The Meeting

The meeting is almost finished and I know his eyes have returned to me again and again the whole time through. He's well above me in the ranks and not someone I speak to on a regular basis - knew who he was long before he invited me into his room to learn who I was, what I did and what my thoughts were on where the current organization is going. He's got the same dark, piercing eyes today as then - looking as if he knows exactly what he wants.

For a fleeting moment I meet them only to look away almost at once, it's hard to keep eye contact with him for some reason. My stomach contracts out of pure lust, a thread connecting everything in my lower body, a thread he is pulling at his leisure. 'Damn, this is not good', flashes through my head. A smile is playing at the corners of his mouth, as if he knows what is happening inside me.

He carries himself with the ease, security and arrogance that power brings. Impeccably dressed in white shirt, tie, dark suit - despite the lingering heat of late September. I can see a hint of sweat on his forehead, the moisture creating small unruly curls in his hair. He has to be hot in here, as hot as I am. I remove a paper from the notepad on the table, fold it in half and fan myself. Trying hard to concentrate on what is said, follow the rapid discussion in French and block out the thought of his eyes.

His eyes are scanning the legs under the table, stop at mine and move from the shoes up to the hem lying across my thighs. I shiver. It makes me feel slightly uncomfortable - seen and at the mercy of his eyes. Move slightly in an attempt to get the hem closer to my knees when I notice the almost imperceptible shake of the head and stop. My cheeks are glowing. I breathe out a short puff of air over the nose and forehead to cool off. It doesn't help, the heat wave spreads throughout the body, centering on the hot ball in my stomach. I cross the legs in a vain attempt to stop what is happening.

As the ball explodes, spreading its warmth throughout the body the folded paper floats down towards the floor and the feet of the chair squeak as I involuntarily move. Sweat gather at the nape of the neck, underneath the hair and I lightly bite my lower lip to keep quiet. My nipples are erect, longing to be released from their confining clothes. The wetness pools between my legs. A quick glance at the laughter in his eyes makes me realize that he has seen, understood and with that knows exactly how he affects me.

"Mme. Landrie, are you alright?"

The heavy Italian accent of my immediate boss is filled with concern.

"Yes, yes, M. Mazzini, just this late summer heat making me a bit dizzy. I will go get some water from the fountain outside."

My legs feel shaky as I stand up and move towards the door. The air in the corridor is slightly cooler and I greedily lap it up, feeling the pulse return to near normal. Bathrooms are empty, the mirror revealing my flushed cheeks and neck. Cold water running over the wrists only make the bulging veins on my hands reduce somewhat in size. The whole body is still tingling as I quickly reapply some of the lipstick that has gone missing.

Getting back inside my colleagues are already gathering their papers, rising and heading for the door. I move towards my spot to collect the papers, laptop and suitcase. As I push in the chair the heat of another body closes in on mine. Too close to be a coincidence or a purely professional distance. His scent is heavy, masculine, intoxicating. I try to move forward but am stopped by his hand on my elbow. The touch is almost electric, spreading throughout the body.

"Ma petite... comment ça va?"

He is close enough that I can almost feel his breath on my neck. The voice is low and smooth; no one can hear him but myself. Somewhere there is an undertone I'm not able to pinpoint. Demanding? Appreciating? Wanting? The hairs at the back of my neck rise - hungry, afraid, willing, a bit ashamed, ready. The heart picks up pace again. I nod and feel my cheeks flush again.

"Oui monsieur, je vais bien."

"Bon, vous ne pouvez pas vous évanouir."

I can feel his body lightly touching mine as he moves away and a low friendly chuckle fills the air. The heat lingers in my skin, almost burning. As I get out I see his back moving away from me in the corridor. I follow him, feel the need to explain myself and desperately search the brain for french words - this was never something they taught in language school. Frown at the confusion inside and my brain stumbling over itself - both with the language and the situation. I reach him and his secretary at the far end of the corridor just in time to catch the last words of their conversation.

"...pourrais-tu commander un taxi? Je doir être a l'aéroport dans deux heures."

"Ah, Mme. Landrie. Vous avez besoin d'un taxi aussi? Je me rappelle vous allez revenir cet aprés-midi."

"Oui, mon vol est à six heure."

"Bon, venez avec mon taxi."

Our eyes meet and it's not just a suggestion. I see the unspoken demand to come, know that I have to follow, can't do anything but follow. Brain still screaming at me that this is a bad idea and I should move far away, now - but the body has taken on a life of its own, separated from free will and reasoning. He removes the laptop case from my shoulder and takes my bag in the other hand. The heels of my shoes feel thin and unsteady when I try to keep pace behind him as he walks quickly towards the front desk.

The taxi is already waiting at the main gate. He puts down the bags by the trunk, opens the door and helps me into the backseat. No room for questions, no room for hesitation. His eyes track the movement of my hand as I try to keep the hem from riding up when I step in. That same almost imperceptible head shake as before. I remove the hand, blush and feel something stirring between my legs again.

The door closes with a muffled thud and I hear him talk to the driver, probably giving directions. A couple of seconds later he's beside me on the other side of the backseat. There's still a distance between us with the empty third spot separating. I keep my eyes planted at the seat in front of me, knowing that if I look him in the eyes again I will lose what small part of self-control I still have. Then his hand under my cheek, turning and lifting so have no choice but to look straight at him. The fire burning behind the eyes is almost hypnotizing.

"Understand this - one day you will belong to me, body and soul. You can try to hide your true nature, like you did earlier today and like you are doing now. Don't ma petite! Let it out, let me guide you, let me take you to places in mind and body where you have never been before."

The change to English surprises me. His words even more so. The voice is calm, almost soft but the tone leaves no doubt as to the seriousness behind. My nipples stiffen again, pushing against the clothes. A jolt of electricity spreads from my stomach out through the body.

He removes the jacket and throws it on the right side of the seat as he moves over to the middle. The arm is heavy and warm as it drapes over my shoulders, his fingers light and gentle as they walk up my thigh, disappear in under my skirt. They find the soaked underwear between my legs.

The coarse curls rasp against my temple and his breath quickens beside my ear. His erection is moving under the dark suit pants. Two fingers push the underwear away and slide inside, pressing hard up towards my stomach. Three next, a bit rougher this time and I yelp silently, both at the stretch and the sudden feeling of fullness. His hand lightly covers my mouth

"Shush ma petite. You need to accept this first. Remember my promise - places for your mind and body where they have never been before."

I nod, give in to the feeling and let his hands guide me forward. The fingers moving slowly in and out, his thumb massaging me. My face twists together as yet another orgasm rolls through the body, moaning silently into the hand over my mouth. I catch the eyes of the driver in the rearview mirror for a split second - his gaze is embarrassed and curious at the same time. The impact of the scene hits me full force - this man is high-profile and it is a small town.

"Arrêtez, s'il vous plait."

The building is non-descript, on the outskirts of town. A small cottage that looks as if it once belonged to some nearby farm. The door clicks as he unlocks it and his hand gestures for me to get inside. Once in it's dark and blinding when coming from the sunshine outside but when the eyes get used to it the interior is sparse and clean. Bed, desk, a sofa, some rugs on the floor, small kitchen with a dining table, closed door that most likely leads to a bathroom.

"My overnight cottage when I work here which is most of the week. My wife and three children still live in our Paris apartment."

Of course he's married, but I know the French and their attitude towards affairs - anything that does not happen in your hometown can be seen through the fingers with. Still feels strange, I've managed to avoid anyone with a family before, at least as far as I'm aware of. My thoughts stop dead in their tracks as he moves up behind me, his hands folding away the hair, his lips on my neck and his body pressing into mine. The erection pushes into the small of my back, so hard it must almost be painful for him.

I hear his belt buckle unfasten, the sound of the zipper pulled down and his trousers falling to the floor. His hands lift my skirt, grab hold of my underwear and pull them off - quickly, impatiently. I try to turn but am nailed to the wall by the weight of his body. My hands held up above my head by one of his. He's gliding over my buttocks, burning hot, searching for where to enter.

One of his hands move down to help guide him and he drives into me with one swift move. I'm so wet he slides in with just the tiniest bit of resistance. The size and the electric charge inside as he hits bottom takes my breath away - he is by far the largest man I have ever felt inside me. Suddenly his comment in the taxi clicks in place.

A growling sound is all I am able to produce - more animal than human. I can feel him move back and forth pushing himself further against the back wall, the slight movement in itself is enough to take me to the brink of another orgasm. He notices, stops, pulls out and teases me. I buck my hips toward him, want to have more, need to have more.

"Please, don't stop..."

My voice breaks before I'm able to finish the sentence. I feel him slide all the way in again, staying inside me. His hands grab hold of my hair, pulling my head back against him as he thrusts into me with long, slow strokes, as far in as he will go. He stops again.

"Did I say you could take down your hands?"

The steely tone in his voice makes my heart flutter. I quickly raise my hands above the head again, in the same position he put them.

"Well done ma petite, you are a fast learner."

The hands bend my head to one side, teeth biting down on my exposed neck, lips locking against the flesh and drawing blood towards the surface. There will be a mark there tomorrow, the thought of others seeing it and knowing what put it there is not disturbing, just brings me even closer. I hear his chuckle right beside my ear.

"This turns you on my darling, doesn't it? And since you're such a good girl I'll make you happy - this time..."

"Please... More... I need more... Please..."

I barely recognize my own voice in the hoarse whisper coming out of my mouth. The orgasm starts low in my belly, pulls everything together and builds to a flood wave rolling throughout the body. My contractions strong enough to make him swell up even bigger, thrust in hard, groaning and throbbing as he comes deep inside me. He pulls out, still semi-hard against my buttocks and leans the weight of his body into mine. His voice fills my head.

"This is only the beginning of our time together, ma petite. You're mine and you know it in your heart. You've known it since the first time I laid eyes on you haven't you?"