Introductions and Exposures

She held herself back from reaching for another kiss, but she wanted more. "I'll ask Kevin for your info," he said when his car came, and they said good night. She felt his hand on her back, and the wetness between her legs, the whole walk home.

--

Their first date was a sushi dinner at a tiny restaurant in the East Village. There was no menu, so they ordered cocktails and waited.

He wore a black jacket and black slacks with a grey shirt that might have been silk. When making the plans, he'd told her the restaurant didn't have a dress code, but "wasn't a place for jeans." She'd worn a red silk blouse and a black pencil skirt, and had bought herself an expensive and luxurious black lace bra and thong for the evening.

He talked about his job, or rather, his lack of one. "I invest in companies, especially startups. I advise them, I sit on a few boards, but I don't actually work at any of them."

"But Chloe said Kevin's brother works for you?" she asked.

"Not exactly," he said "I have a controlling interest in one company, and he works for it."

"Controlling interest?" she asked. She had an idea what it meant but wanted to hear it.

"One of the other early investors was liquidating, so I bought her out," he said. "That gave me the majority of the shares in the company, so basically I own it."

"Is that good?" she asked. "Ownership?"

"It certainly makes things easier," he said, "but it's a lot of responsibility."

She didn't say anything and didn't look up.

"If we can take it public next year I'll be able to let it go and that will be nice," he continued. "But we're not talking about corporations, are we?"

"It sounds a little ruthless," she said. "You just sell it off when you're done?"

"Well, despite what the law says, corporations aren't people," he said.

"But you have staff," she said. "You have lots of people."

"I employ lots of people," he said. "Or more accurately, the company does. And I own the company. Not the same thing. "

The food started arriving, a few small plates at a time, with the waiter explaining each one. Robert ate slowly and carefully, giving the food the attention it deserved, and did not comment when she left the sea urchin untouched.

--

"Employment is a much more balanced relationship than the kind I like," he said later, over tea. "Employees have an HR department and a handbook. Their managers are trained about what they can and can't do. And you only have to worry about their work.

"But if you control a person you are solely, directly responsible for them. It's very sexy to have somebody blindfolded and restrained, but that person can't see where they're going and they can't catch themselves if they fall. Whomever is leading them has to make sure they don't trip, and be ready to catch them if they fall."

She thought of his hand behind her that night at Kevin and Chloe's.

"And in order to let someone control you like that, you must know for sure that you can trust them. If you're afraid they'll let you fall, you shouldn't give them control."

She nodded, and he continued.

"It's all about communication. Control of a person is worked out between the two of you," he said. "Every relationship is negotiated, obviously, but these negotiations are much more explicit and detailed. Or at least they should be. There's no one to escalate to, no employee hotline."

She laughed. "Chloe told you I was at the club that night, didn't she?" He nodded.

"So, there were people to complain to there," she said. "There was Kevin."

"That's entirely different," he said. "That was one event, that I'd discussed in detail with each of them ahead of time. But when it's over, Kevin isn't going to follow them home.

"That couple has worked hard, actually," he continued. "She really likes that kind of display but it's been a learning process for him."

"So she's in control too?"

"Did she look like she was in control?" he said with a smile. "She wasn't. But she had made a choice of what control to give up. Everyone has red lines or things they won't compromise on."

She nodded.

"I'd like to be clear that I would never allow that," he said. "Public display is one of the things I won't negotiate."

"I wouldn't either," she said.

"But this isn't the time or the place," he said briskly. He called for the bill and they sat in silence, somewhat uncomfortably. Thankfully it was not long before it arrived. They both reached for it, and he said, "Allow me." She protested. "We can split it."

His hand remained on the folio. "That wasn't me being polite," he said with a smile. She released the folio and folded her hands, then put them in her lap, then said, "I"ll go to the bathroom while you do that."

He nodded, and she rose. She disliked women who ended every sentence as if it were a question, but she'd just done exactly that. And it was quick, but had she waited for his nod? In the small bathroom, she pulled up her skirt, sat, and lowered her underwear. It was damp. She had not realized how aroused the conversation had made her.

Outside the restaurant he took her hand and said, "I had a lovely time."

"I did too, very much," she said, lifting her face to him. Their second kiss was quite a bit longer than the first. He held her, and turned her so that her back was to the scratched metal door. His hand on her lower back was quite intrusive this time, deliciously so, and she felt his other hand cupping the back of her neck, holding her as his kiss got deeper. She opened her eyes to see if anyone was looking, but his body shielded her almost entirely from view.

The hand on her back moved towards her waist, and she lifted herself up a bit, trying to offer her ass to his hand. He took the offer, his hand sliding down and cupping the curve of her, his fingers pushing the skirt slightly between her legs, but didn't proceed further. He broke the kiss when her car pulled up. A black car was already waiting for him.

He held her head in both hands and said, "I would like to see you again soon."

She kissed him again and said, "Please."

There was already a so??? text from Chloe on her phone. She texted back in cab🔥. Chloe texted back jazz hands, adding can't wait 2 hear.

--

At home, she lay on her bed, next to her half-folded, half-thrown clothes. Her fingers were between her legs, stroking idly. She wasn't masturbating, at least not yet. She was thinking about the conversation, imagining he'd been talking about her specifically rather than talking in general. Imagining being blindfolded, him leading her, his hand on her back.

Her phone pinged. It was Chloe. ru ok???

She hurriedly wiped her fingers on the sheet and responded. omg sorry! im home, got distracted.

Chloe hearted that, and responded with a wink emoji. call me tomw.

--

Their second date was a walk on the High Line. They walked and talked, found a bench looking out at the river. He kissed her, and it got as hot as it could given they were sitting in public.

He asked about her childhood -- she'd grown up in Brooklyn, while his family split their time between an East Village loft and a house in the Berkshires. He was from old New York State aristocracy, and was interested to hear that while her name was Italian, she was more Lebanese than anything else. Her mother had left with her family during the war in the 1980s, and met her father in college. He was Irish/Italian, a classic white-ethnic New Yorker.

Robert said he had started a company in the 1990s and sold it before the crash, and had made some smart investments since. That hadn't been an Uber picking him up after dinner, but his own car driven by someone who worked for him. So he did have at least one employee.

He asked about her job and she talked about her love of it, and her frustrations with it, and said she was working with several recruiters and hoping to make a change soon. It was a beautiful fall day; they walked and talked and had lunch, and sat, and kissed. She was wearing the jeans she liked, with boy shorts this time, and a sports bra under a long-sleeve t-shirt with a light jacket, and he was wearing jeans, a sweater and boots.

They got up and walked again, then found another seat overlooking the street. She asked, "Have you always known? That you were..."

"Dominant?" he said. She nodded.

"Yes," he said. "But it took a while to understand what it really meant."

"Chloe said that you'd, that all your relationships were like that," she said, her eyes on the view.

"All the serious ones," he said. "And you?"

"Sometimes," she said. "I kept needing to explain myself. Or it would get to be too much. Scary, or claustrophobic."

"Being controlled should feel safe, and it shouldn't require a tight grip," he said. The fact that he was holding her hand gently when he said this made her feel it between her legs. She drew his hand into her lap, and looked at him while she pressed herself against it. He smiled.

"Let's walk," he said, and they got up. He held her hand, and she said, "I've never talked about it like this. Nobody ever asked me what I wanted. They did things, and if I liked them they did more of them. And sometimes if I didn't like them."

He frowned. "I won't surprise you," he said. "I"ll be clear and I'll expect clarity from you. I find it very erotic to talk, or write, about sex."

"I like the sound of that," she said.

They parted at the southern end. He held both her hands in his, looking into her eyes. "I'd like you to have dinner with me at my place this week," he said, "if you'd be comfortable with that." She started to speak but he interrupted her. "Don't answer now. Email me this week, telling me if you want to have dinner and what night would be good, and tell me what you would like to have happen, or not happen. It doesn't need a lot of detail, but please be clear."

She furrowed her brow. "Okay," she said slowly.

"Or if you're not ready for dinner," he said, "tell me what you would like to do next, and what you would need from me. And ask me anything you like."

She nodded. "I can do that," she said. As she walked to the subway she imagined that this might not be like any of her other first times.

--

It took her a couple of days to finish the email, and she sent it late one night before going to bed.

Dear Robert,

Thank you for inviting me for dinner. I would like to come on Thursday night if the invitation is still open. I feel a little awkward saying this, but I would like to do more than kiss you. I was very turned on when we were on the High Line and I might have gone home with you then and there. But I'm glad you didn't ask.

I'd like to know if you have been tested for STDs. I have, and I'm fine. I'm not sure if you know that Chloe and I are not platonic friends, but she is tested regularly and there's no problem there. She also realizes that the relationship might change if I get serious with you, or anyone. But I want you to know about that before anything happens.

Also, I use birth control, so if I can trust that you are healthy then we don't have to use a condom. Which I suppose is telling you that I would like to have sex, or at least, that if you kiss me and touch me like you did today, and we're alone in your apartment, I would be quite disappointed if it did not continue.

This feels strange to write and I hope it is OK. Also, I don't want to stay over, so if we can start on the early side that would be better. It has been a long time since I woke up in a man's bed. (That's a statement, by the way, not a sneaky invitation.)

I am uncomfortable writing all this down, but weirdly it is also somehow comforting. I hope it all makes sense and that we can see each other on Thursday.

Fondly,

Rachele

PS - What should I wear?

She silenced her phone and put it on her desk to charge, and went to sleep listening to an audiobook. His answer was there in the morning, when she checked her phone on the way to brushing her teeth.

Dear Rachele,

Thank you very much for your note. Yes, I have been tested, and thank you for asking about safety and being forthright about your status and situation. I am very glad that you'll be here on Thursday. It's not a fancy evening but I'd like you to wear a skirt or a dress, and something soft on top. I appreciate that you asked.

Best,

Robert

--

She went shopping the next day for "something soft" to wear. She finally selected a silk blouse, a little bit flowy but not quite flouncy. She debated between a camisole and a bralette, but decided the camisole was too similar to the blouse, and chose the delicate white lace bralette that would just about keep her from being completely indecent under the blouse. She added a white lace thong to match.

Chloe was thrilled and joined her after work for a drink to hear the details. She described the email. "I felt very strange putting that in writing," she said. "Very exposed."

"I bet," said Chloe. "Robert is nothing if not direct."

"But it was also a relief," her friend continued, looking down. "Not having to worry about whether we would and whether he would and what he wants and asking for what I want and all that. Whether I'd have to argue about a condom."

Chloe nodded. "Good for you," she said, hugging her friend. "Do you want to come home with me?" she said.

"I would," her friend said. "But Chloe, this might get serious and I get the feeling he doesn't like to share. You and I might not be doing this much longer."

"He won't share you," Chloe said definitely. "I'll love you forever, you know that. But tonight I can still have you between my legs."

--

On Thursday night she took a cab to his place and he greeted her at the door happily, giving her a kiss and a hug and inviting her in. The apartment was one large room, facing the East River, with a balcony running alongside. To the left was the kitchen and a breakfast bar, while to the right was a door to what she assumed was the bedroom. The furniture was modern, but not cold. No aluminum, no leather upholstery.

He wore a pair of jeans, a flannel shirt, and no shoes. She kicked off her mules. He took her coat and stepped back. "Let me see," he said. She extended her arms, twirled and curtsied. "Beautiful," he said. He hung up the coat, asked her if she wanted a drink, and then and sat on the couch, asking her to sit next to him.

"I'm very glad you're here," he said. "And I appreciated your note very much."

"I'm glad too," she said. "Thank you." She looked around, asked about the apartment, and then started to speak.

"Can I ask if you were planning to ... use anything?" she said. "On me, I mean?"

He smiled, shaking his head. "It's too soon for that. And if I were, we'd already have talked about it. I wouldn't spring that on you."

She nodded. "That's nice to hear."

"But I will state some preferences, or make requests," he said. "Which you're not at this point obligated to follow, and which we can discuss as much as you like."

"Okay," she said, a note of uncertainty in her voice.

"For instance, right now, I am going to kiss you. For a while, I hope," he said, leaning towards her. She lifted her mouth and her body to him.

Only his lips touched her, then one hand, on her cheek, stroking her, his thumb brushing the opening of her mouth. That hand descended downward, along her side, reached back to lift her ass a little, then moved along the waistband of her skirt. She opened her legs but his hand went in the other direction, moving the blouse's silk fabric against her skin, then cupping her breast, lifting it, his thumb on her nipple. She lifted her hips a little more urgently and tried to pull his hips towards hers, but he broke the kiss, and held her from lifting her head and starting again. He just looked at her a moment, and then spoke.

"This is the time when I start reaching under your skirt and into your shirt and you try to undress me and we make out," he said. "I think you would not object to that?" She answered with her body, arching her back towards him.

"But I would prefer you to undress for me," he said. "I would like you to stand up and face me, and take off your blouse and your skirt."

She looked at him, then looked at the broad windows, and said "Here? Like this, now?"

"Yes," he said. "We're on the 11th floor so it's only seagulls looking at us."

"You want me to strip for you?" she asked.

"No, not at all. I don't want you to perform," he said. "I want you to undress for me."

She stood up, and began unbuttoning her blouse, but stopped. "This feels awkward," she said. "I'm sorry but I don't get it."

He nodded. "That's all right."

She stood awkwardly. The mood had passed. She'd gone from urgently aroused to uncertain and apprehensive.

He stood up and took her hand. "How about we have dinner?" he said. "I have a nice meal almost ready for us. We can talk, and it's still early."

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked. "Are you upset?"

"Not at all," he said, continuing to hold her hand. "I am very happy you're here. And you did nothing wrong. I told you we could discuss things if you needed to, and it's never wrong to stop if you don't feel safe.."

As he moved around the kitchen finishing dinner, which seemed to have been mostly prepared, she went to the bathroom and washed her face, then came back and sat on one of the stools as he worked. She started to speak, then stopped. He looked up but didn't prompt her.

Finally, she said, "I didn't feel unsafe with you."

"I'm glad to hear that," he said.

"I just didn't understand. Things were going so well, I really ... wanted you. I mean I still do, but why did you stop it? Why did you want me to stand up?"

He stopped puttering and leaned back against the counter, facing her. "We're both clear about what kind of relationship this would be, right?" he asked.

She nodded, looking away from his eyes.

"I believe in being clear and setting the tone from the start," he said. "From what you said last week you're used to working your way towards this, or needing to explain yourself. I will listen to you, but you don't have to explain, and I'm not going to start slow and wait to show you what I really want. I want to start this with both our eyes open."

She didn't say anything. He waited until she looked up. "I would prefer your clothes to come off on my instruction, as I watch, rather than them coming off in a rush. I want to savor the moment, and I want to decide the moment."

"It's awkward, though," she said. "I felt weird."

"Because I was asking you to do it intentionally rather than hiding it behind a screen of passion. Making you acknowledge that you're exposing yourself to me, because I asked you to."

"I see," she said thoughtfully. "But it feels so unnatural."

"The essence of control is to make things happen the way you want them to, not the way they usually do," he said.

"But things didn't happen," she said.

"They haven't happened yet," he said. "If they don't, that's fine. I'm being clear, but I won't rush you."

"I'm just trying to understand," she said.

"And I'm happy to explain it as much as you need," he said. "I stopped it because I would rather wait for it to happen properly, than to have it happen like that."

"Does that mean ... are we not going to ... do anything else?" she asked. "What if you undressed me?"

"That's not what I asked, but we aren't in a rush," he said. "Let's just relax and eat."

--

He wouldn't let her do anything to clean up, so she remained seated while he cleared. What he was asking felt like a lot for their first time. It made her very self-conscious. But she remembered Chloe saying, "Robert doesn't do vanilla." He wasn't a random weirdo.