George handed me a glass of wine. I gulped religiously when his back was turned. “So, a personal trainer, huh? It shows.” Smooth, Anna. Just smooth.
George smiled, showing those dimples. Effectively reminding me of that certain someone. “Thank you. Shows on you, too.”
“I try,” I took another sip. A brief suction of air was followed by a tiny hiccup.
George retained his smile, but the concern in his eyes said it all. “Are you okay?”
I placed my glass (my weapon!) down onto the coffee table. “Just a little nervous, I guess.”
George placed his own glass down. “Don’t be.”
Start flexing girl! I turned my head to the side and around, rubbing the back of my neck. “I think I’m just tight—” I rolled my eyes at my word choice when I turned away for a moment “—and sore on my neck.”
George grinned. I could practically hear the bell chime in this ring. “Allow me.”
Round one goes to me. Although, this was such a clichéd tactic. Wasn’t it in Pulp Fiction that John Travolta said sixty percent of all massages concluded with sex? Here’s hoping George hadn’t recently watched Pulp Fiction; or that he wasn’t a full on movie buff.
I felt George move closer to me as he rubbed my shoulders. His lips climbing to my ear. “Does that feel good?”
His whisper sent tingles all over my body. “Yes,” I breathed.
He placed a gentle kiss on my neck. “And that?”
I nodded, closing my eyes. “Mmm.”
“You’re so beautiful and funny and sexy, Anna,” George said. “I’m surprised you’re still single.”
My eyes shot open. Okay, so it wasn’t exactly the kind of sweet nothings I wanted whispered into my ear. Big deal. At least he took the ‘sore neck, in need of a massage’ bait. Kudos to him!
I held his hands still and turned. “How about we move to the bedroom?” I was trying on my sexy voice that Chloe had once coached me on. Dirty words was easy-peasy for me; it was the sexy voice that made me feel a little foolish. Only at the start though, once I got the ball rolling it was watch out soccer fans!
We stood and George pulled me by the hand towards his room. We stopped just before his closed door. “I have a confession though.”
Oh, great! I’m at home with a psycho-date-skin-peeler-killer! I smiled as politely as I could while trying to simultaneously look for the closest cell with my peripheral vision. “Yes?”
“It’s kind of a sexual thing I liked to do. It turns me the hell on!” he laughed. “And I think it’ll turn you on too. If you’re open to it.”
Okay, maybe he was only half a psycho. “What is it?”
He opened the door into his bedroom, and I was half-expecting it to be crypts and metal chairs and lists of safe words; leather straps and chains and gaping holes in questionable devices, all riddled with the scent of disinfectant. But when he finally turned on the light, it just looked like any other room.
I turned to him, confused. “What am I looking at?”
He pointed up to the ceiling, and there it was. Hanging was a horizontal silver pole, extend on each end by chains from the ceiling to make the pole reachable.
George held me from behind. “Got any upper body strength? I want you to be blindfolded and cuffed to that pole.”
“Umm…” I blinked a couple of times. I wasn’t exactly liking the idea of being cuffed on a third date.
George chuckled lightly and stepped into his room, giving me a bit of space. “Without the cuffs then? I can see you’re a bit hesitant but I promise it’ll be worth it.”
He reads minds!
How does anyone even agree to this? “Okay. Fine. I’ll do it.” Huh? Okay, now my mouth was running off without my brain.
“Great!” George grinned. “Stand below it.
I followed his words and waited for him to pull out a draw and grab a blindfold, still sealed in its packet. Before putting my hands up to hold the pole, which by the way, was not such an easy feat as much as I’d liked to think so, George pulled both straps of my dress down, out through my arms.
“Like this?” I asked, fumbling for the pole for the second time.
“Yeah,” he said. “When you come, make sure you lift your feet off the ground. Do it any time, but especially when you come. The blindfold is just so your every sensation is heightened.”
My heart began picking up in anticipation and excitement. New was good, right? I mean it’s definitely interesting. I know I’ve never done this before. Although, I wonder if you’d count the headboard of a bed? Because I’ve held that sucker before like it was live or die!
“Every sensation of what?”
“Don’t worry, no whipping or spanking is involved unless you want it to be involved.”
“Ha!” I burst nervously. “Okay.”
Suddenly, I felt his lips on mine. Incredibly, it wasn’t the same as just closing your eyes. I felt everything. The softness, the sweetness, the smell of wine, the wetness of his tongue thrashing against mine. I swirled mine with his, feeling somewhat liberated and randomly sexy all at once. Giving myself to him felt oddly enough like taking control. The adrenaline was inhibiting.
He slid my dress off as he kissed downwards. Following a trail down my neck, exposing my breasts and sucking on them. I moaned as his tongue swirled and suck on my nipple. Concentrating on holding the pole and keeping myself up on my toes was so hard while he kept this up. I gasped in both frustration and as he flicked his tongue quickly over my nipples.
He gave my breasts one last squeeze, and my head fell back as he further descended, peeling my dress off my body. I felt the dress drop, now completely naked, standing before him. For a moment I didn’t feel him, and I was listening out really hard on whether he was undressing himself or not. Then I heard feet move and his voice whisper a ‘mmm’.
When his tongue slid into me abruptly, I shuddered from the shock. The chains rattled, and as I worked my upper body strength to lift myself up higher, taking my feet off the ground as he told me to, I moaned even louder. His tongue flicked rapidly, and just when I was getting into the groove, the chain jolted from the ceiling, collapsing the pole, instantly dropping me. The pole, still in my hands, came crashing down until something hard suddenly stopped it in its tracks.
“Argh!” George yelled. A thud immediately after.
I stood frozen, hunching and still blindfolded. “George?”