Sarah Weston was doing well for herself. She had a good career and she had survived two years of marriage that had not been all bad, but had simply petered out. She had moved on. Then one day she met someone, someone who knew things about her that she had not even confessed to herself. He had plans for her, but first he would seduce her. Her Black Knight would take Sarah on a path into sensuality and surrender that would turn her inside out.
Italian Dinner for two: What I noticed first were your neat ankles and those evocative shoes you wore as you sat listening. From the back you seemed too young to be attending such a gathering, I imagined you to be still in high school, so petite in a neat black skirt suit, your hair tumbling down your back like a bitter chocolate waterfall.
I was sitting five rows behind you and I watched your delicate pale hands flit about your conference pack, plucking at papers then scribble notes as the speaker droned. PowerPoint slides marched by unheeded; I saw only your legs. You wore killer heels, I supposed to give you height but it was the ankle bindings that enticed me, black patent leather straps with gleaming metal buckles. They encircled the ankles of your tiny arched feet, hinting at darker sensual bindings. You looked like a little doll, a plaything that any man would want in the worst way.
"I find you very attractive. You are tall, broad shouldered, you seem quite fit and you're mature, a man of the wide world. I love the way the light shines on your skin like a bronze sculpture, the different tones and colours that I can see as your muscles move under your skin." You looked away, suddenly reticent and asked, "What about me, do you find me attractive?"
It was my turn to laugh and ask, "The soft or hard core version?"
"You choose," you still avoided my eyes.
I thought for a few seconds, enjoying the feel of the road under me, the fat tyres clinging to the surface as the powerful motor thrust us forward, cocooned in expensive technology, polished wood and fragrant leather.
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