4 comments/ 35333 views/ 3 favorites Kyle and Sarah Ch. 01 By: steve w This is part of a longer piece, but should make sense on its' own. Would love to know what you think. Thanks. Eight o’ clock sharp, he’d said. And there she was. Right on eight o’clock. To be honest, Kyle hadn’t fully noticed her predilection for doing what he said, until it was pointed out to him. But once he’d seen it, he wondered how he’d managed to miss it. He’d noticed her attraction to him, which was easy enough. They’d been introduced by her husband, Luke. He was a big noise in Human Resources. A nothing job, and it fitted Luke like a glove. He was a bland, grey, ineffectual man. As if painted in pallid watercolours. He seemed to melt against any surface he contacted. He’d introduced Sarah at some corporate gathering or other. Kyle wasn’t in the habit of keeping track of where he’d first met people. They tended to gravitate back towards him anyway, so why should he care when they first met? He’d seen Sarah from the back a couple of minutes beforehand, so he’d already checked her out. She was slim, admirably so, with suppleness to her movements that reminded Kyle of a gymnast he’d once dated. She had a certain fluidity to the muscles that caught his eye. She was pretty, but not spectacular. Her skin was pale, and beneath the make-up Kyle foresaw a slightly hollow look to her features, as if permanently convalescing from something significant. As they shook hands he saw that her eyes were a warm blue, almost purple, somehow deepened by the paleness of her skin. As the handshake finished, she stroked her fingers across his palm as she withdrew. He flicked his eyes back to hers, and her eyes had widened, almost flashing a signal to him. He briefly wondered if Luke had noticed, but the stupid bastard was already speaking to someone else about golf. He glanced back to her as she looked down at her chilled chardonnay, the kind of cheap piss a bank of this stature should send back to the caterers. “Why?” She looked at him quizzically, neither understanding the question nor its context. “What do you mean, why?” He extended an arm around her shoulder and led her away from her husband. In every possible way. She went willingly, allowing him to stroke her collar bone as they passed by several groups to a quiet corner. He briefly wondered if she was used to cheating on her husband, or if this would be a first. “I mean, why did you marry Luke?” She stared at him. With her in strappy heels, they were virtually the same height. If she was staring at him hoping to get a window to his soul, she was out of luck. He wasn’t aware of having one. “What the hell business is it of yours?” Kyle smiled. He’d seen this type of moral indignation before. How dare you. Who do you think you are? What right do you think you have to….and so on. It was an opening gambit he often used, and with marrieds and long-term partners, it had an impressive success rate. He thought he could see where this was headed. “Because I’m interested in you. Very interested. If you tell me you married Luke because you’re madly in love with him and he’s your soul mate for life, I’ll back off. But you won’t tell me that. Not if you’re honest with me, anyway. And why shouldn’t you be honest with me? I’m being totally honest and upfront with you. We’re both adults, so playing games is just wasting both our times.” Sarah smiled. “I’d heard you were a cocksure little bastard, but I didn’t think you were this bad.” “Well, that’s partly right. I’m cocksure, yes. I’m sure of myself because I can be. Because I know what I’m like and because I know what women like.” “Says you. As it happens, I did marry Luke for love.” “And?” “And what?” “And when did it start going wrong? When did it turn into something you’d settled for? When did you stop seeing him as an object of passion, and more as your best mate? When did you stop being the one he broke all the rules for, the one he wanted to touch every hour of the day? When did he stop wanting to hold you all night?” Sarah’s response was something between a laugh and a choke. “Christ, you’re full of shit. What the fuck do you know about it? And, I repeat, what’s it got to do with you anyway?” Kyle smiled a little half-smile like he knew a secret. “Because if you were crazy about your husband, you wouldn’t be about to cheat on him. You wouldn’t have done that little thing on the handshake, you wouldn’t have been so eager for me to take you away into a corner, and you would have slapped me and gone back to the party by now.” Sarah was silent for a second. Kyle waited patiently, staring at her fringe until she lifted her head again. “Maybe I’m too passive. But that doesn’t mean I’m about to cheat on him.” “Yes you will. Look, I make no bones about it; I like to sleep with a lot of women. That’s me. That’s who I am. You can call it shallow or selfish if you like, but it’s all about me getting what I want. Sometimes they’re married, sometimes they aren’t. It doesn’t matter much to me, and it usually doesn’t matter to them. So believe me, I know what I’m talking about. “You’re what I would call a waverer. You’re not unhappy in your marriage. It gives you a lot of things you want in life, both emotional and financial. But it doesn’t do enough for you. It doesn’t make you scream during sex, it doesn’t make you tingle inside to think about it, it doesn’t make you neglect your life and your friends. But you want that. You want the rush of excitement, a bit of adrenaline. Sooner or later, that urge will be too much to contain, and you’ll stray. Maybe not with me, maybe not soon, but you will. It just needs the right blend of opportunity and desire.” “Perhaps I should just slap you.” “Perhaps you should.” He backed off slightly, and spread his arms wide, offering her a target. “So go ahead, if you really think you should. But if you don’t, I’ll take that to mean you’re interested. And I will get to you. And I will make you scream.” Kyle turned and strolled back to the party, trying not to think of her face. He wandered over to the drinks, helping himself to an orange juice, deciding he would prefer a clear head for the rest of the night. He was pouring when he became aware of her beside him. She poured herself some water, and spoke without looking in his direction. “If a woman like me wanted to try something else, she’d go for someone with discretion. Someone who could keep the whole thing clandestine, not go blabbing to the rest of the guys about what a score he’d made. She’d want someone who could conduct himself with a bit of dignity and class, so she could keep the things she liked about her marriage. And that, Mr Cocksure, certainly isn’t you.” She moved away, leaving Kyle to smile into his cup. Yes it was. It was him. And it was him she wanted. Now it was just a question of logistics. The next day, the company Intranet turned up Luke’s home telephone number. It wasn’t difficult to find. All that corporate bullshit about being open, and forming teams, made it a slam dunk. He waited until four o’clock before he rang. If she was one of those women who “did lunch” she’d be back from shopping about then. He knew she didn’t work, and there were no kids to worry about. And Luke didn’t earn enough to have a house that warranted a full-time domestic. “Hello?” “The Dominion Hotel. Room 233. Eight o’clock tomorrow night.” “Who is this?” He put down the telephone, and went back to work. In the hotel room, the telephone rang. He answered it curtly, and the receptionist placed through the call. It was Sarah. “Why do you think I would possibly come to see you, in some sleazy hotel room, for some sort of secretive fuck behind my husband’s back? There are thousands of men in this city, why would I want an arrogant little shit like you?” He paused. Perhaps he had misjudged the other night. Perhaps she thought it was all a harmless game, a mild flirtation that, in the cold light of day, had lost its flavour. He wasn’t wrong often. But he could be this time. She sounded composed, poised. “You’ll come because you want to. No-one’s forcing you, Sarah. You’re an independent woman. At least, you are when you don’t have to drag around behind Luke and pretend to laugh at his stories. Let me guess. You liked his sense of humour when you first met him, didn’t you? Thought he was wry and amusing. At least, you told your friends that. And you told yourself that. It made you feel superior, to be interested in a man because of his wit, rather than looking for the most attractive guy you could get. But now you’ve heard all his funny comments a thousand times before. And they’re old and stale. And the way you fuck with him is old and stale. Am I right?” There was a pause on the other end of the line. A brief hesitation that said he was correct. “Maybe…..but before we go anywhere with this, I have to know that it won’t get back to Luke. He doesn’t deserve to get hurt.” Oh yeah. The clincher. He knew where this was going now. Of course Luke deserved to get hurt. He deserved it for neglecting his wife. He deserved it for getting emotionally involved, and falling in love, when he could have been like Kyle. And he deserved it for being a boring little shit. It was all self-inflicted. Still, if Sarah needed to hear it….. “I won’t say a thing. What you tell him or not, that’s up to you.” “Goodbye, Kyle.” The phone went dead. He started at the receiver in his hand for a second. Then replaced it. Two seconds later was a knock on the door. She’d been standing outside the room for the whole conversation. He smirked. She’d been coming all along. The talk was just to salve her conscience. Make her think that this was safe. That it wasn’t really quite like cheating somehow. That it was all…..acceptable. He opened the door and walked away without greeting her. All part of the same thing. Not identifying himself on the telephone yesterday, and now not acknowledging her presence. He sat down in a chair that faced the door. She was standing in the doorway, framed against the cream light of the hall. She was unsure, and her glance down the corridor made his heart flicker. It might have been a little fear that she’d walk away. So he swallowed it down and re-focused. She stepped into the room and placed her purse down on the edge of the bed. She turned and closed the door, sliding her coat off one shoulder. A bare shoulder of smooth, alabaster skin. As the door clicked shut, she turned the lock, and the coat slid from her body. He hadn’t told her to, but she’d arrived naked, but for the coat. He struggled not to look impressed. Wherever she worked out, it had done good work. She’d retained her muscle tone without bulking up, or losing so much fat that she got skinny. She looked slim and athletic. And very nervous. He rolled a glass on the palm of his hand. He leaned his head from one side, to another. As if he was passing judgement. Just to let her know that his judgement, his opinion, what he wanted, was what mattered most. She just stood there, waiting. She was, he decided, waiting for instruction. He nodded towards the bed, a large, wooden framed bed with way too many cushions on it. She sat uneasily on the edge of the bed, her head down and hands clasped awkwardly in her lap. She was blinking too often, and he could see a flush brought to the skin around her shoulders. He put the glass down, the noise echoing through the room. Only the background hum of the heating filtered through the silence, which grew heavier by the second. He watched her patiently, even though she didn’t move. Just by watching her he could get her to move, to speak, before him. Then he’d know. Then he’d know what he could do to this woman. She bit her lip, and the stillness dragged on. Two minutes, three minutes, four. She sat mutely, barely moving her fingers. Her skin began to acquire a sheen, a gossamer-thin film of sweat. She bit her lip again and looked up and in front of her. She caught a sight of herself in the mirror opposite the bed. A pale, naked woman waiting patiently for a relative stranger to fuck her. A cheater-in-waiting. The view made her face crumple slightly. He thought for a moment she was going to cry, but she fought it back and swallowed. And waited some more. After six or seven minutes she couldn’t take it. She looked across at him. He could see that tears were welling in her eyes. “So what now, Kyle? Are you going to fuck me or just sit there?” He smiled. A slow, almost savage smile that never got anywhere near his eyes. “Sarah…Sarah. So much to learn……one thing you’ll find out about me is that when we fuck, we do everything by my rules or not at all. I’ll have to teach you what that means. Don’t worry, you’ll like it. In fact, you’ll be begging me for the next lesson by the time we’re through. But you will do that, Sarah. You will do that.” His voice was calm, steady, and low. He kept it that way deliberately, and she did his bidding by straining to hear him, leaning over towards his chair. When he got up she flinched, and he ticked another box inside his mind. This was going to be good. She was compliant, responsive and passive. And someone else’s wife. Just the way he liked his women. He crouched down in front of her, his face barely six inches from hers. He could see her eyes dancing, as if she were trying to pick out some part of his face that would tell her some inner truth. He could see she needed some kind of absolution for what she was doing. Not that he was about to give it. He wasn’t an absolution guy. He wanted her to feel how wrong this was, even while she was doing it, even while she was enjoying it, and especially when she was asking for more. That’s what sexual control meant to him. Her breaths were short and intermittent, needy. He decided to take his time with her. Sometimes he met a girl and the attraction was instant, and animal. They seemed to connect on a raw, instinctual level – though rarely on any other – and it wasn’t necessary to establish any ground rules. But it was different with Sarah. He wanted her to be gradually drawn into his world. He wanted her to sink slowly into his mire, feeling herself drowning in the quicksand, but knowing that to struggle, to fight it, was going to make it worse. He wanted her to feel every inch of her descent. And that meant going slowly. He whispered. “Lay back, Sarah, and close your eyes. And don’t open them, not even once, until I tell you.” As she closed her eyes, he thought he detected a glimmer of a smile dance around her lips, but then it was gone. She gently eased herself back on the bed, her stomach muscles flexing as she moved. He watched her ribcage rise and fall as she breathed. He just stood there, taking her in. Time was something he had plenty of. Time was his weapon. He trod heavily towards the door and opened it, his eyes fixed on her. He saw her flinch as she heard the latch click, but she redoubled her efforts and gripped the sheets with long, slim fingers. He could see when she swallowed. He glanced up and down the corridor and saw that it was entirely empty. He made his voice slightly louder than normal. “Hey, come and look at this, man…..look, take a look at her.” He watched her the whole time. He saw her tense once when he spoke, and again when she started to understand what he was saying. He saw her feet rise slightly off the bed, toes curling, before she regained her control and tried to relax. He could see the tendons on her forearms flexing. And he could see her screwing her eyes even more tightly shut, as if that would hold out the humiliation. He waited, and waited, until he felt she was becoming more controlled and less agitated at the situation. Then he laughed. “Yeah, I know. Okay man, maybe I’ll let you play with her later. I’ll see how she fucks first.” He saw her flinch again, and for a second he thought she was going to blow it, open her eyes or blurt something out. But she didn’t. She didn’t twitch when he closed the door. He stood by the door and regarded her again. She was good, very good. Impressive, in fact, for a non-professional. And the more he watched her body, the more he liked it. He moved slowly, noiselessly, to the side of the bed, not wanting her to know which direction he was coming from. He could imagine her trying to heighten her other senses, to compensate for her lack of sight. Maybe trying consciously to pay more attention to her hearing, to her sense of smell. He’d deliberately worn no scent of any kind. He consciously moved lightly and softly whenever he changed his position in the room. Now he was standing over her, slightly to one side, making sure his shadow didn’t cross her face and give her an inkling of where he was. He had a chance to really look at her face. She was, he was beginning to appreciate, a very beautiful woman. He wondered why he hadn’t really taken that in before. Her cheekbones were fairly high, and her nose was what they termed ‘aquiline’. In repose like this, albeit a nervous and edgy repose, she looked almost porcelain in the delicacy of her face. He liked that. Not just because he liked anything beautiful, but because he loved to watch a face change as it went through conflicting emotions. It was like watching a prairie sky, a whole year’s summer days, winter blizzards, thunderstorms and sunsets. He leaned in close to her. She twitched at his first words. “Very good Sarah. I’m impressed so far. Now, put your arms above your head and hold onto the headboard…..that’s it, hold on tight. I don’t want you to make a sound. Not under any circumstances. If I hear any sound from you at all before I give you permission, I’m walking. Do you understand?” She nodded mutely, and bit her lip again. Kyle withdrew and watched her breathing. It was just a little bit more restless, a little bit more hesitant, than before. It was time for the first lesson. She kept her head very still. Her body moved occasionally as he stood watching. A little shuffle or twist of her body, as if to remain comfortable. He could see from her fingers that her grip on the headboard was tight. But her head remained still, as if she thought that was the key to keeping control. Kyle smiled to himself. If she thought that, she obviously didn’t realise who was in control…. He leaned over her and kissed her forehead. Very lightly, and very tenderly. He checked his own breathing to make sure his own was regular and even. The sheen of sweat was now covering most of her body, and he longed to just lick it off her, but he needed to show some control, too. It wasn’t easy being the dominant one. He had urges and desires to restrict, as well. He licked her neck instead. Long, slow circles with his tongue, snaking into the little well below her ear. He felt her shudder slightly as he did it, and marked it down for later. His was a very methodical, almost forensic, inspection of her body. He wanted to find out what got to her, what reached new levels inside her, what set off the sparks. So he could exploit it. As he licked her neck again, he ran his nails along her side, raking into it as much as he dared without breaking the skin. He wanted it to hurt, though. He felt her flinch once again, and smiled to himself. The sweet contrast of the pain from his nails, and the languid luxury of his tongue on her neck. She needed to understand that, and welcome it. His hand ran up her stomach, and he gently played with her nipple, running his fingers lightly back and forth over it, as his tongue snaked its way down her chest. When his licking reached her breast, he closed his hand over her other breast, letting her feel the heat of his body against hers. With his tongue, he began rotating circles around the nipple, never touching it, just blowing on it occasionally. He kept this up for some minutes, and then began massaging the other breast with his hand, rolling the palm across it as he did so. The quiet in the room began to stretch like a wire. Her breathing was shallower, while his remained steady. They both worked silently on the things they were compelled to do – she, to endure; he, to begin the controlling process and confirm her passivity. Kyle and Sarah Ch. 01 At his first touch of her pussy, she let out a half-stifled moan. Barely that, just a little whimper as he brushed her clit. But it was enough. He stood up immediately and went to the far side of the room, leaning against the wall casually, with his arms folded. He enjoyed the little signs of desperation. The movement of her head, as if looking around the room. As though pointing her head at where she thought he was, would offer any relief. The involuntary closing and opening of her legs. The writhing of her body against the coolness of the sheets. Squirming, he thought, like a worm on a fisherman’s hook. He waited, and she calmed down a little. Her hands never left the headboard. Although she’d made a sound, it wasn’t as if she’d talked or something. He just wanted to make the point. He felt sure she was smart enough to know that, given time. She seemed to settle into more of a reasonable frame of mind. The writhing and other movement stopped. Her breathing slowed slightly, and she resumed her previous position. Two people came and went down the corridor outside, their murmur of conversation invading the silence. She didn’t turn in the direction of the door, and he judged that she had her concentration back now. He crept slowly to the foot of the bed, sure that she had no idea whether he was close by, or still at the other end of the room. He crouched on the floor by the foot of the bed, and reached over. Firmly, but without an attempt to cause pain, he slapped her clit, once. She spasmed, her body arching as he took in the sudden rush of blood, of feeling. Her mouth opened in shock and surprise, but she managed to keep any sound from emerging. As she settled her head back into the pillow, he saw her smile. He waited three or four minutes before he touched her again. She was starting to understand today’s lesson. That pleasure could come from any quarter, any direction, at any time. But that it would only come with her compliance. Anything less than total obedience to him would be rewarded by withdrawal, by a total loss of pleasure. And that loss would be her fault. It would be self-inflicted. Because he was establishing the ground rules here, and each time she did his bidding, she was acquiescing to them. This was the way of it. This time, he made no effort at surprise. He grabbed both ankles, and shoved her legs wider, and leant on the bed. Both hands reached under her ass and cupped her cheeks, and he slid his tongue firmly, insistently, into her folds. She was wet already, as he knew she would be. Probably had several little bombs go off in here already. She tasted sweet, and he relished it. His tongue sank as deeply as he could inside her, and he began to swirl his tongue around, probing, exploring. He wanted to touch her pussy walls as much as he could. He could feel her ass clenching and unclenching, as she found herself unable to fully control her movements. She began to move again. He felt himself becoming displaced, detached, from the moment. His mind’s eye could see a picture of them from above. He was kneeling on the floor with his face buried deep in her groin. She was a pale figure of rippling and shimmering beauty, shuddering and silently gasping as he took her to orgasm. He was getting hard at the thought of that sight. He could feel her building, moving towards a final peak. He ran his tongue roughly along her pussy lips, almost rasping at them with his tongue. There were so many things he wanted to do to this woman he could barely stop himself from trying to do them all at once. But he had to focus on the lesson. The lesson was vital. He moved up to her clit and gently took it between his lips. Then he began to lightly suck at it. That did it. He felt her body tense, and then he was fighting to keep her down on the bed. Her heels were dug into the mattress, and her grip on the headboard remained tight. She clenched, she gripped, and she twisted. Her face screwed up, her teeth bared, and he relished the transformation of the haughty, proud features into something more animalistic. Her mouth was open in a silent scream that just seemed to go on and on. But, once again, she managed to hold back the noise. She fell back onto the sheets with a gentle thud, her body expended. Her breathing came in short gasps, and the red haze across the skin of her upper body began to melt away, replaced by the smooth porcelain once again. He gently licked the inside of her thighs, where her pussy juice was oozing slowly into the sweat on her legs. When he felt her breathing was something close to normal, he got up, moved one of her legs, and lay on the bed alongside her, and watched her settle again. “Keep your eyes closed, but you may speak now. Enjoy that, Sarah?” She kept her eyes closed as instructed, but nodded slowly. “Yes, I did…….that was delicious……different, but definitely delicious.” “That was just the start, Sarah. I’ll have to think about what I do to you next. Assuming I do anything at all.” He rose from the bed and went back to the chair. He watched her for a couple of minutes. Some kind of internal dialogue was taking place on the bed. She frowned a couple of times. Then she spoke. “Didn’t I please you then? I did what you wanted.” “Sarah, Sarah. I could get a thousand women to do that. You show some promise, but I know plenty of girls who would do that for me at the drop of a hat. I have to decide if you have enough potential to make you worth my while. You can open your eyes now. And leave.” She sat up abruptly. Her face crumpled slightly, and a tear edged her eye. “Leave? Just like that? I thought we’d spend the rest of the evening together, Kyle. What did I do wrong? I followed all your instructions. I even turned up naked underneath the coat. Please Kyle, please. Let me make you cum. Fuck me, please. I don’t want to leave.” He sat forward and glared at her. “What you want Sarah, is of only passing interest. I’ll decide if it’s over for the evening and if it’s over for good. Never forget, it’s about what I want. If you get a cum, or a fuck, or whatever, out of it, that’s just lucky for you. That was one of the lessons of this evening. I thought perhaps you’d learned it, but it appears you haven’t. I’ll have to think about whether you’re too slow a student. And I do my best thinking alone. So get your coat and leave. Before I get sick of your bleating and decide you aren’t worth the time and effort.” She was inches from bursting into tears, he could see that. Her lips trembled, and she flushed with indignant anger. He’d been deliberately cruel with his words. Not because he hated her, but because he had to have the ground rules established right from the start. It was a message he needed to impart, and if she crumbled at hearing them from the first time, she couldn’t take the other things that were already forming in his mind. She picked up the coat and left the room silently. Kyle smiled and reached for the room service menu. She’d passed the first test. Soon, he’d give her the second lesson. Kyle & Sarah Ch 02 It wasn't his apartment, but she didn't know that. As far as she was concerned, he'd just given her an address and a time, and she'd turned up. He'd spent a couple of hours in the apartment before she arrived. He'd showered, changed, and found the things he was looking for. He'd made sure he knew where most things were, so that he'd look like he'd lived here for a while. The apartment overlooked the river. The lights in the blocks opposite were sheathed in a gossamer-fine drizzle that slewed from the sky. The lights of the city gave the clouds an orange underglow, and seemed to dampen the usual sounds into a muffled silence. Contemplating the view made him relax too much – he became too serene and didn't like the feeling at all. He should be more keyed up when she arrived. He'd told her what to wear. She'd queried him about it – it had seemed to her an odd choice – and that was the point at which he'd switched off the telephone. It wasn't for her to second-guess how the next lesson went. The reception desk buzzed him, and he approved Sarah's ascent to the fourteenth floor. It was actually the thirteenth floor up but, like all buildings, there was no floor 13 as such. He saw on the security camera as she walked to the elevator, that she was dressed as he'd required. He opened the door and left it ajar. He was almost too impressed when she walked in. As instructed, she was wearing training shoes, low-slung combats, and a short white t-shirt that exposed her midriff. It seemed to suit her, despite the fact that he was sure she wouldn't wear that kind of thing normally. Luke, ten years her senior, already dressed like an old man at the golf club, and Kyle was sure he'd regard this kind of outfit as "unsuitable" in some way. But, quite the opposite, it suited her fucking well. She looked stunning, and he had to make an effort not to show it. He watched her in the reflection from the window as she closed the door and stood, hands clasped in front of her, awaiting orders. "You're late Sarah. Don't be late again." His voice was soft but the words carried weight. Sarah looked at her feet momentarily and apologised. "Sorry Kyle. There was a hold-up on the train and...." He held his hand up and she stopped instantly. It was strange how effective that was. "I don't want to hear it, do I? Did I say why are you late? Did I ask you for an unconvincing explanation of why? No, I didn't. I just stated a fact. I gave you a time and you were late. Any reason why I shouldn't just tell you to fuck off? Is there?" Sarah glanced at her feet again. "No Kyle. I'm sorry." "Take off your shoes and come over here." He leaned back against the sofa as she came over to him. That languid, liquid walk she had intrigued him. She seemed to flow across the surface, with an athletic symmetry to her movements, although he wasn't aware that she had a sporting past. Perhaps it was just natural with her. She stood before him, those indigo eyes looking straight at his. He realised he'd underestimated her when he first met her. She wasn't the simpering girlie figure he'd assumed her to be. There was a bit more steel in her than that. She was a bit sharper, a bit more together, than he'd first realised. But he hadn't been wrong about the state of her marriage, or about her latent compliant streak, her need to be dominated. That was his innate gift, and it hadn't failed. As she got close to him he reached out a hand and slowly, carefully, moved her hair from the side of her face. In doing so, he gently caressed her cheek. The gentleness was a cruel hoax. As his hand slid through her hair, he suddenly grabbed a handful of it and squeezed. But he was oh-so-careful. He didn't tug her head. He didn't cause her head to move an inch. He just tightened the hair on her scalp, twisting it in his hand until her eyes widened. Then he leaned forward, put his other hand on her throat, and kissed her. His kiss was hot, passionate and unexpected. It kicked off little fires inside her, the near-pain of his hair-pulling and the insistent urgency of his kiss. Their tongues clashed as she relished the fierceness and she felt badly wanted. She lifted her hand to enmesh it in his hair but he roughly slapped it way, pushing it back to her side. She got the message. She let her arms to hang limply at her flanks, and allowed herself to be kissed, and to be controlled once again. But this time was different to the first lesson. This was rougher, harsher without being painful, and somehow more mutual, despite his control. She could sense his passion this time in a way she couldn't before, and it made her feel good - very good, in fact. Kyle drew his head back and stared deeply and silently into her eyes. He just kept looking and looking. His focal point was beyond her eyes, inside her. He didn't notice the flecks of brown in her eyes. He was looking deeper than that. She returned his stare and there they stood, one hundred feet above the river, for at least a minute. At last, it seemed to Sarah that Kyle had gotten the answers he'd sought, though she couldn't tell how. Maybe it was another test, to see if she'd remain silent. If so, she passed. Kyle let go of her hair, and a slick buzz raced across the top of her spine as her hair fell back against her skin. She realised how much her nerves were dancing, how her body was slightly arched towards him in expectation, and how keyed-up she was for tonight. It was a feeling that she'd pushed back down on the way over here but now, alone in the silent room, she could let it flow. That's what this was all about for her, letting latent feelings flow unchecked. Kyle reached around with his other hand, so that he now had two hands on her throat. His grip wasn't tight, or uncomfortable. He could feel her pulse in his fingertips. She was agitated, excited, super-aware. He leaned in and past her, moving his mouth to her ear. Very quietly he whispered. "Don't move your legs until I say so." She was about to nod when he began to move towards the window, taking him with her. With an understanding that betrayed her need to be acquiescent, she let her legs go limp, and allowed herself to be dragged by the throat towards the glass. His grip was cleverly arranged so that she felt no pain, and could draw breath. It wasn't a breath game. It was more subtle than that, more psychological than physical. Their eyes remained locked on each other. In four short steps they had reached the glass and she, like a limp rag doll, looked into his fierce eyes, awaiting the next instruction. Kyle struggled to keep his breathing even. He was aware that part of his role was to always be in control of himself as well as her. Every action had to be deliberate, yet seeming to be instinctual and natural. As if this was his natural state of being, and her responses should be innate to her as well. But it wasn't easy. She seemed to be more beautiful each time he got nearer. Some faces seemed to be made for smiling – they came alive, they broke easily into laughter – but Sarah's seemed to be made for this kind of submissive subjugation. It added to her beauty, to be silent and controlled. He kept his grip on her throat, but moved around behind her. He could see her shoulders moving as she breathed, and could see that her breaths were becoming shorter. He gently eased her forward slightly, until she put two sweat-slicked hands onto the glass, leaning against the window and looking down to the riverfront walk. She saw couples huddled under umbrellas, lights like tearstains from the far side of the river, and winking red eyes from the tops of the towers. And she felt him unfasten the front of her combats, and snake a hand down inside them. Kyle's mouth was inches from her ear, as his hand slid slowly down towards her cunt. She felt her hips flex involuntarily as his fingertip brushed over her clit, then slowly sidle back up and press gently against it. She bit her lip to hold back any noise. "Sensitive little slut, aren't we? I noticed that last time. If I was a nice guy, I'd just play around with your clit all night and watch you cum. You're very entertaining when you cum. You kind of lose control over any limbs that aren't fastened to something. And you're an eye-roller. Your pupils tilt back for a second just before the big release. See? I notice these things. Does Luke notice them?" The mention of her husband made her flinch, as he knew it would. Here and now, with his fingertip pressed gently against her clit, potentially in view of hundreds of people – if only they would look up, look across, look in, at their whim – it was incongruous. It reminded her that she was fucking around, that there was someone she'd promised her life to, and it wasn't the man breathing fuck-words into her ear. Kyle liked her discomfort. He made a mental note to mention Luke whenever he thought she was getting comfortable with this. It was a zero-sum game – he maintained his equilibrium provided he kept her off-balance. "That's right, Sarah. Hubby's at home, while you're here getting your clit seen to. And you chose to come here. You chose to fuck around on him, because there's a need in you that you can't stop anymore. The genie's out of the bottle." His left hand slid up her midriff, snaking across the stomach muscles below her shining skin. Her body felt hot to the touch. He could feel her muscles move beneath her skin as her breathing remained agitated. His fingers slid underneath her tee shirt and slowly rolled it up her body. In the reflection of the glass he could see her nipples pressed tight against the fabric, and then exposed to the world. He took a quick glance at her face. The little bitch had her eyes closed. He grabbed her hair again and tugged her head back. Her eyes flew open in surprise, but she held her position. Her mouth was open and, as he held it there, he longed for a camera - a video camera preferably. Hmmmm. "Did I tell you to close your eyes, Sarah? Well? Fucking did I?" His voice hissed with anger and impatience. She was briefly worried that he was really angry and would tell her to get out. A small part of her mind wondered why that disturbed her – this arrogant bastard exposing her, treating her like his personal fuck-toy. But another part of her mind realised that her only concern right now was the potential withdrawal of this delicious feeling of being controlled, of being used, by someone who knew how to do it right. She shook her head, as much as his insistent grip would allow, and he let her hang her head forward. She felt his foot against her ankle, nudging her leg until she moved it, closing her legs tightly together. The angle made his finger press harder against her clit, though he hadn't moved his hand at all. She gave a sharp intake of breath, and had to fight the urge to close her eyes and just let the orgasm shake through her body. As it was, her body was taut, stretched like a spider's web, and under his control. Kyle used the silence to consider his next move. He pressed himself against her back, allowing her to feel his erect cock through their clothing. He pressed it against the cleft of her ass, allowing her to sense how well it fitted the groove. His left hand tugged at her combats and, after a second tug, they slipped over her thighs, and slid slowly down to her ankles. Now his cock was pressing through his trousers to bare flesh. She felt a slight breeze from some ventilation point at the window, which let a gentle draft of air drift past her thighs. "That's better Sarah. That's what you secretly wanted, wasn't it? Anyone looking into the apartment window will see a slut exposing herself, and waiting for a guy to either spank her clit until she falls over, or stick his prick inside her. They'll see a nasty little whore who doesn't care which one it is, along as he gets on with it. Because she can't fucking wait to cum, no matter who sees her do it. That hits a little fantasy spot, doesn't it?" She looked through the glass and their eyes met in the reflection. She closed her eyes slowly to signify 'yes', and a thousand messages spun between them in a vortex of unspoken permissions. Her consent drifted to him and, as it did so, her breathing slowed slightly. As though, in yielding the last vestiges of self-determination, she felt release. She dropped her head again to the subjugated position, seeing only the sheen on her thighs. She sensed that he was kneeling now, behind her. The grip of her hair had gone, but her scalp still tingled as her hair fell slowly back into place. Again, that rush along the top of her spine as her skin became alive, even to her own touch. It felt like the nerves were pushing through towards the surface. His finger was still on her clit and still exerting the same, constant, unyielding pressure. She felt so alive and aware of her body, that she could have made herself cum just by closing her eyes and wishing. Never, never before, anything like this. Kyle regarded her smooth skin for a moment. Her back blended smoothly into her ass, the muscle tone making it one elegant curve. He could see her body moving slightly as she breathed, and he noted that her breaths were more even now. She was getting too relaxed, too comfortable. She wasn't here to be comfortable. She was here to tread a very fine line between what she wanted, and what he felt she deserved. She was here to feel the adrenalin of anxiety and shock. With his left hand, he slowly prised apart her ass cheeks, and blew cool air onto her asshole. At first, she shuddered a little, and he thought she was going to squirm away, but she recovered enough to stay still. He blew again, just gentle air like a summer breeze. She was still silently enjoying it, when he pushed an ice cube into her ass. He saw her thigh muscles tense. Initially, the ice was so cold that it didn't register. It pulverised the nerves inside her ass to the point where they couldn't register or communicate. He could sense the confusion of her brain as the ice entered, the incongruity of anything going in rather than out, the acute temperature difference between the ice, and the heat of her body. She felt the sheer shock of the unexpected. He smiled as she lifted herself onto the tips of her toes, and swayed slightly towards the glass. And then, as she settled back down onto the balls of her feet, he smiled again. Because she realised that not only was the sensation not unpleasant, it was wickedly wonderful. And she wanted to feel it again. She wouldn't, not yet. She still had to learn that her pleasure came as an irrelevant by-product of his toying with her. He leaned in and licked her ass, allowing spit to dribble down his tongue and lubricate her opening. His right hand began to gently stroke the smooth skin between her ass and cunt, which was now shimmering in the lights of the city as his spit oozed downwards. This worked, this always worked. As he licked, he slowly increased the pressure of his finger on her clit. He sensed the change in her straight away, as he kept up the attention on her. She knew - they both knew - that she couldn't stand this very long. Virtually naked, exposed to anyone caring to look, his finger pushing her clit, his tongue on her ass, and a melted ice cube inside her – it was too much. She screwed her eyes up in a desperate bid not to scream. This wrenching orgasm was shoving its way through her, oblivious to her panic-stricken attempts to control herself. It wanted out, and it was going, whether she wanted to allow it or not. She felt a slight dizziness and a roaring intensity rush through her body from head to toe. She could practically feel her blood ripping through her veins, fizzing and crackling as it went. Her head lolled and her knees bucked slightly, and Kyle spanked her clit just once, to be sure. She half-slumped against the glass, feeling the cool surface pressed against her nipples, as she fought to stand up. She had no idea how long it took, just that she'd managed not to fall as she came. Her skin felt super-heated, and there was nowhere near enough oxygen in the room. And Kyle was still licking. He stood, with his trousers on the floor, and pushed his erect cock against the firmness of her ass cheeks. He'd let go of her clit now, and she had an aching desire to touch it herself. Even though that was against the rules, and her clit was too super-sensitive to take any sort of contact. Her orgasm, while it had brought her body to a peak of excitement, had only led her to want more. She was greedy for new and different sensations – a hunger she hadn't known she possessed. He slowly pushed another ice cube into her ass, and another one. With each cube, her asshole relented a little more easily, a little more willingly, a little more naturally. She was getting used to the idea, and feeding off it, and welcoming it. That wasn't part of the deal as far as he was concerned. He pushed his cock insistently into her ass. She braced herself against the glass and, before she could register the shock that he'd done it, found herself pushing away from the glass and back onto his cock. It was such an instinctive reaction, she couldn't tell where it came from. She just did it. Her ass was fairly relaxed, and slightly lubed by the melting ice. But the main part of the cubes had remained inside her and, as he pushed further, she could feel the ice being forced further into her ass. Into areas that had never experienced anything like this before, that had no concept of cold, or of contact with anything like a solid object. Such was the heat racing around her body, and the mass of confusing images, thoughts and emotions inside her head, that she forgot to tense up. Her body betrayed her, in its willingness to yield to him, and allow him to go anywhere he wanted. The contact of the ice with the muscles inside her ass sent shots up her spine like a Catherine Wheel spinning out of control. He seemed so close, so fucking close, to the base of her spine, to the core of every nerve she had. The ice was melting now, and all that remained was his impossibly hard cock. It was so perfectly sheathed by her butt that it seemed impossible that it could ever move. But moving it was – her ass muscles rippled along its smooth length as he began to slide in and out of her asshole. Kyle was impressed by how she'd taken to it. He wasn't long but he was thick, and the ice wasn't a huge amount of lubrication. But just after she'd cum, she was too hot to ignore any potential excitement, and her willingness to accommodate the ice cubes had served a twofold purpose. First, they'd provided some lubrication, aside from the spit his cock had picked up when it was pressed against her. Second, it was clear that she was a natural. He settled into a slow rhythm as he allowed her to get used to his cock inside her ass. It was such a different feeling to a cock inside her cunt. For him, it was tighter than he'd ever dare to hold himself, and hotter than hell. It also looked fucking sensational. For her, it was a whole different mass of nerves, a whole new level of delicious friction between her body and his cock. She would feel him in a way that her cunt never could. Once he felt she was able to take him, he leaned forward. "Like my cock in your ass? Like being a dirty little bitch? Like taking my dick anywhere I fucking want to put it? Tell me." Sarah felt like she couldn't breathe properly. She felt as though taking his cock demanded every ounce of concentration she had, and even thinking about breathing would be enough for her to lose it. She could feel another orgasm swirling around the pit of her stomach, or her ass, or somewhere. All parts of her body seemed to meld into one continuous sensation. It scared her, and yet she wanted to relish every second of it. She could only afford one word. It had to be the right word – a magic word. Kyle & Sarah Ch 02 "Harder". His left arm snaked around her waist straight away, and he tugged her tightly to him, taking a little of her breath as he squeezed harder. It forced her body to be mashed against his, moving when he moved. His thrusts became shorter but sharper, almost vicious in their intensity, as if he was trying to punish her with his cock. It became a savage fuck, and she realised with horror that it was exactly what she wanted. His right hand grabbed at her hair again, but this time, he yanked back her head. It made her back arch and her head spin backwards until she could see the ceiling. At this angle, his cock seemed to spear into her totally. There seemed, impossibly, to be no part of her body that he wasn't reaching. Her mind couldn't quite compute what was going on. It didn't quite scan, and the confusion just seemed to add to the passion. It made her feel more helpless, more controlled, more dominated. He pulled her hair again, and her back arched further than she thought possible - further, further back, until she could see his face, reddened by passion. His eyes were boring into her from above. Drops of sweat fell from his face onto hers, as he rammed himself into her, oblivious to her enjoyment or shock. She could see that this was all about him, about him driving himself into her simply for his own satisfaction. And yet, it was turning her inside out. Finally, Kyle could feel it rising inside him, and he closed his eyes and concentrated on letting it flow. His cum spewed out into her ass in five or six spurts. It felt red hot, as if heated by her insides as it splashed them. He could feel it oozing back onto his cock, making it slick, as if their bodies could go at this again. He released her hair and she fell limply forward, held up only by his arm as she surrendered to an exhaustion that was more emotional than physical. She felt spent, and complete. He felt exulted, like the king of the world.