The First Adventure of The Anyone Couple
By Lupo_D
Don’t bother going to your hotel - I’ve
canceled your reservation and secured other lodging. You are in room 206 at the Windsor. Your bags are already taken
care of. See you tonight.
Irritation caused her face to flush again as she read the note for the seventh time that morning. The nerve of him! Who does he think he is anyway, to go and change my reservations without my knowledge or consent? Especially after the crap he pulled this morning! She balled the note up and made as if to throw it away, but something stopped her, and for the seventh time, opened it up, smoothed it out, and folded it neatly before placing it in her purse.
They’d fought this morning. About what, she wasn’t entirely sure, now that she thought about it. Something simple, something that shouldn’t cause the kind of eruption she’d displayed. The most maddening thing was that he didn’t really argue with her. Couldn’t he see that she wanted to fight?! He just remained calm, and once or twice he even had the gall to grin at her, which only served to piss her off even more! Grinned! It had finally irked her so bad that she said some things she probably shouldn’t have, and stormed out of the house for the airport. She thought she’d escape out of town for a couple of days, and give him a chance to think about his attitude and then acquiesce that she was right when she came home. But this! He’d followed her! Her anger flared again, and she resolved that when she saw him again, tonight the note said, she’d unload on him like she’d never unloaded before.
She spent the remainder of the day in a simmering rage. Most of her project mates couldn’t see it, but everyone at the conference could tell that something was different about her. When questioned, she’d just comment that she was just interested in getting the whole thing over and done with, and didn’t want to waste any time in the process. Nobody thought this was odd, even for her, especially when they considered how long they’d been at this thing, the long hours, the weekends. They just shrugged it off and went about their business.
Finally the day was over. The response to this proposal had been far better than anticipated, so the team suggested they all go out and celebrate. She turned down several offers from her team to join them at a local club, feigning a migraine that was coming on. Actually, she felt fine, but she had spent all day working up a good mad, and wasn’t ready to take the edge off her anger just yet. She hailed a cab, and much to her further irritation, gave the driver her original hotel address before remembering the note. She told him to take her to the Windsor instead, which brought a skeptical look from the driver. The look she gave him back told him he should mind his own business and get her there like yesterday. The driver, to his credit, said nothing, just turned around in his seat, flipped the lever, and went to work.
Ten minutes (and every shortcut the cabby could think of) later, the cab pulled up in front of the City’s finest, four-star hotel. Elaborate works in marble, iron, and exotic woods decorated the front of the building, and set the hotel well apart from its neighbors. A uniformed doorman stepped forward and opened her door for her, and before getting out she handed the cabbie his fare plus five bucks, and allowed the doorman to help her out. She made a beeline for the front desk, inquired about her room key, and after a minimal delay, was on her way to the second floor via the main elevator.
The elevator door opened on a spacious landing decorated with fine carpeting, and select pieces of highly polished antique furniture. Probably French, she thought absently. An artistic array of track lighting had been designed to relax those that stood there, and give them the sense of luxurious pampering the hotel was known for. She barely noticed it as she turned right and searched the doors for the gold numbers of her room. It was at the end of the hall, and once at the door, she stuffed the electronic key in the slot and burst into the room, ready to vent her pent up irritation and anger. She was completely unprepared for what she saw.
The room, already a masterpiece of luxury and elegance, had been transformed into an absolute dream. All the decorations were done in and ivory-colored satin, silk, and chiffon, from the window coverings to the bedcovers. The carpet was a deep, rich burgundy that set off the bedcovers and other decorations in grand fashion. The air was filled with a soft, warm glow from the dozens of candles that were lit all over the room, in candelabras and stands on nearly every table. In addition, vase after vase after vase of red, pink, and ivory roses were placed all over, covering all the remaining open spaces, and standing on the floor in the corners, around the bed, and along the base of the walls. She was momentarily stunned at the sight, and by the rich, warm scent of the roses that filled the room.
Her anger gave way to uncertainty, and suddenly unsure of herself, she closed and bolted the door behind her. As she walked into the dream before her, she noticed the card hanging from the ceiling and dangling in front of her at the end of a red silk ribbon. She reached out, removed the envelope, and opened the plain card inside.
I can only
assume that you came here angry, and I am sorry that we didn’t have the time to
come to a decent solution before you had to leave. But frankly I doubt that a peace could have been reached. Which is why you are here.
I have seen
the stress and strain taking its toll on you for the last several weeks, and I
have found myself helpless to help you, since you are so busy. Understand, I am not slighting you for the
work you do. That’s not my point. I am trying to tell you that you need
to take time for yourself and depressurize, before harm can come to those
things I know you hold dear.
Know
this: I love you, and it is because I
love you that I took the steps to ensure you would be here, to include the
re-scheduling of your lodging. Now that
you are here, I intend to further demonstrate my love for you, but I need your
help here at the first to make this possible.
My
instructions are simple. Put this card
down on the table in front of you and drink the glass of champagne I have
poured for you. Push from your mind all
those things that have kept you tense and stressed. Anger, pressure, and deadlines – they have no meaning here. Focus only on the evening, and what I have
to give you. Then put the glass down, and turn around. And remember that this I do out of love for
the only woman with the ability to complete and enrich me so perfectly. You.
Love,
Me
She re-read the note twice, and then looked up, noticing the wine bucket for the first time, and the tall-stemmed glass of sparkling gold liquid next to it. With some trepidation, she stepped forward and set the card down next to the bucket holding the chilled black bottle, and picked up the cool glass. She took a sip and let the wondrous flavor of the champagne spread over her tongue. Another sip, and she closed her eyes, and though still somewhat reluctant, she willed herself to let her remaining anger and frustration she had been holding slide off her shoulders. With an appreciative sigh, she tilted the glass up and drained it before setting it down again. She paused, not certain what would happen next, almost afraid to look, feeling a little guilty for acting as she had, now that she’d had a moment to think about it. Steeling herself against the unknown, she lowered her eyes and slowly turned around.
He looked like something from the Renaissance, and she found herself unable to take her eyes off of him. Looking at him she knew immediately that this was the same man she had married, but there was something else, something new and exciting about him. Starting at his feet, her eyes traveled over the familiar form of his body. He was wearing black knee-high boots with a wide cuff at the top. These had been polished to a high shine. Tucked into these were black leggings of what looked like velvet, and they clung to his muscled legs like a shimmering, soft, second skin. A black belt adorned only with a silver buckle cinched his trim waist and set off the shirt and vest combination he wore. The white poets shirt had large ruffles at the front and on the sleeves, and the neck was closed, with a black velvet cravat to set off the vest. The vest was a deep red, highlighted with subtle gold patterns woven into the fabric, and the cut was such that it set off his wide shoulders, and gave his already trim midsection an even narrower look. A cross between a swashbuckling pirate and a court gentleman. Something stirred inside her as she gazed upon this man, largely due to the gaze that he cast at her. Those eyes! Those gorgeous, captivating, sexy, bedroom eyes! The eyes that held her immobile as he walked, no, glided toward her. She felt her heart begin to pound n her chest at the thought of this man touching her, even standing near her. Then he was close enough that she could smell his cologne, its musky/spicy scent only adding to the arousal she was beginning to feel. She opened her mouth to speak to him but he quickly put a finger over his mouth, signaling her to remain silent. Then he was there, close enough to touch, pulling a length of ivory satin cloth from where it had been draped across his shoulders, and moved behind her. Then he spoke quietly in her ear.
“This night I give to you, out of my love for you, and because I wish to do this for you. Don’t try to help me, and don’t speak. Just let what happens, happen. Let yourself go, don’t hold yourself back. The entire purpose of this occasion is to let you let it all out, be the woman you want to be. The woman I know is within you. The woman I fell in love with. Full of passion, love, and beauty. The woman I love tonight, and always. The woman I have missed very much.
He placed his hands lightly upon her shoulders. “Do you accept my gift?” She nodded slowly. “Very well. Remain still, and let me do everything. Close your eyes.”
She closed her eyes, and he placed the length of satin cloth over them, and tied it snugly, though not uncomfortably, behind her head. The blindfold cut off all sight, but was very soft, and felt wonderful against her skin. She found her other senses slowly becoming stronger now that her ability to see had been removed.
She sensed rather than felt his movement. She felt a light tugging at her left ear as first one earring and then the other was removed, and it was done without him touching her. The buttons on her blouse were next, each one coming open, seemingly by themselves, since he still did not touch her directly. The hook and zipper were somehow handled and her skirt slipped down to pool at her feet, followed by her slip. Then her blouse was pulled gently from her shoulders and allowed to fall to the floor as well. She stood now in her bra, garter belt, panties and stockings, waiting, reaching out with her being, trying to sense where he would touch her, and when. The quest was answered when the front garter on her left stocking was gently pulled and released. How does he do it? How does he get them off without touching me? Her breathing quickened from the sensation. It was like being undressed by a ghost! She found the thought kind of erotic. She realized her body was responding, and felt herself becoming moist.
The remaining garters followed the first, and amazingly, the stockings were removed with the same maddening lack of contact as everything else. In moments, she was standing completely bare, and had been rendered so without the contact she typically associated with such a feat. She was becoming truly excited now, and felt the moist warmth of her sex, as well as the hardening of her nipples. She wanted desperately to touch herself, but she’d promised.
“Hold out your hand,” he instructed quietly. She stretched her left hand out and he took it by the fingers and pulled, leading her somewhere. She stepped out of her shoes and followed his lead. She felt the air grow warmer, and felt an increase in the air’s moisture, and assumed he had led her into the bathroom. He stopped.
“Okay, now you’ll have to step up a bit, and then step down. Go slowly and let me help you - don't rush it. We have all the time we need.” He helped her, and she felt herself stepping down into some very hot water. She started to back out, but she adapted to it , and allowed herself to be guided until she slid slowly down into the hot, relaxing, scented water. A towel was placed under her neck and she leaned back to enjoy the soothing warmth of the bath. The blindfold was not removed.
“ Just relax for a while and soak. Don’t wash yourself, don’t scrub your hair, just let yourself relax, and let the water do its work.”
She was left alone for an indeterminate time, and she found herself thinking about the last several months and how busy she had been. He’s right. He’s absolutely right. I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to think about, much less do anything with, the family, the house. And for what? A project that wouldn’t be the least bit affected if it took a couple of weeks longer? A couple more weeks would allow me to spend time with the ones I love, and still allow me to get my job done. What the hell was I thinking? How could I have been so stupid? To think she had been angry with this man, her husband who had tried to get her to see what was happening. Everything he’s done he’s done because he loves me, and I was too busy and preoccupied to see it. I let my work, my project get in the one thing that really mattered. How could I do that to the man I married, the man I love? She started. I do love him, and he loves me. It startled her to think she had questioned it, or perhaps taken it for granted. Her mind went back to the times before, while they courted, the fun things they did, the quiet times, even the occasional fights; of those things that he did for her that led her to fall in love with, and then marry him; of the way he could look at her that made her melt inside; of all the things that she treasured, and the way he made her feel loved, special, and complete. At that moment the resolved that he would know that she knew how much he loved her, and how much she loved him. Immediately she felt a weight lift from her shoulders, the project drifted from her thoughts, and she let her mind float free as the heat of the water began to do its work. Her muscles relaxed, the tightness in her shoulders lessened, and she found herself dozing.
He came in then, and set something on the edge of the tub. He gently placed his hand behind her head, and helped her to sit up. Time seemed to stand still for her as he filled a soft sponge with a moisturizing liquid soap, and proceeded to bathe her. The sponge traversed every square inch of her body, from the tips of her toes, to the crown of her head. She couldn’t remember anything feeling so intimate, or so erotic. His touch was delicate, filled with tenderness that spoke clearly of the love he felt for her and how special she was to him. The realization again hit her, and she felt a stirring within her, an awakening of sexual arousal that gradually filled her with a warmth that she was sure made her glow. She couldn’t remember ever feeling more at peace, more alive, or more loved than she did right now, and made a promise to herself that she would do everything she could to return the love he was giving her now. A sigh of arousal, and a soft moan of deep satisfaction escaped from her throat, and she gave herself over to the warm and soft caress of his hands on her body and the scented kiss of the soapy lather they left in their wake. For the first time in a long while, she felt truly happy and at peace with herself. She smiled, and let her head fall forward as he set down the sponge and, using a container he’d brought in and scooping from the water in the tub, he poured water over her, sluicing the soap from her body, paying special attention to her head, which he thoroughly drenched.
The blindfold was removed with instructions to keep her eyes closed, and he proceeded to wash and condition her hair. She smelled the familiar scent of her favorite shampoo, and felt admiration at the thoroughness of his preparations. He took special care to scrub and massage her scalp, which brought from her quiet moans of pleasure and total relaxation. Then he rinsed her hair in the same manner as he had the soap, and laid her back down again to allow her to soak a while longer, while he left the room.
When he returned, he reminded her to keep her eyes closed, helped her from the tub, and lovingly dried her with a large soft towel. When she was dry, he took a new towel, wrapped it around her, and helped her to sit in a padded chair. Then, using a blower, he proceeded to thoroughly dry her hair, and then spent uncounted, delicious minutes brushing her hair to a soft glow. He’d always loved her hair, especially now that she had allowed it to grow until it fell in soft waves below her shoulders, and he took special pleasure in letting it run through his fingers. Then he stood her up, removed the towel, and led her out of the bathroom. The rich scent of the roses filled her nostrils, and from behind her closed eyes, she could almost see the soft, warm glow of the candles.
He led her to the middle of the room, where he had her kneel on another of the large towels. Then, taking special care not to mess her hair, he tied a new length of silk over her eyes, and leaned over to whisper in her ear.
“You are the image of absolute beauty, and I love you,” he said kissing her shoulder, “but my gift is not finished yet, so I need you to lie down, on your stomach, and let me continue.”
She followed his instructions and stretched herself out on the towel. Then she felt his strong hands on her shoulders, and smelled the warm oil, as he began to knead the remaining tension and stress from her body. She lost all track of time as, for the next indeterminate time he rubbed, kneaded, rolled, grazed and smoothed the last vestiges of strain from her body. She had never experienced a more thorough and enjoyable all-over body massage as the one she was receiving at the hands of her husband, her lover, in this room that was more than a room, a room that was a world of its own, away from the pressures and realities of the outside, a place made up entirely of the love and intimacy shared between two people. As her husband’s hands smoothed the last of her tension out, she felt her very being go, and a deep and satisfying peace fill her with such perfection and totality that only God Himself could have improved on it. She felt like purring as he finished and left her to bask in the afterglow of the massage while he picked up the oil and towels from the floor around her.
Then he returned and picked up her relaxed, lightly oiled body from the floor and carried it to the huge oak four-poster bed that dominated the center of the room. He took care to place her in the middle of the bed, with her head on a large satin-covered pillow, on top of the satin sheets that covered the mattress. She felt the brush of silk on her left ankle, and then a gentle tug as her leg was pulled toward the lower corner of the bed. The sensation was repeated on her right ankle, and the tug was toward the other corner. Her wrists were next, and in a flash she realized that he was using additional lengths of the same silk material she was blindfolded with, to tie her in a snug spread-eagle to the four corners of the large bed. She pulled on her bonds and found that they offered very little give, and she sighed as a wave of deep arousal rolled over her from deep inside. She’d always dreamed of being held captive by her lover, to be unable to stop him from doing whatever he wished to her body, to be kissed and teased to the brink of climax again and again and denied release, to give herself utterly to him in the ultimate symbol of trust. She pulled against the ties that held her and felt her pulse quicken as the mattress sank next to her and he spoke.
“I found your diary the other day, while I was working off some of my frustration at our fight and what was happening to us.” He chuckled. “By the way, you really should’ve found a better place than your lingerie drawer to hide it.”
My diary! He read my diary! Her heart missed a beat as she realized, to her horror, that all of her fantasies, many of them even more adventurous than this, and all of which had been painstakingly written down in her diary, were now known to him. She’d always wanted to tell him, to share with him those things she dreamed of, but she’d kept them to herself fearing that he would think her a freak or a pervert. But now they were out in the open. She opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her with a finger over her lips.
“Shhhhh. I know I shouldn’t have read it.” She wanted to crawl into a hole and die. “But looking at it now, it’s a good thing I did. I’ve been pulling my hair out, trying to find a way to reach you, to make you aware of what was happening. We hardly ever talked anymore, and when we did, it always turned back to the project. Now don’t get me wrong, I have no complaints about your involvement, or with the work you do. But I saw what was happening; saw the stress that was weighing you down, and the pressure that was beginning to mount. Our argument this morning is a good example, and that’s not the first time. I was angry with myself for not finding a way to solve the problem. And truth be told, I was perhaps a bit jealous of the project and it’s monopolization of your time. I wanted my wife back!” This last was spoken vehemently, and she began to sense the depth of his frustration at his inability to change what was going on.
“Then, yesterday, after you left for the Center, I threw something of a tantrum in our bedroom, and pulled all of the drawers out of the dresser and dumped them on the floor.” He chuckled again. “Made a hell of a mess. That’s when I found your diary. I was shocked at first, because I’d never seen this side of you. You really should have told me - we share a great many interests. Anyway, I sat there reading, and realized a way to not only get through to you, but to further show my love for you, and to show you that you can share anything you want with me. So here we are. What it boils down to is this: we are a team, you and I, and as a team, we need to take the time to talk things out, and not let the world overwhelm us. And we need to work together in all things. Even in helping each other live out a fantasy every so often. So what do you say - do we have a deal?”
“Deal,” she said quietly, smiling, her voice sounding strange after not speaking for so long.
“Good. Now, in following the elements in your fantasy, I need you to open your mouth.” She did, and he gently pushed in a large round bath sponge, ensuring it went in behind her teeth. He had pre-moistened it to keep her mouth from going dry, and he secured it by tying another length of silk cloth between her teeth, followed by a second which he wrapped several times over her mouth and around her head, before tying it off at the back of he neck. She chewed on it a moment and then allowed herself to give in to her arousal. The experience of being with her husband in such a fashion had awakened new levels of passion within her. The realization of one of her fantasies, and the prospect of many more to come, added to the bath, the massage, the intimacy, the love, and now the knowledge that she was his to toy with in any way he chose, to tease as long as he wished, and that she was powerless to stop him, even if she wished to, made her feel randy, and more aroused than she could ever remember.
Just when she thought she couldn’t be more excited, she felt his lips on her foot. And then her shin. Her knee. Working with infinite slowness, he worked his way up first one leg, and then the other, kissing licking, and nibbling as he went. Then, as he was about to kiss her in the most intimate of places, he moved his attentions to her arms, then her shoulders, neck. She moaned into her gag, urging him to hurry and touch her, touch her now! He took his time instead, drawing out her passion, raising her arousal until it became a fire within her. His lips closed around her left nipple and sucked, as his teeth nipped at it gently. Her cry of pleasure was muffled by the sponge. His hand caressed her right breast and he rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The intensity increased until she was thrashing in her bonds and moaning deeply into the gag. He’d then pull away and tease her by touching her under the arm, and then nothing , and then his lips on her stomach, his tongue tracing patterns around her belly button before thrusting in and then pulling away. Her body felt like it was on fire, alive with pent passion, under pressure, and ready to explode. Then his lips were there! They closed on her sex and locked there, his tongue diving deep inside and then pulling back to graze her engorged clitoris in a darting flickering movement that triggered the explosion that had been building.
In a heartbeat her body became pure energy. It felt as if a charge of raw electricity arced between them and ignited a climax more intense that anything she’d ever felt or imagined. The bed creaked as the slack disappeared from her bonds. Her body went taut, her head went back against the pillow and her back arched as wave after wave of stored pleasure crashed over her, pushing cries of ecstasy from her throat to be swallowed up by the sponge. She came like she had never come before, and the experience left her gasping, stunned, and exhausted.
Out of love and joy, she said his name over and over in her mind, as the aftershocks of the climax continued to wash over her. The deep satisfaction she felt, and his gentle caresses over her body made her skin tingle. She couldn’t remember ever feeling so happy, so fulfilled, so loved. She let herself relax as her breathing slowed, and her pulse became more normal. Then his caresses moved, centering on her upper thighs, and bringing a renewal of her arousal. She smelled his cologne close to her, and felt his warm breath on her neck as he spoke softly in her ear.
“Don’t rest too hard, my captive bride. That was the first of at least five orgasms you will experience before I release you. The evening is still young, and my gift is far from complete.”
Five orgasms! Her mind reeled in surprise and anticipation. She wondered if she had it in her to last that long. Then as she felt the weight of his body press down on the mattress between her legs, and felt his naked legs against the inside of her thighs and his rigid manhood press ever so gently at the entrance of her sex, she knew that she did. As he slowly entered her in the opening movements of what she knew from experience would be a masterful manipulation of her body and senses, and end in an earth-shattering climax, she knew that by, and with his love, she had it in her to last as long as she - no they - needed. The man who was her lover, her husband, and tonight, her Master, deserved no less.