Anne Brooke Taking A Chance

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WILDE CITY PRESS

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Taking A Chance © 2013 Anne Brooke Published in the US and
Australia by Wilde City Press 2013

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Published by Wilde City Press

ISBN: 978-1-925031-52-2

Cover Art © 2013 Wilde City Press

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TAKING A CHANCE

Anne Brooke

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The first thing I saw when I walked by Tortellini’s that Friday night was
the hottest looking man I’d come across in a long while. He was in his
early forties, in my opinion, medium height, dark hair tending to grey at
the edges, and a stocky build. Okay, it doesn’t sound particularly
inspiring when said like this, and he wasn’t too different from me, apart
from the fact I was blond, maybe slightly leaner and ten years younger.
However, there was something about his eyes, which made me look and
look again. Something enticing. He was dressed in a smart dark green
jacket with contrasting trousers, and when he saw me stopping, he
smiled and walked towards me, stretching out his hand.

“Hello. Are you Timothy?”

I wasn’t, but I thought: what the heck. Unlucky Timothy and lucky me. So,
heart beating fast, I took his hand, and smiled. “Yes, that’s right. Pleased
to meet you.”

“Likewise. I’m David. But you already know that.

Shall we go in?”

“Sounds good, thanks.” And then, chancing it, “How did you know it was
me?”

“I guessed,” he said. “You were my second attempt.”

I laughed and felt my shoulders relax. Maybe this was going to be easier
than I’d imagined. He obviously didn’t have a clue, and who knows
where it might lead?

The evening I’d imagined would be fairly dull suddenly glittered with
possibilities.

In the restaurant, the maitre d’ took our jackets and led us to the table
David must have already booked. I thought we’d have time to settle in,
and I might have time to work out what this Timothy might be like, so I
was unprepared for his next conversation starter.

“There are a few things you should know before we order,” he said

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when we were alone. “It’ll give you time to decide whether you wish to
spend the rest of the evening with me or not.”

I nodded. It wasn’t the first thing I’d say to a new date, but at least he
was being upfront. Part of the issue with my previous boyfriend had been
the surprises he’d sprung on me, sometimes at the very last minute. I’d
grown to dread them.

David smiled.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said. “Here, at the table.

Just lightly, but I’m not ashamed of who and what I am, and I see no
reason why those I’m with should be ashamed either. Later, when we’ve
left the restaurant, I plan to touch your cock, to look at it and hold it.
Then, we’ll go to my home, have a drink, and decide between us how we
should complete our time together tonight.”

I blinked. Goodness, I thought, whoever he was, he was bold. Did
Timothy know? Just as David finished speaking, the waiter arrived for
our drink order, but I was too bamboozled to have made up my mind
about drinks, let alone anything else. David must have picked up on my
confusion as he waved him away.

“Give us a few moments, would you? Thank you.”

After the waiter’s departure, I could hear the hushed murmur of voices
from the tables nearby, together with faint background music. I licked my
lips. “You don’t waste time, do you?”

“No. I don’t. But I thought, as it’s the first time we’ve met face-to-face, I
should be honest with you. You have a very beautiful mouth, and I’d like
to kiss it. And I’d like to see your cock—I’d be a liar if I pretended
otherwise. Men’s cocks can be very beautiful too.”

Yes, they could. That was true. It was just I’d never come across anyone
who mentioned it quite so early in any first encounter. At the same time, I
felt heat fire my face at his comment about my mouth. I hadn’t previously
counted it as one of my key features, and Peter, the ex, had never
mentioned it. But what had he ever known about me? Precisely nothing,
as it had turned out.

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David leaned towards me and whispered, “You’re also very attractive
when you blush. You should make up your mind soon, Timothy, as I
don’t think the waiter will be very long in returning.”

Somehow, I tore my gaze away from his, though the act was tricky.
Maybe he was too direct. He’d probably be demanding when it came to
sex as well. I needed someone more subtle, someone more like me. That
would be the sensible option. I should give him a polite refusal, maybe
admit I wasn’t Timothy anyway, thank him for his time and leave as
quickly as possible.

Decision made, I glanced up at him and found myself wondering exactly
how his lips would feel on mine. At the corner of my eye, I caught the
shadow of the waiter moving in.

“Yes,” I said, voice rather higher-pitched than I’d intended. I coughed. “I
mean, yes, I’d like that. Thank you.”

“Oh good,” he said and kissed me.

I wasn’t expecting him to do it right there and then, so I froze for a
moment before opening my lips to his. He didn’t take advantage. He kept
it light, as he’d promised, with not even a hint of tongue. His mouth felt
soft and warm, and I swore for a beat of my heart everything around me
became utterly silent. No noise from the kitchen, no murmurs from the
occupied tables around us, no clink of glasses or clatter of plates.

Then the rustle of paper as the wine waiter unfolded his notebook and
we broke apart. David blinked and cleared his throat.

“I’ll have a glass of the Pinot,” he said. “A large one.

What would you like, Timothy?”

I ordered a pint of their best lager and congratulated myself for not
stammering once. I could still feel the imprint of his lips on mine as if
he’d branded himself there. The waiter left with our orders, and I took
the opportunity to glance at the other tables to see if anyone appeared
uncomfortable with what we’d done.

Everything seemed normal. It didn’t look as if we were going to receive

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any complaints any time soon, but then again why should we? This was
the twenty-first century, not the seventeenth.

David laughed, and my attention jumped back to him.

“I can’t believe I did that,” he said. “Honestly, I’m not usually that
pushy. I’m surprised you haven’t kicked me into touch, but I’m glad you
haven’t. I’m sorry.”

“Okay. And no problem, it was fine.”

The conversation moved on as we ate. He asked me about my work as a
freelance accountant, which was a lucky break as it explained what
Timothy’s job was. I gave an inspired spiel about the ups and downs of
the accountancy business, which even I admired as I was actually a
model and bit-part actor. I told him January was always the busiest
month, with the deadline for tax returns, so I was glad February was here
and, with it, the chance to take stock. By the time I’d finished, I almost
believed myself.

In turn, David told me about his art supplies shop in town, and the new
one he’d apparently opened just over the county border before
Christmas.

“It was an opportunity to expand,” he said. “I’ve been looking for the
right premises for about eighteen months and didn’t want to let the
opportunity pass me by. It’ll take a while to build the business up, and
it’s certainly a change having two shops instead of one, but you’ve got to
take a chance sometimes, haven’t you?”

Oh yes, indeed you did. I nodded, unable to do anything else other than
agree. I was certainly taking a chance on being here, but when I’d
spotted him outside the restaurant, something inside me had clicked into
place and I couldn’t have let the opportunity pass.

After the meal, we left the restaurant together, and I wondered what
would happen now. Luckily, I didn’t have to think too long.

“Have you parked in a car park?”

“No,” I said. “I came by taxi.”

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“Good. Then come home with me,” he said. “If you’d like to.”

I thought I’d say no, but I nodded instead. Tonight was not turning out the
way I’d expected, though I wasn’t sure what that was anyway.

We turned down a side street in order to get to his car. The pavement
was empty, and the glitter from the streetlamps made everything seem
yellow. The pulse in my throat was jumping at the thought of David
taking my cock out in the warmth of his car, as he’d promised.

It was surely only words, but I felt like a slut just imagining it. I’d never
got my prick out in public before.

I wasn’t that kind of a man. Was I?

Halfway down the street, David swung towards me and pushed me
against the wall, his body both trapping and shielding me. The lights
emphasised the grey streaks in his hair, and without thinking, I lifted up
my hand to touch it. He smiled, let me run my fingers once through before
seizing my wrist and bringing it down to my side again.

“Did you like that?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Your hair feels nice. I like the way you don’t dye it.”

I had no idea what he was going to do, but being this close to his body
made my cock stiffen. At the same time, I felt strangely relaxed, almost
happy.

He nodded, as if I’d said something intelligent, though I hadn’t really.
“You’ll need both your hands, as I want you to get your cock out now,
please.”

Jesus. Now? Not even the relative safety of a car and its steamed-up
windows. I gazed at him, searching for the joke but seeing in his eyes
how serious he was. God.

I’d never taken part in outdoor sex before. What would Timothy do?
Probably that very thing, if the bugger hadn’t just got unlucky at the last
moment. Oh well. I didn’t know how I felt about it, so quickly glanced to
left and right to see if anyone was watching us. David’s hand touched my

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chin and drew me back to look straight at him again.

“I’m not asking anyone else around here,” he said. “I don’t want to see
their cocks. I want to see yours.”

“What if someone notices us?” I asked him.

He smiled. “If they do, they’ll understand we’re doing something private
and leave us alone. Besides, there isn’t anyone else. It’s not closing time
yet.”

This was true. Oh hell. I should leave right now.

Shouldn’t I?

His hand caressed my chin where he still held me in place, and the tip of
his thumb slid across my lips. On impulse and casting at least a hundred
valuable UK laws to the four winds, I opened my mouth and sucked him
in.

His skin tasted of salt. He let me do this for a couple of minutes before
gently removing his thumb.

Then he waited. I knew he was waiting for me to decide. He waited as if
he had all the time in the world, and maybe he did. Very slowly, my
hands drifted to my zipper, almost as if they were acting from their own
volition.

I eased down my zip, taking each small tooth as if it was a small step for
myself, out of a cave where I hadn’t even known I’d been hiding. I was
trembling, and my eyes were fixed on his. I couldn’t look away. My cock
thrust itself against my briefs as the zip reached its full destination.

David leaned towards me, his hands now on both side of my shoulders,
shielding me. Keeping me safe.

Unable to bear the tension, I half laughed, but he hushed me at once,
calming me down again.

“Keep going,” he whispered. “Please. You’re doing a great job.”

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I nodded, though I couldn’t speak. I took a deep breath and reached
inside my briefs. The coolness of my own fingers against the heat of my
prick made me gasp again, but I took it out, already hardening as I
manhandled myself free.

“Thank you,” David whispered, his breath a warm reassurance on my
face. He gazed down at me. “I knew your cock would be beautiful. As
beautiful as your mouth. I’m glad I was right.”

He took my cock from me, unfolding my fingers and easing my hands
away. I pressed them against the wall behind for support and, at the same
time, leaned my head backwards until I felt the brick press into my hair.
If I hadn’t done it, I swear I would have fallen to the ground.

The only place where David and I were touching each other was his
hands around me. For a few moments, he simply held me there, and then
he began to rub me up and down. Not quickly, not enough to bring me off,
but as if he was understanding my shape and committing it to memory.

Then he looked up at me again, leant forward and licked the front of my
neck from the base of my throat and up over my Adam’s apple. I
groaned.

“You feel good, and you taste good,” he said. “I knew you would. I think
you should put yourself away now, Timothy, before anyone sees us and
we can go home and talk with each other, if you’d like that.”

Timothy be damned. There was no question but I did like that.

The drive wasn’t long. He lived in a village nearby.

As he drove, neither of us talked, but when he was able to, he rested his
hand on my knee so I could feel the warmth of his fingers through the thin
cotton. Each time he did it, my prick stiffened and I wondered how the
evening would end. Instead of dealing with the issue or wondering how I
was going to catch a train home or if I even wanted to, I gazed outside
the window. It was dark, but I could still see the deeper shadows of
hedges and a hint of fields.

I hadn’t realised quite how far into the countryside David lived. Maybe
I’d need to get a taxi rather than a train. He’d said we were going to talk,

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which was fine with me, though I hoped with all the lies I’d been telling,
I’d at least get some good sex out of my deceit. That would certainly be
nice.

After a few moments, David turned into his driveway and switched the
engine off. Before getting out, he took hold of my hand.

“You don’t have to worry,” he said. “Just because you’re here doesn’t
mean there’s any obligation to have sex. Of course, I’d love to, but all
we need do is talk.”

“Okay,” I nodded, hoping my disappointment didn’t completely
overpower my voice.

David lived in a detached house with an apple tree in the front garden
and a small porch hardly large enough for the two of us to stand while he
opened the inner door.

He’d lined it with a pair of Wellington boots and a couple of pairs of
trainers. Signs of an outdoor life that somehow gave me confidence he,
like me, had another existence beyond tonight’s meeting, which was of
course far more unexpected than he realised. Seeing me smile, he
quirked one eyebrow but said nothing.

Inside, the hallway was clean and light, and smelt faintly of lemons. He
must have cleaned before he went out. Even though it wasn’t for me, it
made me feel wanted. David led me past the kitchen, the stairs, and then
into what had to be the living room. If it had been light enough to see, I
was sure the garden would have been beautiful. Right then, the French
doors showed me only darkness and the faint glimmer of the moon
behind distant trees.

“In summer, it’s very peaceful,” he said. “But it’s a cold room in winter,
even with the double glazing.

Coffee or something stronger?”

Coffee sounded good. I asked if he needed help, but he shook his head
and waved at the cream leather sofa. “I won’t be a minute.”

While he was making coffee, I sat down and gazed round his living

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room. It didn’t seem to be the kind of décor I’d have associated with a
man like David. A light wooden flooring, soft yellow walls, and a sense
of elegance and calm. Several large photographs of flowers hung on the
wall opposite the French doors, and when I gave them a closer look, I
realised each of them had been taken in a different season. In front of me,
on the coffee table, I saw a copy of The Winter Garden and flicked
through it for a while. David obviously spent a lot of time outside, and I
wondered if he’d taken the photographs on the walls.

In fact, I was so engrossed that the sound of his voice made me jump.

“It’s a great book,” he said with a smile. “I enjoy having as much colour
as possible through the year, and there are some useful ideas in there.”

I nodded, making room on the table for the tray he’d brought in. He’d
included a cafetiere, two Wedgwood cups, a plate of small savoury
biscuits, and what looked like home-made fudge. I said nothing while he
poured the coffee, but when he gave the cup to me, our hands touched
and I smiled.

“Thank you.”

David didn’t sit next to me, as I’d half expected, but on one of the
remaining easy chairs so we were at an angle to each other. I relaxed
back on the sofa, stretched out my legs and waited for him to begin the
conversation. The coffee was as pungent as sin. As if for the first time in
a very long time, I remembered that was how I liked it.

He didn’t take long to start talking. “What’s your safe word, Timothy?”

I gulped my first mouthful of coffee and tried not to choke. Safe word?
Just what the hell was going on now, and what were Timothy and I
getting ourselves into?

“Um, my safe word?”

“Yes, your safe word. I need to know what it is.”

I was sure he did, and frankly, so did I. I licked my lips, put down my
cup and my eyes flicked away from him for a moment or two. The
seconds ticked by, and I decided to go for some kind of honesty.

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“I don’t know,” I said at last. “I’m not really very experienced with this,
if I’m being truthful. I’m sorry if I implied something else before.
Anyway, aren’t safe words just for people who go to clubs and places
like that? We don’t need them here, do we?”

He frowned.

“Safe words are for everyone,” he said. “You might not ever need to use
them, but the option is there if you need it. That’s what safe BDSM play
is all about.”

BDSM play? It wasn’t something I’d ever been involved in, though in the
spirit of truthfulness, it had crossed my mind once or twice in the past. In
my younger days. Oh God, my head shouted at me, best get out while you
can, while my prick said something else entirely. I crossed my legs and
willed it to calm down.

“Oh. I didn’t know.”

He shut his lips together as if he wanted to say more but thought it best
not to. I ran one hand through my hair and began to fidget as I spoke
again.

“Look, it’s fine if I’m just too inexperienced for you.

Thanks for a great evening, but I can call a taxi and go home. Maybe it’s
been a mistake, and this is for the best.”

“Hey there.” David took hold of my shoulders and shook me gently.
“That’s not what I meant at all. I’m sorry I gave you that impression.
There’s nothing for you to be ashamed of. Do you understand?”

“I’m not ashamed, but okay. Forget it.”

He let me go, and at once, I missed his warmth. I dried my lips with the
back of my hand and stared round the room. At the pictures, the
television and the dark garden.

For a few moments, the chanting in my mind was only this: go, stay. Go,
stay. Go.

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Stay.

“So what sort of safe words do people choose?” I asked to stop the
internal see-saw getting out of hand. “Is there a rule?”

David shook his head. “No, it can be anything you like. Anything that
won’t come up naturally when you’re having an encounter with a dom.
It’s helpful to have a word that means something to you but doesn’t carry
too much baggage with it. That way, it’s not putting you in a more
difficult situation if you decide to use it.”

“Okay,” I said, though I wasn’t sure what a dom might be and thought
about it for a while. Once again, David seemed happy to wait. “And
what happens when or if I use it?”

“I stop immediately whatever it is we’re doing, and we discuss what
your thoughts and reactions are. Then, after discussion, we can either
carry on playing together in the same or a new way. Or we can stop
entirely. The choice is ours, both yours and mine.”

Even to a man stuck in a stranger’s house in a tangle of lies of his own
making, this seemed very sensible. It was then that, as it had earlier at
the restaurant, something clicked inside me. As if I’d been waiting for a
piece of a puzzle I hadn’t known existed and it had suddenly appeared
from an unexpected source.

“So. Right. If I decide a safe word now but I think it’s not the best choice
later, may I change it?”

David nodded. “Yes. You’d have to discuss it first, though, with
whichever dom you were with. We’re not mind-readers, not all the time
anyway. So you have to talk to us.”

I laughed. So David was a dom then. It was a clue.

The word sounded vaguely Catholic, but I was convinced I wasn’t
thinking along the right lines there. “Sure. In that case, my safe word is
Basingstoke.”

Basingstoke? Where on earth had that come from?

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The word had popped straight into my head as if it had been lurking in
the shadows for a lifetime and was only now being given the chance to
shine. I blinked.

David smiled, but not in mockery. “Hmm. Interesting choice. It’s
certainly not something anyone would say while in a scene, that’s for
sure. Did you used to live there?”

A scene? What was that when it was at home?

Whatever kind of sex we were going to have, I hadn’t counted on a stage
performance and an audience. I obviously had a lot to learn, and quickly.

“No,” I said, coughing to cover the hysteria rising in my throat. “I was
born in the town hospital. My family moved to Surrey when I was six
months old. Stayed here ever since.”

“You’re very lucky. My family moved round a great deal because of my
father being in the army. I always thought it would be wonderful to stay
in one place for more than a couple of years.”

“On the other hand, you do get a lot of experience in different
environments. And the army’s a good employer, isn’t it? What did your
father do, David?”

He sighed. “He was a sergeant. I think he was always disappointed I
didn’t follow in his footsteps, but I was never cut out to be in the
military. He died a couple of years ago.”

“I’m sorry. Mine died when I was quite young, but it’s difficult at any
age.”

He took a sip of his coffee. “Thank you. What did your father do?”

“He was an accountant, in public practice. I actually don’t remember
much about him.”

This was the truth, I was pleased to say, but by now, I didn’t want to
spend time talking about my family. As David nodded and seemed about
to say more, I cut in.

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“So, what do we do now?” I asked him, beyond curious to discover
more about the world of doms and scenes he’d mentioned. My slut levels
were certainly rising.

“Do?”

“Yes,” I ran one slightly shaking hand through my hair as I spoke, though
my voice was as firm as a house.

Bold too, I was proud to hear. “We’re together at your home. You’ve
kissed me and seen my cock so I suppose we ought to do something for
an encore.”

“All right,” he said with a slight smile. “Perhaps we should, but there’s
no rush, you know. Yes, I’d like to see your cock again tonight. That’s a
given, although you don’t have to agree to it. If you do, I’d like to see you
naked, stretched out across my bed. I’d also enjoy spanking you. Mainly
because you seem like a man who needs a strong hand and a frisson of
punishment. Before we get there, however, I think you should take your
clothes off, here and now in the living room. Because if anyone is crying
out to be seen in their natural state, it’s you. A man with a mouth and a
prick like yours shouldn’t have to wear clothes. So, please, take them
off, Timothy.”

I put down my coffee and glanced out into the garden. This was real and
much more than anything I’d imagined might happen, but then again, I’d
asked for it, hadn’t I? On the other hand, I had no idea who or what might
be out in the garden. The blinds weren’t drawn, so anyone could look in
if they wanted to and see everything.

The touch of David’s hand on mine brought my attention back to him.
“There’s nobody out there,” he said. “The neighbours don’t overlook me,
and my garden faces onto fields and a wood. That’s all. I wouldn’t put
you into any danger. I want to give you excitement, yes, but not danger.
Where would be the pleasure in that? I’m a dominant. I know what my
responsibilities should be.”

Ah, a dom was a dominant then. It made sense, especially as he’d just
mentioned spanking—which was another concept to ponder on, wasn’t
it? David was certainly in charge, though I liked to think I was giving
him a run for his money too.

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I withdrew my hand. “Will it just be me who takes his clothes off?”

“Yes,” he said. “For now.”

I licked my lips. The thought of being naked in this beautiful house made
my pants feel tight. I glanced again through the window, unsure whether
to trust David or not, but his hand on my chin brought me round to gaze at
him again.

“You’ve nothing to be ashamed of,” he whispered.

“You’ve already been brave enough and generous enough to show me
your cock. Letting me see the rest of your body is a much smaller step,
but rest assured.

You’re safe with me.”

For a moment more, I gazed at him, but then I nodded and he let me go.

“It’s very beautiful to watch you thinking things through and then
submitting to me,” he said. “It’s a very attractive quality. You’re a very
attractive man.”

I missed the warmth of his fingers on my skin, but I allowed the warmth
of his gaze to wrap round me instead as I stood up and undid the first of
the buttons on my shirt. Usually I undressed quickly before sex—if that
was going to happen tonight. David still hadn’t said. Getting naked as
fast as possible was what Peter had always liked, but I wanted to draw a
line between then and now.

To mark the difference, I took my time over every button and each tug of
the zip. David didn’t complain, and when I looked at him, he was
smiling. I shrugged off my shirt and caught it before it fell behind me,
folding it and placing it on the seat next to mine on the sofa. Then I
removed my shoes and socks. I half thought about taking off my trousers
and briefs right in front of David, giving him the chance to touch and
maybe even kiss me there, but it didn’t fit with what he’d asked me to do.
He’d made my obedience into a practical rather than an erotic act, and it
made me less nervous.

Finally, I sat down once more, the rest of my clothes removed and in a

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neat pile along with my shirt. The leather felt cool against my buttocks,
and my erect prick strained towards David, needing to be held again.

I thought it wouldn’t be long before he touched me, but I was wrong.
Instead, he smiled at me and took another sip of his coffee.

“When we chatted online, you said you didn’t wish to pursue any kind of
relationship, but you simply wanted to explore your submissive side in a
safe setting,”

he said. “If we both decide to explore this together, I’d find it helpful if I
knew what the reason behind that might be.”

Online. David and Timothy had met online. I’d thought as much. Still, it
was good to have it confirmed.

Timothy wanted to explore some kind of submission, did he? This made
sense if David was dominant. I wondered if it would make the same kind
of sense to me. Was I the submissive type? Could I be like Timothy? All
this rushed through my mind as I sat, utterly naked, on the sofa of a man
I’d only just met. Hell, the vibes I was giving out just now were as far
removed from dominant as I could get, and even I could see it.

So, as David waited—something I was beginning to acknowledge he
was highly skilled at—I drew in a sharp breath and thought about what I
should say. In the end, I decided to tell him the closest version of the
truth I could find.

“My last relationship finished about six months ago.

Some parts were good, but it ended badly. I need time to get over it, but I
miss the sex. That’s all, really.”

“Thank you, Timothy, but it’s not quite enough, is it?” David’s
unexpected response made my attention spring right back to him. “You
need to tell me a lot more.

What do you think is missing in your experience, however limited, of
being a submissive? Because you must have had some kind of dom/sub
encounters in the past, if you want to explore it more fully now. It would
be helpful for me to know.”

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Would it? We couldn’t just get to bed then and take things from there?
Obviously not. David was simply too determined to be helpful. Maybe
that was why Timothy had picked him. Shame I couldn’t ask the man who
was meant to be here about his dom/sub encounters, as it would save me
having to think up some of my own.

Still, I’d always had my fantasies to fall back on. I’d just have to make
something up and pretend it had been with the ex. I hoped one day Peter
would forgive me—if I ever spoke to the lying, cheating bastard again,
that is.

“It wasn’t much, honestly,” I began, taking a deep breath and plunging
bravely into utterly unknown— though not unimagined—territory. “Peter
and I had been going out for a while, and it had all been normal. The sex,
I mean, and everything else too, I suppose. Then one day, we were lying
in bed together, and he asked me if I wanted to do something else.
Something different. I didn’t know what he meant, but of course I said
yes.

Who wouldn’t?”

David nodded. “Go on.”

I swallowed once and then carried on. “He turned me over and straddled
my back. I thought he might be going to use a sex toy on me, which I
would have been keen to try out, but instead, he started to spank me.
Gently at first, just light slaps and then, after a while, harder and over
and over again. I don’t remember how many times he spanked me, but it
was great. I could have stayed like that forever, though I was desperate
for him to fuck me too. Then, finally, he had sex with me, and I swear to
you it was the best sex I’d ever had. I knew I wanted it like that again.
To find out more of what sort of man I really am.”

When I finished telling David all these fantastical lies, my lips were dry.
Stupidly, my cock was throbbing.

I hadn’t meant that to happen. Definitely not. Unsure what to do with
myself, I looked up and found David staring at my face. He was frowning
with a fierce concentration that made my heart beat faster.

“He didn’t tell you?” he asked. “What he was going to do?”

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I shook my head. “No. No reason why he should have, I suppose.”

David all but dropped the coffee cup he’d been holding and sprang to his
feet. I blinked, wondering just what the hell was going on, but he was
already talking.

“He should never have done that,” he said, fixing me with a fierce glare I
hoped wasn’t actually directed at me before beginning to pace up and
down the room. “It was stupid and dangerous not to let you know what
he was intending to do. God knows what might have happened.

He might have caused severe damage. That’s not how you deal with a
sub. In fact, it’s not how you deal with anyone.”

“Look,” I said, cutting into his diatribe before he could demand Peter’s
address and storm over there to confront him, God help us both. “What
happened was a surprise and startled me. But I enjoyed it. Honestly, I
did.

So could you sit down, please? You’re making me nervous.”

He stopped at once, gave me a searching glance and sat down. “I’m
sorry,” he said, more quietly. “It isn’t—or rather wasn’t—my battle to
fight, but whenever I’m dealing with a sub at any level, I like to know
how it’s going for them. And I like them to know what I’m planning too,
so they can agree to it, or not. I’m not psychic, after all.”

“Me neither,” I agreed. Though in actual fact, I supposed I was doing
pretty well on the psychic front by keeping up my cover so far.

He smiled.

“So I think we should play a scene together now,” he said. “Leading to
sex. If you’re willing?”

There it was again: that word scene. It must be what people like him
called a sexual encounter between a dominant and a submissive. Hell, I
was learning fast.

Funny though, when I caught his gaze, I had the distinct impression if I’d
asked to put my clothes back on and leave, David would have been

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disappointed, but he wouldn’t have forced me to stay.

“What sort of scene?” I asked him.

“Whatever we like. Right now, Timothy, what would you most love me
to do to you?”

A thousand acts of debauchery I would dearly love this man to do to me
flashed through my head. I would have made a note of them all if I’d had
the brainpower.

But when I opened my mouth, what came out was this: “Right now, I
want you to touch and stroke me,” I told him. “I want you to hold my
cock again. When you did it before, it was as if you were discovering
me. I liked that.”

Heck, David wasn’t the only one who could say what he wanted then. If
Timothy was here, I was sure he’d be proud.

“Of course.” David smiled, pushed the coffee table to one side and knelt
in front of me. “Open your legs, if you would.”

I obeyed. My heart took on a faster rate, and my cock became harder,
perking up from where I’d softened while David had been pacing, and
pointing eagerly towards him.

He ignored it, much to my disappointment. Instead, he leaned forward
and touched his lips gently to my right nipple. I gasped, wondering if
he’d take it between his teeth, but he didn’t do that either. He kept on
kissing me there, using only his mouth and his tongue. After a while, I
relaxed into my seat and closed my eyes. He murmured against my skin,
maybe with approval, but I couldn’t be sure. The only link between
David and myself was his lips on my nipple. Nothing else connected us.
He wasn’t even touching my legs. But there was a bridge between us,
which seemed almost indestructible, in that moment, that night.

Soon he turned his attention to my left nipple, although his fingers
remained touching and teasing the other one. When finally his lips left my
skin, I opened my eyes and saw he was gazing right at me.

He smiled. “Do you like to keep your eyes shut, or would you prefer to

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watch what I’m doing to you?”

“Watch. I like to watch,” I said.

“All right,” he said. “Then you’d best keep your eyes open because I’m
planning to touch you a lot more.”

I couldn’t help it. I groaned and pushed my prick up towards him. David
gently avoided my offering of myself and only murmured, “Soon. I need
you to be patient, but soon.”

Instead, he began to touch and rub my chest and arms, and I gave in
easily to the delicious sensations.

“Talk to me,” he said. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“I love the way you’re stroking me,” I said. “But I wish…”

I wasn’t quite sure how to say it so I faltered, but David was quick to
encourage me. “You can tell me anything if I’ve asked you to do so.
What do you wish?”

“I wish you’d hold my cock again,” I whispered.

“Like I said before. It felt so good.”

He laughed softly. “I can see where your spirit lies, but not every
sensation begins and ends with your cock.

There is more to the body than that. Tell me where my fingers are, what
you’re feeling there.”

It was hard to think of anything at all beyond my dick, but something in
me responded to the challenge, and I focused on where his hands were
now, instead of where I wanted them to be.

“Your fingers are stroking my chest,” I said. “And the tops of my arms.
It’s almost ticklish, but it’s making me feel relaxed as well. It’s
comforting.”

“Good,” he said. “I want you to keep focused on what I’m doing to you.
I’m not going to touch you sexually. Not at first. But you don’t have to be

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disappointed, because I’m going to get there. While I do, I want you to
keep your attention on my hands and my mouth. Don’t say anything else,
though you can make noises if you want to. That’s allowed. Just no
words. Do you understand?”

I nodded, and he chuckled. “That’s very good too.

You have an obedient soul. I like that.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but by now, it didn’t matter. His hands were
brushing over my skin in ever expanding circles of movement as if my
body was the finest velvet or silk. He’d only been stroking me for a few
minutes, but it was the most intense period of attention anyone had ever
paid me. His fingers danced patterns across my torso and deeper, in my
blood and bones.

“Stretch out your arms,” he whispered, and I did so, lying back against
the sofa and stretching my legs wide as well. It did me no good. My
straining cock found no relief there.

He simply continued to stroke my body and then trace a line of kisses
along my arms. When he reached my fingers, he slowly took each one
into his mouth and sucked them in turn, finishing off by kissing my palms.

His actions made me shiver again, and I moaned out my delight,
remembering only at the last second not to speak and not to beg him for
more.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s lovely to hear you groaning. The body is a
playground, and we have to be in tune with it.

There is so much enjoyment to be taken. And to see you so needy like
this, your whole body entirely open to me, your cock aching for my
touch, is, I swear to you, the most erotic sight I’ve seen in a long, long
time.”

I couldn’t reply. All I could do was pant and wait for him. Next he
turned his attention to my legs. He ran warm fingers down the inside of
my thighs and down past my knees before kissing each of my toes in turn.

Nobody had ever treated me like this before. Nobody had ever

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appreciated me this much. I didn’t know how to react, but I wanted more.

At last his hands and lips left my skin. I missed his touch on me but knew
this wasn’t the end.

“I think we should go upstairs,” he said, laying one hand on my knee so I
felt connected to him again. “If you’re happy to do that. If you are, then
when we’re in my bedroom, we can talk about what we both want to
happen there. How does that sound to you? You may speak as I need to
hear your answer.”

“Perfect,” I said, my voice hoarse with need. “It sounds perfect. Thank
you.”

“Good,” he said. “Then stand up.”

I obeyed. The feeling of disorientation made me stagger, and he grabbed
me by the elbow. A shaft of sudden warmth zipped from his touch
straight to my prick, and because of it, I found it hard to walk. He didn’t
say anything, but he helped me up the stairs onto the landing and then led
me to the right, into what had to be his bedroom.

He switched on the light.

I gasped. In contrast to David’s living areas downstairs, which were
clear and bright, his bedroom was dark and seductive. Warm lilac walls
contrasted with the deep mauve bed coverings and curtains. The ceiling
lights were soft gold and made the ingrained wood of the four poster
glimmer. Next to the bed, the table held a tall jug of water and two
glasses. I could easily imagine spending several hours in a room such as
this.

“It’s beautiful,” I said. “I didn’t expect it.”

David drew me over to the inviting bed and eased me down onto the
coverlet. Close up, I could see it was embroidered at the edges with
gold thread, and I ran my hand across it, feeling the cool richness of silk.

He moved away and poured us both a glass of water.

“Men have told me so before, but I’ve always thought when you wish to

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be truly private with someone then the surroundings should be different
from when you just want to have a little conversation.”

I smiled and sipped my water. I certainly wouldn’t have called what
we’d been doing “conversation”, but I got what he was trying to say. “Is
your private life very different from your public one?”

“Good question,” he said and sat next to me. “Yes, I think so. In my
private life, I enjoy taking my dreams as far as they can go, but I can’t
always do so when I step outside this room. Isn’t something like that true
of everyone?”

I supposed it was, so I nodded. I couldn’t help but feel a frisson of guilt
at the realisation he was sharing these dreams with a man pretending to
be someone else.

It was too late to back out now, and in any case, I didn’t want to. I just
wanted him to touch me again. The time for making light of what was
happening had long since gone.

“What do you want me to do for you here and now?”

he asked me.

So many things I could have listed for him, so many acts he could do to
me or make me do. But somehow the way he’d phrased the question
seemed deeper and more searching than how he’d asked it when we
were still downstairs. Not only that but the thing I really wanted was so
much more. I’d never told anyone before tonight, but here and now what
I said seemed to be the only way to respond.

“I want you to master me, in my sex life,” I whispered. “I want you to
overpower me and take control. I don’t know how to do that, how to
release it, but I want to try.”

He nodded, never taking his eyes off me once.

“Thank you for telling me. It must be very hard to know how much you
need something but be unable to get it.”

I nodded, my heart beginning to pound and my throat dry, in spite of the

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water. “Please, will you touch me when you talk with me? I can’t bear
feeling separate like this.”

It was true, in ways I couldn’t even have begun to admit, yesterday.

“Yes, of course,” he said at once. “I should have thought of that. You’re
naked and feeling very open to me, and I’ve taken you to an unfamiliar
place. I’m sorry.

You must be more distracting than I’d anticipated.”

He placed his hand on my knee, and I took a few deep breaths,
concentrating on him until I felt steady again. After a while, he began
easing his fingers up and down my leg, making me even more aware of
the pleasures of his touch.

“All right,” he said when a few more minutes had passed. “Tonight, I’m
going to allow you to lick and suck my cock. Then I’m going to do the
same for you.

But you aren’t allowed to come at all, not then. Though I suspect I
probably will. You’re so damn hot I won’t be able to help myself. Later,
when I enter you—with either my finger or my cock, though I haven’t
decided yet— you can come when I say so. Do you think you can manage
that kind of sex-play?”

I blinked. “I don’t know. Please, I’d like to try.”

David laughed. “That’s an honest answer. Thank you. All right, so why
don’t you kneel at my feet, take my cock out slowly, and we’ll begin.
Remember, we’re starting a scene now, so I’m in charge, and you need
to listen to and rely fully on me. And don’t forget your safe word. Is that
understood?”

Nodding and more eager to begin than I’d ever been about anything in my
whole life, I knelt. Strangely, it felt like the most natural place in the
room to be. My body still tingled from the pleasure he’d given me
downstairs, and the thought of David fucking me made me shiver.

For the first time since I’d gate-crashed his date, it felt as if the ghost of
Timothy wasn’t here anymore, or maybe had never been here, and it was

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only David and me. I took my time, slowly unzipping him, as he’d
commanded, and taking his hardening cock out so I could delight in the
shape of him, and how he smelt both clean and masculine, with a hint of
spices and something that must be uniquely him.

Peter had never allowed me to handle him in the way David did. His
prick had been used only for penetrating and plunging into my mouth or
arse. Yes, it had given me great joy, but he’d never let me spend time
with it.

Not like this.

David’s cock was very different. Long and slender. I held him in my
hands as he’d held me outside in the street after we’d left the restaurant.
My fingers stroked a line of attention over the full length of his cock, and
I played, almost without breathing, with the gentle folds of his foreskin.
He gasped, and the sound made me smile.

After memorising his length with my hand, I began to worship him with
my mouth too. I drew my lips from his tip to his base, nuzzling him and
murmuring sounds rather than words, all the time breathing in his musky
masculine scent. Then at his base, I traced a line over the top with my
tongue and whispered my pleasure onto his skin slowly back down to the
tip again.

I repeated the act three times. When I glanced up, I saw David’s eyes
were glittering, and he was beginning to breathe heavily. So I opened my
mouth and, inch by glorious inch, took him inside for the first time.

If anything could satisfy me apart from his cock filling my arsehole right
to the brim, then this surely was it. I sucked and licked and murmured.
The ache of my jaw concentrated my efforts, and soon I was lost entirely
in the feel of having a man’s cock in my mouth again.

Just for the sheer joy and submission of it, and without the need to
commit myself to anything more.

I could have stayed like that forever, almost. Even so, after a time I
couldn’t begin to count, he began to thrust and groan between my lips,
and I knew he was close.

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Very close. I took every thrust and delighted in every groan, matching it
with my own and wrapping my arms around his buttocks and pushing him
ever deeper.

Suddenly, a burst of hot salt in my mouth and I was swallowing him
down as fast as I could, almost choking from the pulsing liquid and his
thrusting cock. He cried out as he came and then pulled himself from me.
I shut my eyes just in time as his spunk spurted across my face and hair,
luxuriating in his sticky warmth marking me.

“God,” he said, his voice nothing more than a rasping whisper. “You
look wonderful with my cum all over you.”

“And inside me,” I panted. “I can taste you too.”

He half laughed. “I bet you can. You have a very talented mouth.”

“Thank you. You’ve got a very talented prick,” I said. “I wonder what
else you can do?”

He snorted with laughter. “God, you’re pushy. I like it, but I can see you
need a firm hand, in more ways than one. Just like I thought. Anyway,
that’s something for later. For now, you can lick your mouth clean and
wipe your eyelids too. But leave the rest of my semen where it is. I enjoy
looking at you like that.”

I did what he told me. By now, my cock was so hard it was almost
painful, and I couldn’t imagine how I could stop myself coming if he
went down on me, as he’d promised. Even if I did perform the almost
impossible, I couldn’t imagine how I would ever get home with my prick
so needy if I had no release.

“Good,” he said when I’d finished cleaning myself as he wanted. “Now,
get on the bed, face up. While I’m sucking you, if you feel you might
come, say your safe word and I’ll hold you back until you’re ready for
me to carry on. You show me that by telling me you’re ready.

If you say your safe word twice, I’ll come off you completely, I won’t
suck you again or enter you in any way tonight and I won’t allow you to
come at all. Is that clear?”

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I licked my lips, while I thought it through and then nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“All right,” he said gently. “So let’s begin.”

He smiled down at me from the bedside and began to undress. His chest
was smooth and tanned. When I reached out to touch him, he came closer
so I could run my fingers over his nipples and down towards his belly.

When he removed his trousers, his cock was still half hard and a few
drops of cum fell onto the cloth, but he didn’t seem bothered. He knelt on
the bed, pushed my legs wide apart and slipped between them. I began to
pant, and for a second or two, we simply looked at each other. It came to
me how much trust I was putting in him, but it didn’t scare me one bit. I
was a slut for sure, but a happy one.

He broke my gaze and took the whole of my cock deep into his mouth. I
cried out, arched my back towards him and tried to keep myself on an
even keel, concentrating with all my strength on not coming there and
then. His commands were dancing round my head as the heat of his
mouth sent pleasure coursing through my cock and outward across my
whole body. I moaned, a rising note in my voice, and David pressed the
base of my cock even while he continued to swallow me down.

His act brought me back under his control, and I gave it all up to him,
allowing his hand to steady me and his lips and tongue to take me right
there to the edge of orgasm. But not beyond, not yet. No matter how much
I longed for it.

He continued to lick and suck me, and every so often, I thrust myself
slowly, almost lazily into his mouth, even though I couldn’t get any
farther inside him. He had me right to the base now, his hands holding
my hips. I licked my lips, still tasting the remains of salt at the corners.
My breath came easily, and I felt half-drugged with pleasure, enjoying
the sensation of being not yet at the peak of it but climbing ever higher.

Sex had never been like this before. I could see how submitting to a man
was really the most natural thing in the world. Nothing to be scared of at
all.

Then during one of the times when I was thrusting lazily into his mouth,
his finger trailed a slow line across the saliva and precum patterning my

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pubic hair before disappearing beneath me. I felt him tease my arsehole
and gasped as he entered me. My heart began to pound, my breath all but
vanishing away.

My descent back onto the bed from my thrusting position only drove his
finger deeper inside. Surprise gave way to a delight that pushed me far
too near the edge, and I was shimmering on the brink of orgasm.

“Basingstoke,” I groaned. “Please.”

At once, his lips and tongue stopped their rhythmic action on my cock,
and his finger in my arse became still, though it remained lodged inside
me. My unsteady breath flickered through the warm air as I fought the
urge to spend myself in his mouth. I glanced down at him and met his
calm gaze. The sight of my cock engulfed in his lips teetered me on the
edge once more so I collapsed back onto the bed and closed my eyes to
the images flowing through my mind.

I shuddered and cursed myself as I panted once more after control.
Telling myself to get a grip, but not the kind of grip he currently had on
me, I swallowed hard and gave myself a few more long breaths to calm
down.

“Thank you,” I whispered at last when I judged I could make sufficient
sense for David to understand.

“I’m fine now, really. At least, I think I am. Please, carry on, if you want
to. Please.”

He sighed around my quivering cock and began again the aching delight
of licking and manipulating me.

He kept his finger motionless in my arsehole, though, and I was grateful.
I couldn’t have withstood a double assault on my wavering sense of
control.

Finally, he withdrew his mouth from me, and his finger slipped out of my
hole. I remained flat out on the bed, my cockhead weeping for release,
and my whole body shaking with pleasure.

“Come for me,” he whispered, or I thought he did, and I had to wait for

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him to say it again before I could believe it. “Come for me, any damn
way you wish to. I want to see you shatter.”

I was crying out even as my hand reached down and wrapped itself
round my cock. At the first touch of my fingers, I started to come and kept
on coming. Bright ribbons of sperm shot upwards as I pumped out my
juices at David’s command. Hot bliss poured through my whole body as
if all of my limbs and blood had simply been waiting for this moment
and this moment alone.

Finally, I collapsed back onto the bed, my cock still dripping and my
legs and stomach smeared with my own cum.

David folded himself next to and around me. He ran his hand across my
stomach and then eased his fingers between my lips. I sucked at him
eagerly, tasting salt and the musky taste of my own body. At that moment,
I would have done anything he asked of me and begged him for more.

“I was right,” he murmured in my ear. “When I first saw you, I couldn’t
help but wonder, and it’s true. When you fully submit, you’re the most
beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

I had no voice to answer him, though if I had, I would have told him I
thought exactly the same way about him. I simply curved into the strength
of his limbs, and then I slept. Later, I woke and glanced at the bedside
clock. It was 2:30A.M.

It was time to go. I didn’t want to, but I’d gate-crashed another man’s
date for far too long so it was probably best to make myself scarce. Still,
watching David sleeping made me smile, though I couldn’t see much in
the darkness. Only what I could glean from the faint reflection of the
moon through the window. Maybe I could stay till the morning? No, it
was a one-night stand, nothing more, and it would be better to get that
fact straight in my head pretty damn quickly.

So I crept out of the bedroom as quietly as possible.

At the door, David’s steady breathing juddered into almost-wakefulness,
and I froze, waiting for the rhythm of his breath to reassert itself. He
sighed and turned over, and I wondered if he might have seen my outline
in the dark, but then the sound of soft snoring made me relax.

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Downstairs, I found the living room easily enough, switched on the light
and gathered the clothes I’d left there only a few hours earlier.

My prick stiffened at the memory, but I ignored it. I needed to go home,
get on with my life and leave David and the mysterious Timothy to get on
with theirs. After all the lies I’d spun tonight, it would be the decent
thing to do. When I was dressed, I located the downstairs cloakroom,
where I pissed away the coffee and washed my face clean of dried
spunk. The rest would have to wait.

I rang for a taxi, padding into the kitchen and clicking the door shut so I
wouldn’t wake David. While I waited for the cab to arrive, I left a
message on his memo pad. It seemed only courteous.

Thank you for tonight, I wrote in faint green marker pen. It was different,
and I enjoyed it. More than I can say, really. By the time you read this,
you’ll probably have worked out I’m not Timothy (sorry about that…)
but I wouldn’t have missed this, or you, for the world.

Thank you, I mean it.

Yours (or probably not, I suppose) Benjamin

I put the note on the hall table where I assumed David would see it and
waited in the shadows of the hallway until I heard the sound of a car
drawing up outside. When I looked out, I could see the taxi sign.

Time to go then. This was it.

I’d only taken one step forward into the cool of the night when someone
behind me coughed and the light was switched on.

“And where on earth do you think you’re going?”

I swung round, heart pounding in my chest. God, but David looked hot,
glaring at me from the stairs and dressed only in a dark blue dressing
gown, his hair mussed up in a way that made me want to smooth it down

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again. Just like I’d touched it earlier on outside the pub. Yesterday night,
though, it seemed a lifetime away.

“Home,” I said, with a gulp. “I’m going home.”

“Oh?” he said and began to walk the rest of the way down the stairs
towards me. He took his time. Maybe he did everything like that. “Oh? I
don’t recall giving you permission to leave, though of course we’re not
playing a scene now. But it would have been polite to let me know, at
least.”

Without thinking, my eyes darted to the hall table.

When I looked at him again, he was quirking one eyebrow. “A note?
How courteous. I think I’ll read it now. Then if I’ve got any questions, I
can ask you while you’re still here.”

“No,” I said and sprang forward, grabbing his arm as he reached for my
letter. “No, really, no need. You can read it later. Don’t worry about it
now.”

David only smiled and patted my hand where it lay on his elbow before
unfolding the letter. I thought briefly about fleeing but couldn’t think how
to explain it to the poor taxi driver, who was no doubt still waiting for
me to appear. Besides, running away wasn’t an adult option, and I knew
it.

“Look,” I said, trying to sound like a man with an explanation even
though I didn’t have one. “I’ll be honest with you. I’m not Timothy. I just
pretended to be him because… because when I walked past the
restaurant I liked the look of you. I’m sorry about leading you on. It was
a spur of the moment thing, and I’m not usually that impulsive. It’s true
what I’ve written, though. I really did have a wonderful time tonight, and
I won’t forget it. Ever. I hope you’ll forgive me for being a bit of a
chancer, but it’s probably best I go, isn’t it?”

After all that, I shut up. David nodded and folded the note back into two
before replacing it on the table.

“Benjamin,” he said slowly, making each syllable count. “Benjamin. I
like it. Better than Timothy, if I’m being honest.”

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“Thank you,” I began to say, stupidly, before the obvious fact of his
response hit me. “Oh. You don’t sound surprised.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “I’m not. For someone who’s
supposed to have been running his own accountancy business for a
while, you didn’t know the first thing about it from our conversation at
dinner.

Though I admired the sheer pizzazz of your performance, I must say.
What is it you really do, Benjamin?”

I swallowed hard. “I’m a model for the more mature man assignments,
though not that mature, I hasten to add. And I do a bit of acting on the
side, here and there.”

“I see. That would explain it. You were pretty good at your cover story.
It took me a while to work out you were spinning me a load of rubbish.
Then back here, when I was getting the coffee, I checked my texts and
found one from Timothy. The real Timothy. He’s decided against me, I
fear.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, ” I said, though I didn’t think I was.

Not really. “So why didn’t you chuck me out then? And, anyway, you’ve
been spinning me just as much of a lie as I’ve been doing to you, haven’t
you? If you were so sure I was a phoney at the restaurant, why bring me
back here at all?”

In answer, David simply reached out and touched my cheek, drawing his
fingers slowly across my mouth. I couldn’t have glanced away from him
if I’d tried.

“I liked the way you looked, and I liked the way you responded to me. It
was the most honest reaction I’ve ever encountered in a man, no matter
how many lies you were spinning. I thought I’d take a chance and see
how it turned out. Now I think it turned out very well.”

Then he kissed me, framing my face with both his hands and pressing his
tongue deep inside my mouth.

The kiss took a while, but I wasn’t complaining. Just as he drew apart

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from me, the brief toot of a car horn pierced the air.

“Your taxi?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I see.”

He frowned, as if puzzling something out, and I waited. I’d learnt very
quickly David was always worth the wait. And once again, I was right.

“I want you to stay,” he said, at last. “If you’d like to.

But bearing in mind how deceitful you’ve been on our very first date, if
you do stay, there’s going to have to be punishment. Perhaps a spanking.
What do you think?”

David’s eyes glittered with promises I suspect he’d have absolutely no
difficulty in fulfilling, and I couldn’t help the broad smile spreading over
my face.

“Sod the taxi,” I said. “It can find another passenger.

And I think a good spanking is definitely the least I deserve. Don’t you?”

THE END

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ANNE BROOKE

Anne Brooke’s fiction has been shortlisted for the Harry Bowling Novel
Award, the Royal Literary Fund Awards and the Asham Award for
Women Writers. She has also twice been the winner of the national
DSJT

Charitable

Trust

Open

Poetry

Competition.

She is the author of nine published novels, including her fantasy series,
The Gathandrian Trilogy, featuring gay scribe Simon Hartstongue. More
information on the trilogy is available at: www.gathandria.com.

In addition, her gay and literary short stories are regularly published by
Amber Allure Press, Wilde City Press and Untreed Reads. All her gay
fiction can be found at: www.gayreads.co.uk www.gayreads.co.uk .

Anne has a secret passion for theatre and chocolate, preferably at the
same time, and is currently working on a fantasy novella, The Taming of
the Hawk. More information can be found at www.annebrooke.com
www.annebrooke.com and she regularly blogs at:
annebrooke.blogspot.com.

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Also by Anne Brooke

Gay-themed Gathandrian Trilogy:

1. The Gifting

2. Hallsfoot's Battle

3. The Executioner's Cane

A Dangerous Man

The Bones of Summer

The Prayer Seeker

Dido's Tale

Maloney's Law

The Art Of The Delaneys

Dating The Delaneys

The Delaneys And Me

The Delaneys At Home

The Delaneys, My Parents And Me Entertaining The Delaneys

The Boilerman And The Bride

Brady’s Choice

For One Night Only

Give And Take

The Hit List

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Martin And The Wolf

A Stranger’s Touch

Tommy’s Blind Date

Tuluscan Six And The Time Circle Who Moved My Holepunch?

A Little Death

A Woman Like the Sea

Candy and Catharsis

Creative Accountancy for Beginners Dancing with Lions

How to Eat Fruit

The Gift of the Snow

The Girl in the Painting

The Secret Thoughts of Leaves

Thorn in the Flesh

Where You Hurt The Most

The Heart's Greater Silence

A Dangerous Man

Angels and Airheads

Two Christmases

The Gifting

Hallsfoot's Battle

Dido's Tale

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Rosie By Name

Painting From Life

Not a Shred of Evidence

The Truth About Butterflies

The Betrayal of Birds

The Prayer Seeker

Anthologies:

Lashings of Sauce

Poetry:

Sunday Haiku

A Stranger's Table

Salt and Gold


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