The Bleakest of Seasons Pt. 02

'Hey.' You say back, no other response coming to mind.

Scott just rubs you and holds you and lets his touch do all the talking. He just relentlessly massages your neck and head and skull until the sadness starts to drip away from you.

You sigh. Maybe you're still just too... fucked up for this. Maybe it's still too soon. Maybe you need to just give up on finding your happiness and your hopes and your trust.

Scott leans forward and nuzzles your neck, then he whispers in your ear. It isn't what you're expecting to hear.

'I have more oranges. Would you like another glass of fresh squeezed orange juice?'

You smile. That orange juice was really tasty.

You look back at him and smile. He squeezes your shoulder and nudges you towards the counter and you both walk over to his little kitchenette.

A glass is retrieved, ice is inserted, and fruit is viciously murdered for your thirst.

It's delicious.

He pours himself a coffee, sits with you at the kitchenette on a tall stool. He runs his hand up and down your back as you drink, which is nearly as pleasant (Although still a distant second...) to the juice he just made for you.

If he put vodka in this, you think you might have to marry him. Except you think that, and you remember, and it makes you sad again.

He sees your expression change and the smile leaves your lips.

'Hey, you know you still get a treat right?' He says hopefully, trying to distract you.

You think about that for the moment.

'Ok.' You whisper.

You pull the glass to your lips and slug back the rest of the orange juice in a sweet, refreshing deluge that slides down your throat effortlessly. It feels kind of wasteful to slam it back and not savour it, but you suspect that all you have to do is ask and more will be made for you.

You take Scott by the hand, and pull him away from the kitchenette and back to the bed.

'Uh..' He says, and you shush him.

You point to the bed.

'Lay down.' You order.

'Hey now, you don't call the shots.' Scott argues.

'You promised me a treat if I was a good girl. I was. Did you lie?' You say, waggling a finger at him.

'No... I did not lie...' He starts, a little confused.

'Bed. Now! Addie wants her treat!' You stomp your foot like a petulant child.

Scott gapes at you for a second, then throws up his hands in mock surrender. You point at the bed firmly, and he sits down on the bed and then reclines back with his hands under his head.

You nod, then lean down and yank down the cotton sleep pants he's been wearing as he worked on servers and networks and IP stuff that kept him away from you and what you wanted earlier this morning. How dare he be responsible and remain employed while your needs were not met?

'Don't you move Scott! You just lay there and relax.'

He starts to protest and you silence him with one word and a pointed finger.

'Treat!' You bark at him, and he chuckles and the mock surrender appears again.

Wow, you really can mold him like putty when he thinks you're sad.

You wish you'd taken a moment to clean yourself up, fix your hair and run a cloth over your face. But you'd decided to seize this moment if possible and he let you have it, so your mind is spinning with what you want to do.

There's really only one thing you want to do though, and you decide to do it.

You climb on top of him, suddenly hungry for him. He reaches out for you and you stop him with that stern finger and that all powerful word.

'Treat! Don't make me tell you again old man!' You say with sternness that you didn't think you could ever invoke.

'I gotta say... I want you pretty bad right now.' He says with passion. His nostrils flare and you can feel him stiffen below you.

You lean down and whisper in his ear.

'Don't move. This is my treat. If you move or stop me or ruin this I'll consider this a broken promise.'

You pause, almost afraid to ask the question, but you have to.

'Do you want to break your promise?'

'No.' He says quickly in a strangled voice.

You smile. He's yours.

He's a dominant, sadistic, vicious fucking machine and he hates giving up control. But he's giving it to you. Right now.

You cautiously drag yourself over his groin, your lips parting to allow the sudden slickness within you to slide easily down his shaft. You lean down while doing so to nuzzle his chest and gently kiss and nibble on his nipple.

His mouth opens and closes and you hear the tiniest gasp from his as he literally claws at the pillow. It's taking everything he has to do what you asked and just hold still for you.

You decide to reward him for that. You slide forward and wrap your hands around his face and hold him still so that you can press your lips to his and kiss his stubbled face. He kisses you back with a surprising intensity.

You work your way back down his chin and drag your lips across his neck and just lightly drag your nipples across his chest. His skin prickles with goose bumps and he pulls at the pillow.

You feel him against your leg, he's rock hard and throbbing.

Good.

You continue your downward path, kissing and nuzzling his chest, savouring his scent and exploring his body. You tease and torment him, exploring his body and learning the things that drive him into frenzy.

He nearly breaks the one time, his hands thrusting into the air as you slide your tongue around his navel as your fingers tickle his pulsing manhood. He reaches for you, and you slap his hand away and bark the all consuming word of power that he cannot help but obey.

'TREAT!'

'Chrisssssssst!' He pants, and then he grabs the pillow and pulls it over his face so that he can scream without it shattering the windows.

You grin. You could get to like this. If this is what it's like for him when he plays your body like a violin then you completely understand it.

Abruptly you slide fully down his body, dragging your diamond hard nipples across his unbelievably erect phallus. You press it to your face and drag your fingernails up and down his sensitive skin. The tip flexes at your ministrations and a drop of clear sticky fluid slides out of him.

You can't help yourself, your slide your mouth onto him and take as much of him into you as you can. You tongue slides around him and you start to felate him skilfully, forcefully, mercilessly.

Sometimes you lack confidence in things. Sometimes you doubt yourself. Sometimes you wonder if you're ever going to be whole again.

But this, this act, this one thing, you have no doubt in this. You've made men beg before for your tongue and your touch. Scott for all his prowess is proving no different.

Due to the fact that for once he is not controlling the situation, he may be even easier to manipulate this way.

And you continue to do so, using your lips and tongue skilfully to extract every last once of pleasure from him. Your fingers cup his genitals gently, squeezing and massaging and you let copious amounts of saliva spill from your mouth as you bob up and down on him.

It almost feels cruel using him like this. He has no defence against these kind of ministrations and you're just relentless. You drag him again and again to the brink of release and then ease off until he shudders under your touch and fights not to buck and howl.

After a measly ten minutes, he's reduced to a gibbering, panting wreck, and you decide to hang him out on that limb for another five minutes.

You're not angry with him, or even spiteful, but you do want him to feel, just once, what it's like to have no control as someone drags every ounce of pleasure from your flesh.

Also, it's really fun.

As he lies on the bed, gripping his hair with his eyes screwed shut and teeth gritted, you finally decide to release him from this. You take him fully into your mouth and press your tongue against the base of his shaft and drag it slowly up until he's nearly out of you entirely, then you abruptly start to rapidly bob up and down upon the head of his manhood while your hand rapidly strokes the shaft.

It takes less than a minute. He goes rigid and fights not to buck as he emits an animal sound.

'GGGNNNNNRRRRGGGHHHHHHH!' tears out from behind gritted teeth.

At the same time he erupts in your mouth, and the thick white seed explodes across your tongue and oral cavity. His taste is heavy and musky, and you swirl him in your mouth for a moment before you swallow him.

You slow down, and flick your tongue over the tip of his penis and continue to stroke up and down with your fist, extracting the last drops of his orgasm from his still ridiculously hard member. You delight in rubbing your face against him, literally painting your own face with his ejaculate.

He's hot and sticky and trembling on the bed, eyes still slammed shut and his hands pulling at his hair.

You begin to creep up his body, the same tongue and mouth that you used on him so skilfully now extracting little gasps and moans from his as he lays there and twitches, still trying to be your Treat as you demanded.

Finally, after fully exploring his body with your tongue and mouth, you creep up his chest, tasting the thin film of sweat that he exuded while you worked him without respite.

His heart pounds in his chest. It satisfies you to feel it so.

Finally, you've crept all the way up his longish, soft frame and gently pull his earlobe between your teeth and nibble.

He sighs, exhausted.

'Was that a good treat?'

'That... That was... fantastic. Holy... mother of... God... that was .... Intense.' He pants as he tries to speak.

'Was that not what you had in mind?' You purr into his ear.

'Was... just.... Just gonna... take you out to break... fast.'

You laugh in his ear. Clearly he had not been expecting this.

He chuckles as well between gasps, and then says the magic words that finally push away any lingering sadness from the stupid dream.

'Your idea.... Was .... Was way better.'

You laugh again, and he finally snakes an arm around your head and pulls you to him. You kiss him passionately and he returns the favour as he fights for every bit of oxygen he can suck in.

And as he gasps and tries to kiss you back, you think one thing.

Treats. You're going to need him to give you more treats.

Lots more.

You lay with Scott for a while, relaxed and comfortable and enjoying the sensation of having turned the tables on him for once. There's no conversation, just you enjoying him sprawled on the bed with you.

You have a small urge to ride on him, but you repress it and just cuddle with him. He let you encroach on his realm once; you don't want to try it again.

Not just yet anyways.

After a time, you both get out of bed and get dressed. You slide into another oversized t-shirt and slide the comfy toms on, as well as a pair of his workout shorts. He slides into some battered jeans and a short sleeved button shirt and futzes with his hair until he gives up in frustration and just plasters it flat with some gel and a sigh.

You smile and slide behind him as he battles with his hairstyle and loses. You run your fingers through his hair and tease and muss his hair so that it looks relatively styled, or at least better than his previous ode to hair gel.

'Thank you. I'm terrible at that.'

'I would never have guessed that.' You say with a smile. He smirks back at you in the mirror.

'Wanna get some food?'

'I could use some breakfast. I feel like I've completed a couple of intense workouts over the last couple of days.' That thought brings an even bigger smile to your face.

For the first time in a long time you feel truly sated. You body aches, but it's a pleasant ache. Your head is clear, and your thoughts aren't cluttered with frantic little desires demanding you slake them.

You feel good. Great actually, and it's because this lumpy, chubby older guy with bad hair has focused everything he has on your needs for a weekend.

What a weekend.

You run a hand down his back, and resist the urge to take his hand and lead him back to bed. You feel almost addicted to him now, his way of taking charge when you need him to, the way he attends to your needs, the way he lets go and lets you do what you need to do when you need to do it.

He doesn't anticipate your every need. In fact, he's blown a few signals completely, but he tries, really tries to be what you need, when you need it.

And he likes you. He really does.

He sees you watching him in the mirror. You realize that your gaze is pretty intense so you look down, a little embarrassed.

'You ok?' He asks.

'I... don't want this to end.' You answer, surprised at how easily this comes out.

He nods, turns and slips a hand around your neck and pulls you to him. You wrap your arms around his hips and hug him to you.

'I don't want this to end either... but...'

'But?' You ask, slightly terrified of the answer.

'But you already took a day off from work, and I have my son coming over Wednesday to Friday.'

'Oh.' You hug him tight. Is that it?

'... but I can see you on Sunday. Are you free Sunday?'

'What's happening on Saturday?'

'Uh... well... I have a prior engagement this Saturday.'

He's nervous suddenly. Why is he nervous?

'Why are you nervous?' You ask him with the least subtle line of questioning you can imagine.

He sighs.

Fuck.

Is there someone else? Is there another woman? His wife?

'I am working at Club S this weekend.... And I committed to topping someone that evening.'

'Oh. Are you... do... are...' You stammer, unsure how to ask the question.

'No, we do not have sex. Ever. She just needs pain, a lot of it, and she trusts me.'

You process that for a moment.

'Why didn't you tell me this before?'

'Addie, in all seriousness, how would I tell you about this? We've been fucking like rabbits for three straight days, working through emotional stuff together that scares the crap out of me and testing your limits. I think we pushed the boundaries pretty hard over the last 72 hours, wouldn't you say?'

Well, yes, but...

'Do you want to come to the club with me?'

'What?'

'Do you want to come to the club with me? I'll show you everything. If you want to see my dark side... this is about as dark as I get.'

This is intriguing. He's really not trying to hide this, it just hasn't come up. You still have questions about this though.

'So are you like... some kind of ... man ...whore?' You blurt out, attempting to secure the world record for most awkward phrasing ever.

He bursts out laughing.

You smile weakly at him. This conversation is confusing.

'No. God no. Nobody is paying me to fuck them. Good god that's funny.'

'So what exactly do you... how... I'm confused.'

'Addie, club S is a... private club for some very wealthy and very connected people with very exotic tastes and a strong desire for privacy. I work for them part time as an administrator and for some of their clientele. It helps me pay for things like child support, legal fees and occasionally lets me repair my car when it breaks down yet again.'

'Oh.'

'You're freaking out.'

'Just a little.'

'Addie, I was involved in this and made my commitments to this evening long before I even met you for Sushi. I didn't know you were going to happen. I didn't even dream you could happen. I'm not hiding anything. Come and see it, see me, meet my friends. They'll like you.'

'How do you know that?'

'Because I like you, and my friends aren't stupid. They'll like you too.'

You just hug him for a minute.

Dammit! Everything was going so well. Just once, you'd like to have a nice relationship with no drama. No unsuspected surprises.

You'd also like to sprout wings and fly, but that's not going to happen either.

'Ok... I'll go.'

'You don't sound enthused.'

'M'not. Scared.' You hug him tighter. PLEASE don't let this fuck things up you think to yourself.

'Addie, c'mon... there's a fun part to this that I haven't told you about.'

'Fun how exactly?' You ask with a raised, suspicious eyebrow.

'We have to dress up.' Scott says with a smile.

You look at him blankly.

'Really dress up.' He says, still excited for you.

'What exactly do you mean by 'really dress up' exactly?' You ask, now interested but still concerned.

Scott smiles and pulls his cell phone out of his holster on his pants and dials a number. It rings, and a moment later someone picks up.

'Hi Melody, it's Scott.'

'Yes, I'm glad to hear from you too. Do you have a moment to talk?'

There's a pause.

'Well I can call back, you're negotiating with someone...'

Another pause, Scott grins.

'Oh, it's one of *those* negotiations. I see.'

You hear the woman talking to Scott, but he just grins and nods.

'Wow. Remind me to never piss you off Melody.'

She laughs clearly through the phone. You feel a little intimidated. Scott seems to defer to her a little bit, which you can barely imagine him doing.

'Mels, I'll be quick, so you can get back to obliterating this poor bastard. I have a date for Saturday.'

The voice sounds concerned.

'We're still on Mel. I wouldn't leave you hanging.'

He pauses. Then he rolls his eyes.

'You know what I mean Melody. Listen, I was thinking about bringing her to the club, for a meet and greet.'

'Yes, she knows all about me.' Scott says calmly. 'This is about the last thing I have left to show her.'

Another pause, she asks him some questions that you can't make out.

'Yeah, she's going to need some wardrobe. Can I beg, borrow or steal some of Dominic's time for her?'

Who the heck is Dominic? Why does Scott need his help? Why do you need 'wardrobe'?

'White Melody. Definitely white.'

White? He is going to have to answer sooooo many questions when he hangs up that phone.

'Ok, sure... and what's this going to cost me?'

The voice on the other end says something and Scott rolls his eyes.

'Fine. I'll fix the server cluster in St. Paul for you. You know Melody, you really do need to get some competent technicians working for you.'

She says something else and then laughs. Scott laughs too.

'Nice try Melody, but I am never going to be your bitch. You on the other hand.... will be seeing me on Saturday.' He says with just a hint of menace.

That tone of voice makes you nervous. He sounds like before, when you begged him to show you his darker side and stop holding back. He did and you regretted it. You're glad he stopped playing with you like that, but it makes you nervous that he can speak or think like that.

On the other hand, he does all those other things sooooo very well.

You realize you're hugging him tightly. You ease up a little as he rubs your back.

Scott bids the woman he called goodbye and focuses his attention on you.

'Got you an invite, and got you some new... clothing.' He says with a smile.

'Great. Where the heck are we going again?'

'Club S.'

'And this is some kind of... sex club?'

'Yes... and no. It's a private club for people with... certain tastes. I certainly don't meet the wealth criteria, but I have a skill set that these folks appreciate.'

'And you're not some kind of Man whore.'

'I am not Deuce Bigelow, no. Nobody really wants to see me naked but you.'

'Well, I don't know if I'd go that far... ' You say with a grin.

'You are so mean to me!' Scott says with mock outrage. And then he suddenly starts to tickle you.

You shriek and squirm out of his grasp and scoot around the table. Scott chases you around the table laughing diabolically. You complete four circuits staying just ahead of him as he wiggles his fingers at you. Finally he vaults on top of the table and lunges at you, but trips over the edge and smacks his forehead off the side of the table.

'Sonofabitch!' He growls and holds his hands to his forehead.