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“No.”
I pretended to pout and he pulled me toward him, grabbing my ass hard, and looked down into my eyes. “That was foreplay, babe.” He kissed me urgently and my knees buckled. I grasped his shoulders for support.
“You’ll do things to me...things like that?” I whispered as he broke away and tugged me toward his car.
He only smiled and opened the passenger door. “Get in. We’re going to my place.”
DARKNESS AND LIGHT
Sophia Valenti
Dana couldn’t understand why I’d dumped Roger. The breakup had happened last month, but she still couldn’t let it go.
“He’s the perfect guy!” she exclaimed. “The total package.”
I wasn’t going to try to explain myself—again. But for some reason, that most likely being the tequila, I started to speak.
“That all depends on what your idea of the total package is.” Dana cocked her head, looking a little drunk and a lot confused. “Sure, he was handsome and sweet—”
“And what’s wrong with that!”
“He was too...nice.” The word hung in the air, only adding to her confusion. But I wasn’t referring to the fact that Roger always held the door and paid for dinner. I was talking about the polite missionary-position sex he favored, and that I did not.
I looked at my friend, who was the epitome of vanilla. Sure, she and I had dished about our dates, but always in the most general terms, like if a guy was good in bed. We’d never defined “good,” but I knew what my version of good meant: someone who was very, very bad—a guy who’d take me to dark, sexy places where I could leave every earthly care behind. Once upon a time, I’d hoped that would be Roger, but I learned soon enough that wasn’t the case.
One night, after he’d asked what he could do for me in bed, I’d suggested that we try something more daring. He looked as confused as Dana did now, and when I started to talk about handcuffs and blindfolds, he shut me down. We weren’t the type of people who did those things, he told me. I stopped speaking; there was nothing left to say. Because deep down I knew I was one of those people, and he clearly was not.
That was the beginning of the end.
The end of the end came after my first night with Graham, a man who was as affectionate as I could have ever hoped for, yet was as intensely dominant as I craved. I was never one to dream of white knights. The dark ones were the only sort that had ever invaded my fantasies, and Graham fit that description to a T.
I realized that Dana was still staring at me, her big blue eyes searching for an answer.
“I just liked things that Roger didn’t,” I offered as an explanation, hoping that would be enough to satisfy her, but it wasn’t.
“Like what?”
Figuring she was too drunk to judge—and probably too drunk to remember what I’d say—I didn’t hold back.
“Like being bound and blindfolded.” I felt my cheeks go hot.
Fortunately, Dana seemed more confused than offended. “I don’t know why anyone would want to be blindfolded,” she said with a shake of her head, making her blonde curls bounce around her face. “I mean, when it’s dark, all you see is nothing!”
Nothing? I opened my mouth to answer, but I stopped myself. I knew she’d never understand, and in an instant, my mind drifted back to that night with Graham—the night that changed everything.
I work in public relations, and while many of my fellow journalism school graduates scoff at the notion, I love it. I like meeting new people, making connections and spreading the word about people and things I’m passionate about. The agency had been pretty traditional, however, and the owner recently decided we needed to move into the twenty-first century. While we had a fabulous client list, we were quaint and old-fashioned in that we were neglecting the potential of social media, which is why my boss hired Graham as a consultant.
I was looking forward to hearing what advice he had for us, but my expectations ended there. I will admit that I had a preconceived notion of who would show up at my office. I was expecting a scruffy twentysomething who was fresh out of college. Graham was nothing of the sort, but there was indeed much he had to teach me.
Tall and broad, Graham looked stunning in his exquisitely tailored suit. With his dark eyes and wavy black hair, he looked more like an action-movie hero than an executive. During our first meeting, he laid out his roadmap for implementing social-media strategies, and I was impressed with his thorough proposal and sensible advice. He was charismatic and personable, his take-charge nature buoyed by his confidence and intelligence. I felt drawn to him in a way I’d never before been to another man.
Graham and I worked together closely over the next two weeks, and while the days flew by, my nights were slow to pass. I’d lie wide-awake on the pristine white cotton sheets that Roger favored as my mind wandered into dangerous territory. I’d recall Graham’s muscular body, so temptingly close to mine as he stood behind me and leaned over my shoulder to point out something on my computer screen. The way his deep brown eyes would linger on me a second too long made me wonder if he was having the same late-night fantasies that I was—ones that involved Graham taking control of me, and delivering whatever pleasure or pain he thought I deserved. I pictured him using his colorful silk neckties to bind me facedown on his bed, pulling his thick leather belt out of its loops, and making me beg to be punished.
I wanted it—I wanted it all. To be bound and blindfolded and whipped until I came. I was scared and nervous, and incredibly aroused. Just thinking about it was enough to make my pussy flood. I also felt guilty, like I’d somehow cheated on Roger when all I’d done was let my sleep-deprived mind run free. But not so guilty that I didn’t reach a hand inside my panties, find the swollen knob of my clit and rub myself until I climaxed, all the while thinking of Graham.
I tried to tell myself that these were just crazy dreams, that I was merely inserting Graham into these scenarios because he and I were spending so much time together. But they weren’t dreams, and I wasn’t asleep—though I realized I’d been going through the motions in my daily life as though I were. There had to be more, and that didn’t involve settling for someone who couldn’t accept me for who I was.
As the days had passed, the easygoing rapport I had with Graham had been edging ever closer to outright flirtation. I found myself admiring his fit figure, my mind tumbling into intermittent fantasies about him pressing me up against a wall and having his way with me. When I thought he wasn’t looking, I’d let my gaze drop to the leather belt at his waist. It looked thick and supple, and to anyone else it was simply a fashion accessory. But thanks to my filthy dreams, it was so much more.
