He’d called me by mistake, requesting to speak with a Miss Shelia and to schedule their appointment for dinner at the Velveteen Rose. I informed him, that he had the wrong number and was unable to direct his call as didn’t know the person whom he requested.
I could tell he was frustrated but surprisingly he then began to engage me in conversation. I normally don’t do phone conversations, avoid them like one would avoid the black plague. I had answered by mistake meaning to hit the end call button. Yet, here I was talking to a stranger who had a caramel sweet voice.
We talked daily after that often texting and leaving voice notes for the other as we both felt an inexplicable draw of intrigue and interest in the other. We decided to meet, as our banter had become more playful and I’d teased him to the point he just had to see me in person.
The first time was at a cafe; my choice to have four shots of espresso to calm my nerves ended up not being a good choice. I was so nervous upon meeting him and seeing him, that my face was in a constant state of rosiness. He found my shyness endearing which was a relief as I had worried he’d make an excuse to leave.
We talked or rather he talked and I listened, for hours as time seemed to stop. Before he left, he asked if I’d like to kiss him. I nodded, he pulled me in and kissed me. It was a sweet slow kiss that left my lips wanting more.
We parted ways, but keeping in touch had planned on meeting at a nearby pub during his conference as he’d be in the area then.
Those months of waiting only fueled the anticipation and excitement of what might happen between us.
The day had finally arrived and I had spent the entire time trying to figure out the best choice for our date. I ended up going for elegance, choosing a dark lacey dress with kitten heels and white tights underneath.
It was a Sunday evening, not too crowded given it was early evening hours. I’d arrived early, to give myself time to calm my nerves and ordered a drink. I didn’t have long to wait as he arrived a few minutes later wanting to be early as well. He was so sweet, flirting and touching in a light sensual way that caused me to blush.
I teased as the liquor gave me a sense of false bravado and courage. It wasn’t long before he suggested we go back to his place. I pulled his shirt, “mine is closer,” I whispered then I skipped ahead.
I left him to follow and I swayed my hips just a bit to tease and then we arrived. He helped me open the door. Once inside, I just froze a little, maybe this wasn’t a great idea. I’d never brought a guy home before and my nerves must have shown.
The next thing I know, I was feeling his kiss softy placed upon my forehead. “Sssshhhh,” as he pulled me close.
I thought to flee, to run was my nature, yet the comfort he brought wore down my resolve.
“Bastard,” I muttered, knowing he knew the effect he was having.
He smiled, “Don’t you want to serve me?”
I went into some eloquent speech about, “It’s subjective dependent upon variables…”
He sighed, causing me to pause, as he tilted my chin up, kissing me firmly.
Then he spoke clearly and slowly to draw my attention to him, as he said, “Stop thinking so analytically, just say plainly what you want.”
He looked me in the eyes with such intensity and his tone made me blush, but I was still upset by the lack of attention I’d received. So I made some short quip remark, I knew it was dangerous to provoke him, given couldn’t predict his response.
Instantly his hands wrapped around my throat, found myself being lifted and pressed against the wall. It was cold and hard, as I thought how the ‘how the hell does this look so romantic in pictures but feels so not now?’ He whispered, “Attitude, Miss, will cost you,” he smirked, kissing me as my arousal grew. I had no control with his hands on my neck holding me in place.
It triggered a response from my body causing my arousal to increase as I felt it trickle down my legs. I was at a loss and couldn’t explain rationally why he was having this effect on my body. My heartbeat quickened and my lips longed for his.
Seeing my hairbrush laying on the table, he took it and gave three swift strikes across my bum, then three on the other. Oh, how I wiggled, struggled to get free, crying, begging him to stop, that I was sorry and it hurt. As he finished, he pulled me close.
“Respect always, is that clear?” He said in a firm tone, I found my voice to be shaky but managed to stutter out “yes” and couldn’t believe he’d reduced me to feeling like a schoolgirl – after all, I wasn’t in high school anymore.
He raised my chin, “Hm, ‘yes’ what?” His tone was softer this time.
Blushing, I said, “Yes Sir.”
“Good girl,” he responds as he pats my head, I feel butterflies, all melty and gooey on the inside. blushing as I smile, feeling like a kid who just has gotten a sugar rush from eating too much Halloween candy.
These moments made it worth it. I often wondered what he thought of me. I couldn’t get a read on him – he admired my mind, how I thought and poetry was written, but he was so much more clever as well as intelligent than myself and wiser.
It was my weakness and curse: all for the mysterious, intelligent or creative soul who would posse a charisma that drew me in and would often end in my heartbreak. I wondered if I could trust him.
He told me how I had walls up and it was true. I had tried to let him in, but couldn’t stop walls from appearing that he was left to scale or make me use magic to cause them to vanish.
Living in my headspace, he was never flesh and blood. Just a character possessing many traits of my favourite male romance novel leads. Then one night as the moon was full, and with a rare blue glow to it. He appeared just as I’d always imagined him.
Dressed in a suit, so fine, it was velvet, with his deep soulful eyes, and greying hair that only added to my attraction to him. He bade me listen to his voice, as he massaged my temples, undoing the stress I carried and causing relaxation.
I then became his, not here entirely anymore. I watched myself from above as my body complied and obeyed his instructions. I had cum hard experiencing an intense orgasm and awoke not sure of where I was.
I wondered where my clothes had disappeared too. Where was I? A soft voice asked me if I knew who I was. Surely one knows that but I couldn’t think… What was I? He slipped his t-shirt over me, holding me close, petting my hair, and slowly I come back to reality.
Yes, I was in his arms, that spell and wishing stardust had worked. They made my fictional man into a real human being and one who was mine as I was his forever after.
Sleep came quickly, as he whispered in between gentle kisses, “Don’t be afraid, you’re safe with me and you’ll never be alone again.”
