Appointment

(Little mature in subject matter - read at your own risk.)

She slipped out of her coat, and the refreshing coolness of the air stirred her awake inside. Here, she didn't have to function. Here, there was nothing to solve. Here, there wasn't even a solution. Here, there were only hands and eyes and scents and suggestion. A smile curled around her lips from somewhere deep in the pit of her belly.

This was her vacation. This was her time off. This was her freedom and her expression. She knelt, felt the soft silk wrapped around her neck. They pulled, and she followed.

A man with a soft face and hard eyes inched away her buttons. His lover kissed the skin that he revealed, her lips soft and numbing from her cool mint gloss, so cool it burned. Her cotton was torn away – off her shoulders, from her chest, from her hips. She was exposed in satin, her throat concealed in that violet silk. The lovers circled her, surrounded her, tracing her form in soft violet. Their prey's lips parted and the air invaded her.

It fled out in one long, slow gasp, a gasp of hours. Their heat defied her reason. Their gentle edges cut deep into her composure as they drug and slid and tasted. Her control was compromised in smooth fabric chains. She didn't remember being bound into the frame, but as she hung there in the luxury of slave, she was thankful. The man's breath was hot on the back of her neck. His lover's tongue was warmer still upon her belly. The cool mint of her kiss set a fire in her that her lover stoked with a slow, searing engagement.

When it was over, her body ached. Her cheeks were dry and stained from tears. Her lips felt cracked and hoarse from that long slow, breath, stealing the moistness out of her. They had drunk her dry and left her hanging in the dark – just as she'd requested. When she was ready, she would slip free of them herself. When she was ready, she would sheathe herself in cotton, button up the sensing flesh from her navel to her throat.

She would close herself again – she would be a professional. Her needs would be met, and they would not distract her. Deep down, she knew that this was just another solution to a short-term problem in her busy schedule. Part of her knew this wasn't what she truly wanted.

The rest of her was still bound for a few minutes more, content and empty of the tears of her buried need for touch. The silk kept that need in check, in place. In bondage.

She was still in control of her life, she thought. Even her extremes were in her planner.