you enjoy tonight, Alex?’

‘Yes.’

‘A lot?’

‘Very much.’

‘Did you expect to?’

‘No, not really.’

‘I am more than happy to be directly involved in researching any part of your thesis.’

‘Thank you. I’ll bear that in mind.’

‘Thank you for sharing.’

And I can’t believe I’m off the hook.

‘Anyway, I’m thrilled that you are finally on your path of self-discovery. It means my plan is working exactly as I anticipated.’

‘Oh dear, there is nothing more ominous than you with a plan, Jeremy.’

‘Don’t sound so cynical, sweetheart. Look how far you have come already and we still have so far to go.’ He is just teasing me, I’m sure, although his reply is a little too enthusiastic to instil a large degree of confidence in my assumption. ‘Just out of interest, did you ever end up exploring the psychology of your hypotheses first-hand, like we discussed?’

‘No, Jeremy, I didn’t and besides, you would have known about it if I had.’

‘Oh, why is that?’

‘Do you really need to ask me that? As if I would do anything like that with anyone other than you.’

‘I can’t tell you how much that pleases me, Alexa, in so many ways.’ I’m not one hundred per cent sure what his comment implies but I am one hundred per cent sure I want to move away from this conversation, quickly.

‘Okay, far be it from me to put a dampener on this journey you have so carefully planned for me.’ I finish my coffee and place the empty container on the table.

***

I really need to use the bathroom after my coffee. This is going to be awkward. I can’t believe I have to ask him; it is so embarrassing. It is at these times that being dependent is just plain awful. But what choice do I have?

‘No problem, just in here.’ He guides me through a door. His hand threads through my legs and pulls a zipper down around my bottom, between my legs and up toward my belly. I can’t honestly believe he has just done that.

‘The toilet is right behind you. Oh, and don’t worry about your knickers. They’re French, for easy access.’ I can hear the smile in his voice.

‘I’ll leave you to it and wait outside.’

Is there one minutia of detail he hasn’t considered this weekend? Anything left unaccounted for? Probably not, he has always been a meticulous planner and obviously those skills have only been more finely tuned over the years. Zips and French knickers. Good grief! I wonder whether they are for convenience such as this, or did he have something else in mind? The thought shudders through me as I make myself focus on the task at hand.

‘Right, all set?’ he asks.

I nod.

‘Great, come with me. Let’s get you harnessed up.’

Oh crap, is all I can think.

My feet remain anchored to the ground as my stomach embarks on another roller-coaster ride of anticipation, fear, calm, fear, calm, fear, fear …

‘Harness …’ I ask hesitantly. ‘And that’s a statement, not a question,’ I add quickly for clarification.

He leads me silently and blindly forward. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll love it.’

‘Love it? Love what?’ My voice turns suspicious, as I cast around for something that I love that involves a harness. I draw a blank.

Straps are placed over my shoulders as I hear ‘click, click’. I feel rough hands around my legs doing the same thing; around my waist, ‘click, click’. It’s all I can hear as my anxiety rises.

‘Jeremy?’ They don’t feel like his hands. I can smell stale cigarettes.

‘How does that feel, love?’ A strange man’s voice. I realise he is talking to me as one strap is pulled tighter and readjusted. I am tugged and pulled, clipped and then a final snap.

‘That’s better,’ the voice says. ‘Looks like you’re both set. Don’t worry, love, you’ll be right once you get into the swing of it. It’s only the first part that’s shit scary.’ He laughs and pats my shoulder as if to reassure me. My voice leaves my throat and is unable to protest that I can’t see through these sunglasses, just as my legs begin to liquefy. Swing of it? Shit scary for the first part? Although my mouth is attempting to shape the words, there is no sound forthcoming. I desperately try to make sense of what is happening minus the visual stimulation. I have clothes on; that has to be good, doesn’t it? But the zips, the access between my legs, the straps, the clips, they are all very, very worrying. My mind is filled with images of wild sex games and orgies. How could he? Why would he? This is going too far. I can’t do this, I will never do this … It is not who I am. My breath is shallow and my mind freezes as panic sets in.

I hear someone’s voice.

‘Alex?’ It is in the distance somewhere. My knees buckle as my head spins and I struggle for air. I crumple toward my feet and am caught before I hit the ground.

‘God, AB, are you alright?’

‘No, I am not alright at all.’ I’m not sure whether my mind or voice speaks the words.

‘Just take your time, breathe.’ Strong arms around me keep me walking somewhere as my legs wobble beneath me. ‘It’s okay, I’ve got you, that’s it, one step at a time.’

Yes, one step at a time, that’s right, stop the feeling, stop the spinning. Good advice, my mind confirms, as we continue up some steps and along a little further.

‘Here, sit down, would you like some water?’ I’m lowered onto a hard, cushioned seat.

Yes, water, good idea.

‘Alexa, water?’

I have already said yes, then I realise it’s my mind talking so maybe he hasn’t heard me. I nod my head. I feel water at my lips and take a sip, then some more. I need to prolong this to gain control over my head and stomach, and tell Jeremy we need to stop what we are doing.

Take a deep breath … My stomach is still churning but the dizziness is leaving me, thanks to the oxygen.

‘Keep breathing. Good, that’s better,’ a voice says, although I’m unsure whether it is the man’s or Jeremy’s. Breathe in, breathe out, air in, air out, I say to myself in concentrated effort.

‘Alex, please answer me, are you okay? Can you hear me? I’m not sure what happened to you.’

‘I, I’m, I’m a little …’ I hear a door close nearby. Sound becomes muffled.

‘It’s alright, I’m here, right beside you, sweetheart. Honestly, I won’t leave you.’ Something in his tone is mildly reassuring.

‘I can’t, I …’ Words still find it very difficult to follow the path from my brain to my lips. I take another sip of water. I hear another click around my waist and it sends me off. ‘I’m not going to be harnessed up in the air in some kinky sex machine, Jeremy.’

My voice is hoarse, frantic. ‘This needs to stop. How could you? With some man smelling of tobacco. I can’t believe you would ever put me in this situation. You can’t, I won’t.’

I feel tears welling up inside me and I swallow hard in an attempt to keep them there.

‘It’s too much, you have pushed me too far.’

‘Alex.’ Jeremy places his arm around my shoulders. ‘Is that what you’re thinking? What you thought I wanted you to do?’

Tears erupt and my shoulders shake. ‘I can’t, Jeremy, I won’t. I’m just not like that.’ I sob out the words.

‘Sweetheart, I’m not asking you to. This is meant to be fun for you, not something that makes you upset.’

‘How can it not, Jeremy? Look at me, I’m a mess.’

I hear engines roar into life, a propeller, movement.

‘What? We’re on a plane?’ I ask incredulously as the slow turning stops and we accelerate suddenly forwards. The force pushes my body back into the seat until suddenly we are swept off the ground and the atmosphere cradles the plane as it climbs higher and higher. My tears stop in their tracks. I throw Jeremy’s arm off my shoulder and swing my fist into where I assume his chest would be as hard as I possibly can.

‘You bastard,’ I screech. He catches my wrist just before full impact. ‘You absolute bastard!’ Holding my fist in his hand, he replaces his arm around my shoulder once again, anchoring me into the seat, knowing I am desperate to lash out toward him again. I can feel his body convulsing with silent laughter. I could explode as I struggle against him. His arms assert their strength and restrain me further.

‘Come on, AB, I can’t help it if you have a dirty mind. I thought we were just taking a plane ride and here you are, thinking about a kinky sex machine? You’ll have to share with me exactly what you had in mind …’

‘Oh, shut up, Jeremy, just shut up.’ He is in absolute hysterics, laughing uncontrollably. I snatch my arms away from him and fold them together defensively.

I don’t answer him. I am furious, deceived, embarrassed.

I can’t answer him, as I am honestly not sure of the answer myself. Where had the thought come from in the first place, why had my mind automatically leapt to that conclusion above all others? That has to be of concern.

As Jeremy is lost in wild hysterics, I take the opportunity to elbow him sharply in the ribs, causing him to choke on his laughter. This makes me feel a little better as I am seething from the inside out. I decide enough is enough with the glasses, the barriers covering my eyes, and desperately hope the potency of the drops has worn off. I quickly move my hand to peel the glasses off my face when just as quickly my hands are, yet again, snatched away from me. Is he ever not watching me?

‘Don’t you dare, Alex. We went through this last night and you know exactly what will happen.’ He pins both my wrists together in his one hand as if he is perfectly content to sit the rest of the journey this way. No remorse. No apology. I seethe in silence for what seems like ages.

His tone lightens again as he snuggles his face into my neck, the humour returning to his voice.

‘You must admit though, it is pretty funny.’

I can’t believe him.

‘There is absolutely nothing funny about it,’ I respond defiantly.

‘But did you honestly think … honestly believe …’ He begins to laugh again. The look on my face must be enough to make him stop short and compose himself. ‘Obviously you thought it was something really bad. I’ve never seen you react that way … you were trembling.’ He pauses, softens his tone. ‘It’s really important to understand how and why you are going through these emotions. It’s all part of the process. You’ll learn so much about yourself,’ Jeremy says more seriously.

Condescending prick is the only thought that enters my mind at his words, regardless of any potential truth in them.

‘Was it really that scary for you? Was the fear too much?’

‘I don’t want to do this any more, Jeremy. Please don’t make me. I can’t take it any more, I’ll have a heart attack.’

‘Then it is lucky for you I’m a doctor and I’ll save you. Besides, you are in perfect health.’

‘Perfect health means nothing under these conditions, and besides that, how on earth would you know?’

At this point, I feel a sudden gush of wind and am deafened by a forceful roar.

What now? I am being tugged and pulled again, clipped and checked.

‘You haven’t guessed yet?’ Jeremy is screaming into my ear above the blast of wind and engine noise. ‘We’re skydiving, just like we did on your twenty-fifth birthday! Remember, you tried to renege on that, too, but you loved it once you did it.’ Given the noise of the engines and the rush of air surrounding me, I know he isn’t joking. Relief, fear and excitement flow rapidly through my veins. I shake my head in disbelief.

‘I need to make sure you have enough adrenaline pumping through your system so you have energy for later!’ he shouts. There is both cheekiness and sincerity in his words.

‘Well, this ought to well and truly achieve that,’ I say nervously. ‘But blind …?’

‘All part of the process.’

I desperately grip hold of Jeremy, standing attached to me and try to brace myself within the plane as I scream toward his voice. ‘Just because I’ve skydived before,’ and loved it, I admit privately, ‘doesn’t mean I want to do it again, right now. Not like this!’

The pressure of his body intensifies, pushing me forward, and I know the moment to jump is near.

‘Okay Alexa. Three, two, one …’

I am flung into the air. We are tumbling, tumbling, tumbling as air penetrates every orifice of my face, snatching my breath from my lungs and causing my stomach to somersault. Suddenly, my arms and legs are forced by pressure to their extremities, coerced outwards. The noise of the wind quickly overtakes the continuing distancing of engines. All sounds of man-made engineering rapidly vanish as we fly free.

There is nothing quite like the experience of plunging out of a plane, full of hope and completely attached to the person pulling the strings. The force of oxygen pounding into my head overwhelms my entire body. My stomach immediately shifts to my throat as I plummet downwards, and I lose all sense of stability. Instead of lasting a second or two it keeps going and going as I eagerly anticipate the catch of an opening canopy, but it doesn’t and I continue to free fall. The descent takes forever as my stomach continues to flip and turn while my body spears through the nothingness of the atmosphere. How can it be nothing when it is forcing every muscle, every bit of skin, every cell back up against itself? Yet I continue to fall. The noise is huge and my ears could explode. For the first time, I’m thankful my eyes are sealed and covered as the pressure is so intense. I suddenly feel dampness surround me and shiver as I presume we fly through a cloud. We are still falling, falling. Finally my stomach adjusts and I allow myself to relax into the rush, the velocity, wholly and completely. It’s even better than the first time. It is overpowering, all-consuming, an in–the-moment adrenaline rush. My form of ecstasy, heroin, speed, whatever … As I think this a memory floods my brain. I distinctly remember a client telling me that they tried heroin once and would never, ever touch it again. I asked if it was that bad and they said, ‘Just the opposite, it was way too good — so unbelievably awesome that if you went back a second time, you’d never stop.’ Only Jeremy could know that my anger and fury would dissipate rapidly with the intoxicating rush of sheer adrenaline. The thought flashes through my brain that I could easily become addicted to Jeremy.

At this, I want the falling to stop. I suddenly don’t want to allow myself to love the feeling any more. Shouldn’t our fall be halted by the release of the parachute by now? Now I’m not at all happy with my lack of sight. I need to see how far from the ground we are. We have been falling so long my lungs are almost unable to accommodate the oxygen being forced into them. My heartbeats faster at my thoughts, my fear accelerates. If it is adrenaline Jeremy wants for me then he has certainly achieved it. I’m pumping, pumping, pumping, harder and faster. I feel like everything about me is in free fall during these seconds of my life, everything at risk, everything has the potential to be destroyed. And I am in no position to prevent it, to stop it, to control it. I have had many dreams like this before, of falling, falling, desperately waiting for the fall to end, to wake up, to be saved, whatever it takes to not hit the ground. In the dreams I always wonder how I happen to arrive in this position, what causes the free fall in the first place.

Have my conscious and unconscious mind finally collided? And is this the consequence, the conclusion? Were the dreams prophetic, or have I missed some warning? Where is Carl Jung when I need him!

Please, I pray, to myself, to anyone, please let nothing go wrong, please let me live to see my children again, please, please, please get me through this in one piece. I don’t want to die; I’m not ready to die … How can we still be falling? How high were we? 10,000 feet? 15,000 feet? Did we fly that high, higher maybe? I realise now I was too stressed and distracted to take any notice of anything else at the time, including the discovery of being on a plane in the first place. Surely we should …

We stop, abruptly.

Silence.

The harness pulls tight between my legs and it feels like we have come to a complete standstill. My ears are deafened by the silence after the pounding vibrations only seconds ago. We begin to float … softly, quietly. Thank you, I say silently, thank you. Overwhelming relief permeates my being.

I am very aware of my heart pumping blood through my veins, but the noise has calmed, the pressure has eased and my limbs are not being forced outwards. They fall limp as the tension fades. We are floating calmly, beautifully, wonderfully and freely in the world. It is so peaceful. My stomach resettles itself somewhere near my bellybutton, although I can’t confirm it returns to its original position. Close enough, though. I am smiling now, relieved and thrilled with the experience. I’m happy, free, exhilarated, overwhelmed to be alive. Warm tears flood my eyes as emotion releases from within.

Thump, thump, my knees buckle underneath me as the ground pushes up into my body with a jolt and then … nothingness.

Unsure of my consciousness, I find myself wrapped in a hug with my feet barely touching the ground. Arms securely around me. A hug. A real hug. I feel him unclipping me and turning me to face him. I bury my head deeply into the chest I know to be Jeremy’s and allow the intoxication of adrenaline and relief to wash over me. I shake. I bury my head harder. Arms tighten around me. I sob. And sob. I can’t stop. I’m overflowing. Trembling. Shaking. Long, hard, full body sobs. For a long moment in time.

There are no words shared.

The arms don’t let go, still holding on tight.

They don’t let go. There is no need to speak. These arms won’t leave me.

Breathing eventually returns to normal via deep sighs.

After a long time, a finger lifts my chin, lips lightly brush my lips and linger for a moment. The arm securely wraps around my body and leads me away, half walking, half carrying.

No words are necessary as our bodies move in unison. Then quiet preparation going on around me as I am lowered onto a blanket. The sun is warm, the breeze gentle. I am still blind. I know that I will be until the forty-eight hours are over. I’m at ease with it now. I no longer have the will or desire to fight it. I accept it. I am calm.

The preparation noise has stopped. I remain still.

No noise. No words. Just the wind, the birds, the smell of salt in the air, ocean waves gently moving back and forth to their own universal rhythm. My shoulders are lowered to the ground. A light touch on my cheek. I feel a body closing in on mine. I try to find a face. I do. I pull it close to mine and inhale its scent. I pull it to my lips, to my tongue. I need this face. I need to kiss it deeply, to penetrate its mouth. I need to convey the depth of the emotion I feel. To transfer the longing, the urging, the deep force within the core of my being which has lain dormant for so many years, so this face has some understanding of what it has done to me in the past, what it is doing to me in the present, of what I am going through.

My body is writhing and throbbing under his body. There are too many barriers between us, physical ones. I’m not close enough. It’s intense and it’s frustrating. I struggle to find ways in, to find some way to remove the barriers. I need closeness. I crave it. I can’t. I’m foiled. My hands don’t make it, they are lost, prevented, kissed. The throbbing continues deep within me. My hands are held tight, trapped under the weight of his body. Like the sobbing earlier, the throbbing also eases with time. My breath returns, my heartbeat slows, eventually. As does his.

‘You are overwhelming, all-encompassing, all-consuming.’ He slowly breathes into my ear. His words heighten the intensity between my legs as I again wait for the ache to subside. He could always trigger this pre-orgasmic feeling over the years with a look, a touch, a comment. But rather than being diluted over the years, it has now reached a concentration I never imagined possible.

‘Do you feel the same way?’

I nod, too overcome to speak, not daring to acknowledge the underlying truth in his words. ‘What have you done to me?’ is all I can manage to barely whisper.

‘You do know I love you, Alexa.’ His tone is serious, his voice overflowing with emotion.

‘Yes, I do. You know I love you, too.’

‘It’s strange, isn’t it, having a love like ours that isn’t based on traditional love per se.’

‘It always has been … strange between us … intense … playful … intoxicating …’

‘Our unexplained, unreconciled love …’

‘At least we understood that at a very young age.’ Or did we? I wonder silently.

Jeremy’s mood seems to have shifted. I’m used to him switching from playfulness to challenging, from forcefulness to reflection, but this is slightly different. He seems to be talking to me on one level and lost in his own thoughts at the same time. The dark undercurrent still lingers beneath his words. I don’t know if I’m unwilling or unable to explore further. Not being allowed to ask questions doesn’t help especially as I keep getting in trouble when I do. And now he says he loves me. My roller-coaster of blackness is becoming as much emotional as it is physical.

I feel exhausted, numb.

Alive.

Calm.

Intense.

Light.

Energised.

Overwhelmed.

Frightened.

Lustful.

Special.

***

I lie down on my back with my elbows propping me up. Jeremy offers me some water. Basic needs become an urgent priority as I realise just how thirsty I am. I splash it down my throat and gulp and gulp and gulp.

‘Thank you.’

‘Are you hungry?’

‘I’m not sure.’ He hands me a sandwich and I take a bite. ‘Hmm, maybe I am.’

We eat and chat and chat. And chat and eat and drink as the wall I have carefully constructed to protect me from my feelings for him over the past decade crumbles more completely.

‘Can I ask you something?’ the voice beside me says.

A flash of anxiety passes through me for a millisecond and I send it away.

‘Sure. What would you like to ask me?’

‘Do you ever do it back there, any more?’ I must have looked as confused as I felt because his hand slips under my crotch and gives a little push toward my butt. ‘You know, back there.’

‘Of all the things to ask! No, I don’t. Not since you anyway,’ I explain, not in the least expecting this change in topic.

My arsehole must remember the feelings of the first time as it starts to react to our discussion.

‘Why not?’

‘Why should I?’

‘Alex,’ he says flatly.

‘This question thing is ridiculous!’

He returns to the subject he wants to discuss. ‘But you loved it.’

‘You loved it and that’s why you did it. You were obsessed with it, ever since the butt plug night and still are by the sounds of it,’ I add.

‘But your body loved it.’

‘I’m not so sure …’

‘Oh, but yes it did. Your body loved it a lot.’

He rolls me over on to my stomach and simply cups his hand over my leathered behind. Tingles immediately zap through my body as if to prove the point.

‘Well, it may have, eventually, but I didn’t,’ I say quickly, attempting to close the topic. Why is he talking about this?

‘Isn’t it one and the same?’

‘Obviously not,’ I reply.

‘Really? So you are actually admitting that your mind and body might be thinking and feeling different things?’ Oh, here we go, our age-old discussion …

‘Why are you trying to trap me with your words, Jeremy? Honestly, you are making me doubt every assumption I’ve ever made in my life this weekend. It is really disturbing me.’

‘Ah, this just keeps getting more perfect by the hour,’ he says, laughing with confidence.

‘I don’t find it even vaguely amusing, actually.’ I say nothing more in the hope that he will move on to another topic of conversation.

‘I’m only asking because I’m involved in some research that deals with exactly this issue.’

‘What, arseholes? And back door entry?’ Now it is my turn to chuckle as I consider exactly what this sort of research might have involved back at uni. No doubt Jeremy would have eagerly volunteered.

‘No, not arseholes, Alex,’ he says more seriously, then jokes, ‘Well, not yet anyway, but I am happy to experiment with yours whenever you’re ready.’ He strategically strokes my leathered behind. ‘More about that later. Right now, we need to get going.’

‘Oh, do we have to? The sun feels so good it would be lovely just to stay here a little longer and have a siesta, don’t you think?’ I settle into a sideways sleeping position.

‘It would be, but it is not going to happen. I’m not wasting my hours with you sleeping when we are on a time limit. I am making the most of every minute.’

‘How much more can we fit in, Jeremy? Drinks, baths, dinner, dancing, singing, sex, orgasms, breakfast, bike riding, coffee, skydiving’ — I say with great emphasis — ‘and now a picnic. Isn’t that enough for a week, let alone one day? We’ve already done everything. Let’s rest a little, just half an hour or so. There’s still plenty of time.’ I say the words although I’ve no idea how much time is left or where we are. I place my hand out to try to find him and pull him toward me but he has moved.

‘You haven’t changed, have you? There’s so much more to experience, to awaken within you and so little time.’

‘Isn’t skydiving the ultimate experience? I promise you, Jeremy, I feel well and truly awakened, probably more so than I have for many decades.’ My mind wanders back to this morning and the pulsing sensation reignites in my groin from the memories.

‘I can assure you, sweetheart, I have barely begun.’ He strokes my cheeks and lightly kisses my lips. Shit! Barely begun? What more is there? My heart starts racing — again.

‘There is an amazing innocence about you, Alexa, even after all these years.’

I’m not sure whether to be offended or not.

‘We need to get moving now so we can rectify your innocence. There is no time to be lost.’

‘No. I’m not moving. What innocence? What are you talking about?’ I would never use that word to describe myself. I stay stubbornly seated.

He completely ignores me. ‘If you’re not going to move, I’ll just have to do it for you. A man’s work is never done these days.’ He sweeps me up from the blanket, his hand firmly grabbing my arse in the process as if to reinforce our conversation. After taking a few steps, he places me on a warm seat, fastens a seat belt around me and readjusts the sunglasses to ensure they are in the correct position, once again ensuring I am utterly in the dark.

‘We’re in a car?’ The engine roars to life, as does the rhythmic, tribal trance music coming from the speakers and off we go. We must be in a convertible given the wind once again whips around my ears as we hit the open road. At least this will be a little more comfortable for the journey back to the hotel. Although on second thoughts, after a long bike ride, a plane trip, the parachute jump and now being in a car, I have absolutely no idea where we are or where we could be heading. We could have crossed state lines for all I know. My curiosity regarding our whereabouts is peaking, as I’m sure is Jeremy’s intention. Even so, I dare not entertain asking the question. So I sit silently, enjoying the psychological space the music freely offers my mind.