The Bleakest of Seasons

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'Yes. Date. With my boyfriend.' Did you just call Scott your boyfriend?

'Hmmf.' He snorts, then turns and heads back to his friend, who shakes his head at him.

A sense of relief washes over you. You're not one for confrontation, and all you want to do is sit quietly and wait for Scott.

'Excuse me.'

Fuck.

'Miss?'

You turn, and the second salesman is standing to your right. He has a grin on his face, but he's not as drunk as his friend, although his tie is loose and his shirt is untucked.

'I'm waiting for my date, can you please leave me alone?' You request quietly.

'Date huh?' He leans on the bar beside you. 'I've got two hundred dollars in my pocket. Can I be your 'date' first?'

It happens so fast you're not sure what happens first. The bartender slaps his hand on the bar in anger. 'Buddy!' He calls out, clearly offended by what the man just said to you. You, angered by what he just said to you, throw your drink (A nice dry Pinot-Grigio with a nice sharp aftertaste and a hint of apple.) directly into his face.

The man recoils, as the alcohol stings his eyes. He takes a step back and wipes the wine from his face. Then he focuses on you, sneers, and to your horror he starts to cock his hand back.

'LOWER. YOUR. HAND.'

The words are so loud and said with such force that everyone freezes and the restaurant falls still. You stare at the half drunk, violent salesman frozen in his position. You glance left, and Scott is standing in the doorway of the bar, the hostess frozen behind him as well.

A while later, you wonder if it's weird that the first thing you noticed moments after he interrupted a potential assault on your person was that he had obviously taken pains to dress up for you. Pressed black dress slacks were coupled with a freshly ironed stone gray dress shirt, and his shoes were so polished that they shined.

'You!' Barks the bartender as he points at your potential assailant. 'Take your drunken friend and leave. Now!'

Both salesmen look sheepish, then the one that was about to hit you turns away, embarrassed and suddenly passive. He walks back to his table as Scott walks through the doorway and stands between you and the salesmen.

They both pick up their jackets and the aggressive one looks back at Scott.

'You have a pleasant evening buddy.' Says Scott, in a tone of voice that implies something entirely different than what he says.

He stands like that for the next few moments, fixing a cold glare on the two clods as they gather their things and meekly leave. You can't help but watch his rigid body language, as he stands there like a chubby guard dog waiting to sink his teeth into someone.

Before you even realize you're doing it, you slide your hand out and touch his hand. He pauses for a moment, then relaxes his fist and gives your fingers a gentle squeeze. At his gesture, you suddenly realize you were holding your breath and exhale.

'I am terribly sorry about that folks.' says the bartender behind you, and as you glance over the older gentleman looks distraught. 'I can't believe those guys would act that way. Please let me get you something. On the house.'

You try to ask him for another glass of wine, but you squeak when you try to talk. Adrenaline surging through your blood has made you unsteady. The door closes behind the two drunken idiots, and Scott watches it for a minute before turning to you.

He goes to speak. Then stops. He opens his mouth again, closes it, and finally gets words out.

'You... you look fantastic.' He says, with just a hint of a smile.

You can't take it any more. Abruptly, you stand up from the bar stool. The heels on your ridiculous, toe crushing shoes give you a height increase so that you can grab Scott by the shirt and pull him to you. You give him a kiss that lies somewhere between 'I'm really glad to see you.' and 'You are so getting laid tonight.'

He's a little surprised, but he kisses you back a moment later. You can feel his pulse pounding, telling you that despite his calm demeanour, he was as jacked up on adrenaline as you were.

You part lips, and look up at him with a naughty grin.

'You're late.' You whisper.

'I am. I'm sorry.'

'What do you have to say for yourself?'

'You really do look fantastic. Just... wow!' He says with a smirk.

The bartender coughs, and you glance over and blush at the same time. Why are you embarrassed? you wonder to yourself.

'So... uh, can I get you folks a drink?' says the polite older gent behind the bar, desperately trying not to stare at the two of you as you...

What am I doing? You think to yourself. How am I this besotted over a guy I just met for real a few days ago.

'I'll have a Guinness, she'll have a Gibson's with Ginger Ale and we'd love a table please.' Scott says without breaking your gaze. 'Something private would be nice.'

You take his arm, and wander into a quiet area in the restaurant with him. He's still tense from the moment, but you feel secure with him. He pulls out your chair, seats you and then seats himself. He plunks down into the chair, exhaling loudly.

'Hey.' He says.

'Hey yourself.' You smile at him.

'So what was with the two idiots?'

'Oh, my date was late, so I waited at the bar and got a drink, and because I was all dolled up, they thought I was a prostitute.'

'What?!?' Says Scott incredulously.

'A prostitute. The one guy offered me two hundred dollars.'

'Really?

'Why are you so shocked? I'm a fine looking, exotic and seductive woman!'

'Well that's what I'm talking about. I would have offered at least two fifty and let you haggle me up to three hundred.'

You kick him under the table. He yelps and laughs.

'Jerk!'

'Absolutely. Should we get something to eat?'

'What makes you think I want to eat with you?'

'Because you,' He says with a gleam in his eye. 'Are going to need your strength tonight.'

You really, really want to come up with a clever retort.

'Oh.'

That was not it.

The waiter brings drinks, and you order a salad. Scott orders pasta with cheese and herbs. He tries to eat and look mysterious and sophisticated. He doesn't see the noodle slip off his fork and latch onto his shirt. You giggle at him a lot behind your napkin.

He catches you about the third time you do it, and sighs.

'Now you are never going to find me dark or mysterious.' He says with a sigh.

'Honestly, the chances of that were not high.'

Dinner is nice. The food is simple but well made, and they have some nice vegetarian things to eat. Aside from the cheese, he avoids anything that might make you feel queasy. The drinks are going down like water. You've got a little bit of a buzz going by the time it wraps up and the waiter brings the check.

'This was nice.' You say. Your nose is tingling. Salad doesn't offer much of a buffer and you had at least five ryes with ginger ale as Scott charmed you and teased you.

As you get up to leave, you stumble a little and Scott catches your hand so you don't stumble any further. He smiles at you, mildly concerned.

'Are you ok Kiddo?'

'M'fine. Just the heels.' You respond, mildly embarrassed.

He eyes you for a moment, then leans over and whispers into your ear.

'Are you sure you're ok? This can wait for another night.'

Without thinking, you whisper in his ear.

'Nope. No it can't.' You say with just a hint of a grin. And then you lean in and nibble on his earlobe.

It catches him a little off guard. Then he smiles and takes your hand and you walk casually out of the restaurant together into the mildly chilly night. You cling to his arm as he walks you out to his car. He's going to drive, as he had a beer and a couple of cokes while he kept buying you drinks. Your nipples pop erect in the chill night air, and you kind of hope that he can see that and kind of hope that he can't.

If he does, he isn't letting on.

'Hey, wait, were you trying to get me drunk?' You blurt out suddenly as the thought crosses your mind.

'Nope. I didn't try, I succeeded.'

'That doesn't seem fair.' You respond with what you hope is a sexy pout.

'Absolutely not. Traditionally I'd go for the chloroform on the cloth method, but I try and save that for a third date.'

You giggle at him, but he's stone-faced.

'You're kidding me, right?'

He grins, and leads you out to his car. You eyeball his rust bucket, then tease him a little bit.

'Is it safe in this thing? It has brakes and seatbelts right?'

'Absolutely. Most of them even work.'

You roll your eyes and slide into the passenger seat as he holds the door. His place is only a few minutes away, and he pulls into what appears to be a commercial area. You raise your eyebrows and look over at him in confusion.

'I thought we were going to your place?'

'We are.' He hits a remote on his visor and a garage door slides up, allowing him access to a small bay. A light flicks on, and you see the inside of a clean working area.

'Call stereo.' He orders his Bluetooth, and a moment later it answers him in a robotic voice proclaiming 'Stereo.'

'Play Loms. Volume 4.'

'Playing.' And you suddenly hear faint orchestral music. He walks around to your side of the car and holds the door open. You try and slide out all sexy, but you're distracted by the weirdness of his home.

'What is this place? It looks like a meat packing plant?'

'It's not a meat packing plant. I live here. It used to be an engineering firm but they relocated to Arizona.'

'So there's no killing floor? You're not going to knock me out with chloroform and then carve me into chunks?'

'What kind of dates have you been having?' Scott says with a raised eyebrow.

You smile, and he leads you to the freight elevator. You move up one floor, and then the doors open and let you out into the most bachelor looking apartment you have ever seen. The floors are not even tiled, they're just painted concrete. It's entirely open concept except for the two doors leading to the men's and ladies' room, complete with little male and female stick figures. There's a kitchenette area with two separate fridges, and one coke machine. Aside from that, there's little furniture. There's a bed, a large couch and a couple of recliners. A huge wide-screen TV is positioned to be visible from all of the seating or sleeping space, and is connected to at least four video game systems. Behind all that is a work bench with a pair of laptops and at least four computers in various states of disassembly.

Then there's the curtained off area. You wonder about that.

'It's... homey.' You say, trying to be nice.

'It's a dump. But when the firm left, nobody else picked up the lease and it sat here for fourteen months.' He wanders into the kitchen, opens a cupboard and pulls out a bottle of whiskey. Ice clinks around in a tumbler, and a moment later he pours you what would charitably be called a strong drink.

'It is however, hooked directly into a T3, which I use to telecommute to work. Hydro and heat are built into the rent. It also came with a Coke machine already in place, and it has all kinds of... other amenities.' He waves generally to the washrooms.

'What kind of amenities?'

'I have urinals. How many guys have you dated that actually have urinals in their apartments?'

'About one too many.' You say with a smirk as you take a long pull on the drink. You take his hand and lead him to the couch.

He plunks down next to you, smiling at you. You smile back.

'So what are you doing to me tonight?'

'I thought we'd do a little exploring. Nothing painful. Nothing too rough.'

'You're not going to ravish me? Tear my clothes off and use me without mercy?'

'We could, but that kind of looks like an expensive dress.'

'Meh. Ninety dollars at Spanglers.'

'I thought we might go a little slower, maybe see if we can keep your clothes intact, at least for the evening.'

'Oh do tell me more.' You tease back, taking another pull of your drink.

'How about I just show you?' He says, and he lifts himself off the couch and walks over to the curtain. He heaves it back, not without some effort, revealing the hidden area.

Over in the corner, a simple bed sits, blankets rumpled and messy with a couple of pillows. A sleepy looking white and black cat looks at Scott with disdain from the comfy bed. In the other side of the room though, a very large, very interesting table sits. Hard points and rings jut out from the side of the table, and several chains hang down from the ceiling.

'Oh my.' You say, suddenly interested now. A moment later, you're on your feet, and you wobble over to the table for a closer look. The top of the table is covered with a black leather or leather substitute, and it's shiny and soft. There are some bars and wheels on the side of the table, but other than that, there's nothing else. It's just a table, but it's a table with a comfortable leather top.

'I think it was a base for a milling machine of some kind, maybe a lathe. It slides up and down; I can put it on an angle. It has storage areas and there's heavy duty support rings embedded in the ceiling.'

He looks at you and smiles.

'I was actually sold the moment I saw the coke machine, but this made me sign the lease that day.'

'Was the leather...' You ask, running your hand over the surface of the table. It's smooth and just a little chilly.

'It's not actual leather. It's a synthetic I think. I'd like leather, but it was bloody expensive and... well, you've seen my car.' He says with a smirk.

'So are you going to tie me to the table and have your way with me? Rip my clothes away and use me without mercy?' The words spill out with a tad more lust than you'd like. Scott grins when you say that however, and then he slides around the table and moves in close.

'That's the second time you've mentioned that. I may not be all that perceptive, but I can take a hint.'

He slips a hand around your waist; the other one creeps up your back and then grips your hair firmly. You exhale and close your eyes. This is it. He leans into you and slides the other hand up your side and then cups your breast.

'Tell me. Gentle or rough?' He whispers in your ear. His breath is hot, and it tickles your neck.

'Rough. Don't be gentle.' You whisper back without hesitation.

He pulls back, looks you right in the eye and raises an eyebrow. The question is asked silently, but he wants to be sure.

You slap him, hard. He recoils, surprised by the sudden violence.

'How dare you lay your hands on me, you brute!' You say, with a smile.

Scott holds a hand to his face, surprised. You hit him a lot harder than you intended and the red handprint is clear. Still he smiles at you, then he grins widely.

'All right kiddo. Let's play that game.'

He pounces with surprising speed, abruptly gripping your hair none to gently, pulling you in to him. He forces his mouth over yours and kisses you hard and with passion. He gives your breast a firm squeeze, and then you feel him gripping the collar of your dress. There's a firm tug, and then you can hear fabric scream as he tears open the front of the dress.

You feel a sudden chill down the front of your chest as the dress tears apart. A second later he grabs the straps on your bra and yanks them down your shoulders, pinning your arms with the straps and the remnants of your little black dress.

He stops for a moment and stares. You realize that he's taking in your chest, and you feel heat in your cheeks and throat as you suddenly blush a deep pink. Your nipples suddenly harden like little diamonds as you feel his eyes on you.

'I... I just...' He stammers for a moment, and then he pulls you into him and kisses you hard again. He's hot against you. His grip is strong and the torn dress and the straps of the brassiere pin your arms tight against your sides. The rye in your tummy makes you feel fuzzy and warm and light headed. You press your lips back against his hard.

You stay like that for a moment, locked in. Then he gives your nipple a painful tweak that makes you gasp and arch your back. That's all the opening he needs and you feel the rest of the dress tearing away in shreds. His grip is still firm against your hair as he paws your breasts and dips his mouth to suck in your small, muddy pink nipple and drag his teeth over the little bud of flesh.

'Gnnnnnah!' You gasp out loud. He's playing your body like a violin. He's rough, but not too rough, strong, but not violent. He listens; he reacts and overpowers you. The cold steel of the table juts into your back and his smooth clothing warms your skin. You feel him pawing at the brassiere, and a moment later it pops open and releases your arms.

You don't hesitate; you place your palms on the table and heave yourself up. A moment later, you kick off your heels and relish the sudden release of pressure in your toes. He grins at you again, pats you on your thigh and then tugs on your black panties. He doesn't have to ask. You just raise your bum off the table and he slowly slides them down your legs. A moment later, he tosses them over his shoulder and pauses, just taking you in.

You can't help yourself. You spread your legs wide, and show him all of you. He cocks his head to the side and sighs.

'This moment.' He says quietly. 'This one moment...'

'What are you talking about?' You say back, legs still open, feeling especially naked.

'This is the kind of moment you wish you could bottle and store. So you could relive it again... and again and again.' He says it in a wistful way.

'Scott. Come live it now.' You whisper back.

He grins, walks forward and into your embrace. You wrap your arms and legs around him and pull him tight. He buries his face in your cleavage for a moment, and you grin and squeeze it tight around him. He comes up gasping for air seconds later. Then he plants his palms on the table and pulls himself up, toppling you over and pinning you to the table. He grabs your hands and forces them flat against the table. You can't help yourself, you wrap your legs around him and pull him tight against you. You feel him through his pants, erect and hard... and large.

You smile up at him, he smiles back, then leans down and nuzzles your neck, the stubble on his beard gently scratching your tender skin. He releases your hands so that he can cup and squeeze your breasts and suck the nipples into his mouth. You groan in pleasure as he mauls your chest in just the right way.

You scoot back on the leather tabletop to give him more leverage, and as you do so, he sits back on the table and begins unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes don't leave yours though, and his gaze is intense. He finishes unbuttoning his shirt and peels it off, revealing his own pale chest and flabby tummy. He smiles at you, but turns and slides off the table, disappearing from view for a moment.

'Wait! Where are you going?' Your voice sounds a little more desperate than you wish.

You hear a drawer slide open and then close, and Scott appears again a moment later. He tosses you something and you catch it.

It's a restraint. Hard leather and steel buckles, with a metal D-ring built into it.

You meet his eyes, and they're hot, his pupils dilated widely. His breathing is deep and focused. You keep his eyes locked on yours and slide your wrist into the restraint, slide the straps into the buckles and cinch it tight. Then you deliberately spread your legs to give him a clear view of you. The glistening between your thighs tells him just how aroused you are.

He smiles and provides you with three more restraints that you slide on in silent agreement. Chains are pulled from the table and hooked into the d-rings on the base of each restraint, and then each chain is slowly pulled taut until you are immobilized and spread wide open and naked, except for the trashy fishnet stockings that you wore to excite him.

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