The Switch Ch. 07

His depression seemed a distant memory. This was the beautiful, simple life he'd always wanted to have. It didn't matter if he was never tied up again. Never forced to surrender. Never the one to take control and drag a woman, kicking and screaming, into his bedroom. The excitement of kinky sex could never compete with the wonder of making love.

And he loved Aimee. He loved her so much he felt he might explode with the sheer joy of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were getting a rare night together.

They'd spent Saturday afternoon - New Year's Eve - at Val's parents house. His folks wanted to see Bella, and the kids were keen to go in the pool. Several of Valery's nephews and nieces were also visiting, and the kids had a blast. They were enjoying themselves so much that they'd all protested when they were told it was time to go home.

'They can all stay over,' Yuliya had offered. 'They can stay up and see in the new year. It'll be fun.'

The children were so keen on this idea that none of the parents dared argue. The only stipulation had been that kids all stay out of the pool unless they were being supervised, and all of them swore to obey. Aimee and Val didn't quite believe them, but the kids were all good swimmers.

'So,' Val remarked, as he and Aimee drove home alone. 'What should we do?'

She grinned. 'I don't know. Get stoned, have a long, uninterrupted bath together, and order pizza?'

'Pfft. Order pizza. Don't you trust me to make pizza?'

'Sure I do, but weren't you just saying how sick you were of cooking for two kids who turned their noses up at everything you made?'

'Exactly. That's why I want to cook tonight; I want to do it for someone who'll actually appreciate it.'

She laughed at that. He smiled, happy and content, ready to take her home, feed her, and do bad things to her. A single night's freedom from their respective children was more than sufficient for what he wanted.

'So, has Ben been behaving while he's been with you?' Aimee asked.

'He has.' Val confirmed. 'It's been good for Bella. She asked this week if she could start coming up to visit, instead of me flying down. Her mother and I were actually discussing something similar recently. She's getting older and she doesn't need to see me for a day every month to remember who I am. Plus, she's starting to have hobbies and friends. We were thinking that it might be better if she comes up for a long weekend, or full week, four or so times a year.'

'What do you think?'

He shrugged. 'It's a good idea but I feel guilty about it.'

'Why?'

'Because flying down and staying in a motel and renting a car costs a fortune. Every month it costs four or five hundred. I can't help but wonder if my enthusiasm is related to saving a fair chunk of money.'

'Of course it would be,' she said bluntly. 'But that's not a bad thing, right? She's going to need braces. You and her mother will be up for that cost, so why not reorganise custody in a way that saves you money and suits everyone better? Ben loves hanging out with her.'

'I don't know. I just feel shitty about it. I don't want her to think I don't care.'

Aimee snorted. 'Trust me, I grew up with a father who worked cash in hand for most of his life to avoid paying child support, and never bothered to see me. If I thought you were a shitty father who didn't care, I wouldn't be here.'

That was probably true. Aimee was incredibly protective of Ben, more so than she actually let on. Val's father had made a comment about it, and his mother had snapped back with an incredulous 'but her husband died! The child is the only thing she had left', which made complete sense to everyone present, and reminded Val that Aimee was different to other women.

His personal phone rang and he answered it through the car's Bluetooth speaker system.

'Val,' Miles said. 'What are you doing tonight?'

Val glanced at Aimee. She raised her eyebrows suggestively and grinned.

'Aimee and I were going to have a quiet night in,' Val replied.

'What?' Miles asked.

'Aimee and I are going to have a quiet night in. Get baked. Make and eat a pizza.'

'I thought that's what you said,' Miles replied. 'Christ, what the fuck happened to you? Are you trying to bore her to death? I thought you liked her. How about you take her to my place. I've got some people coming around.'

'You need someone to cook,' Val guessed aloud.

'Bingo! I also need to save your relationship before she wonders why the hell she was ever with someone who's slowly sliding into a world where missionary sex twice a week becomes exciting. Remember when you...'

'...Do you mind?' Val interrupted sharply. 'She's in the car with me.'

Miles cleared his throat. 'Aimee?'

'Yes?' she asked.

'Does the thought of missionary sex twice a week excite you?'

'Oh for fuck's sake,' Val swore. 'Miles, I'll call you back when I get home.'

Before Miles had a chance to respond, Val pressed the 'end call' button on his steering wheel. The last thing he needed was Miles giving Aimee an enlightening insight into his life as it was before she came along. That shit was in the past.

Aimee glanced at him as they pulled into his driveway. 'So, do you want to go tonight? I can go home and rummage up a dress and heels.'

It was messy time of year. People drank way too much. They tried to coerce anyone and everyone to go to bed with them. Workmates who'd been flirting all year ended up sleeping together. And that was only vanilla people; Val didn't want to think about what some of his old friends would be getting up to.

'No,' Val replied. 'I told you; I'm done with that. Besides, it's now ten past four. The shops close in less than an hour. Even if I was going to run down to Coles and buy supplies, it'd be tight.'

'It'd be fun,' Aimee countered.

Val shook his head. 'No.'

'When we first met, you said that one day you'd tell me how kinky you were. Now you just act like nothing ever happened. But something must have.' She chewed on her fingernail. 'Why don't you want to do things with me?'

Aimee was dressed in a pair of white shorts and a yellow singlet. Her red hair was tied back in a ponytail and she only wore light make-up. On her lap was the a plate of piroshki that his mother had made for her. His family adored her. He adored her. There was no way in hell he was taking her to Miles' house.

'Because, contrary to what Miles said, I'd love to have missionary sex with you twice a week,' he said. 'Okay, not twice a week. Five or six times a week would be better. But my point stands; I don't need to do anything exotic with you.'

She opened the door and carefully carried her piroshki out. 'What if I want to do something exotic with you? I've done the whole 'missionary sex twice a week' thing. Miles wasn't kidding; that's how it gets to be. It's boring. It's nothing more than masturbating with a breathing sex aid.'

They walked towards the house. A cat came and wound itself around Aimee's leg, obviously keen on getting as close to the food as possible.

'Do I bore you?' he asked suddenly. 'Am I lousy in bed?'

'No! Of course not. But I don't want you to be bored with me. Please, let's go along.'

He sighed. He sensed she wasn't going to give in. 'Fine. I'll go and cook. You stay in the kitchen with me until I'm done, though, okay?'

She smiled. 'I have no problems with that.'

They went inside, and Aimee put the piroshki in the fridge while Val called Miles and established what exactly would be going on tonight, and what Miles required.

Miles was triumphant. Val was fucking terrified. Last year he was single and had shown up to Miles' New Year's Eve party in drag. His blood ran cold at the thought of her finding out about that little habit of his. He'd have to get rid of his outfits, heels, underwear and fake tits when Aimee moved in. He could just imagine her reaction if she found out. Numerous women had made it abundantly clear that there was nothing sexy about a man in a dress.

Miles didn't expect much in the way of catering. His directive was simple 'just buy food. I'll get the money off everyone to pay you back'. Less than an hour later, Val was standing in Miles' kitchen, unpacking. Aimee was at her apartment, having a shower and getting dressed in what she called 'something suitable' and what Val suspected would be 'something that covered a lot more flesh than what the other female guests would be revealing'.

'What do I owe you?' Miles asked.

Val told him, and handed over the receipt. Miles made a comment about not needing proof, and handed over the cash. Val pocketed it gratefully. Miles had a shitload of money; Val didn't. It was one of the many reasons he was so careful around Aimee. He knew he didn't have much going for him. He had an accent. He was Muslim. He didn't earn an impressive amount of money. He didn't have a big dick. He had depression, although, thank God, that was in the wings for now. Somehow, though, she seemed to like him.

'I fucking love these things,' Miles remarked, grabbing a piroshki.

Aimee had taken the party as a good way to offload some of the sixteen piroshkis his mother had gifted her. She'd confessed that there was no way that she and Ben would be able to get through them, and he'd sympathised. His mother was a feeder.

'My mother keeps giving Aimee food,' Val grinned. 'She's trying to bribe her to hang around.'

'It'd work for me.' Miles leant against the counter. 'Does it work for her?'

'It seems to.'

Miles went to the fridge and removed two beers. He opened both, and handed one to Val. Val took it cautiously. There was a question coming, and he was afraid what it might be. Miles was more direct than Samara and Oliver.

'So what's your little vanilla woman like in bed?' Miles inquired.

Val's skin prickled. He didn't want to answer. He was so defensive of Aimee, so protective. She was his, fuck it. He didn't want people passing judgement on her. 'She's good,' he said cautiously.

'Is she coming tonight?' Miles pressed.

'It was her idea,' Val admitted. 'I've told her to stay in the kitchen with me.'

'Why? Miles was puzzled. 'Shouldn't this be exactly what you want?'

He shook his head and took a long swallow of beer. 'I'm leaving this shit behind, Miles. I need to grow up. I like her. I don't want anything to fuck with that.'

'You think this isn't synonymous with being an adult? You think that because you want to do the family thing with her that you have to be boring? Are you kidding? Look at the age range of people in this group. We're all thirty or older. Tons of us have kids.'

'Your kids are grown up. It must've been different when they were babies.'

Miles sighed and leant on the bench. 'Val, my marriage nearly ended when my kids were toddlers. This 'shit' as you put it, saved it. You want to know the biggest things that cause issues with marriages? Money and sex. We didn't have either, back in those days. Just when I thought we were doomed, the wife sent the kids off to her mother's for the weekend.

We had no money to go anywhere or do anything, so we stayed at home and talked. She said she had some fantasies, about being tied up and enslaved... We gave it a go. It became our thing, our secret. We reconnected. You need to have that connection, mate, or nothing else matters. You have to remember to make time for each other, and to try and meet their needs.'

Val shrugged. 'I can do that without kink.'

'Mm, really?' Miles raised an eyebrow. 'Do you want a partner, or do you want an oven for a baby?'

'That's a pretty shit way of putting it.'

'That's how you're starting to come across.'

Val finished his beer. 'I need to get started on dinner. I'm already well behind.'

Miles gave him a long, hard look. 'Well, I'll get out of your way. I appreciate you coming at short notice.'

~~~~~~~~

Valery wanted her to stay in the kitchen, but he didn't trust her to touch a thing. In fact, her presence seemed to be annoying him, so when Oliver stuck his head in and said 'hello', she took it as an opportunity to escape.

Oliver looked like a man who was out to pick up. He was obviously sufficiently past the shock of his marriage ended, and the urge to get close to someone warm and willing was apparent. Nonetheless, he was happy to provide her with company, and she went out into the living area with him to mingle.

'You look terrified,' Oliver remarked.

She forced a smile. 'Maybe,' she agreed.

Oliver looked completely at ease. He was the stereotypical good-looking man in a suit, everything well tailored and modern, and his hair perfectly cut. She wasn't half as well dressed, even though God knows she'd tried. Her day to day work wear was jogging shoes, shorts and the centre's standard-issue polo, so dressing up was always an effort. Aimee was pretty sure that tonight's red dress, which she'd bought for her work Christmas party, didn't quite fit the theme.

'Why? What do you think is going to happen?' Oliver inquired.

'I don't know. That's the problem.' She bit her lip. 'What's he like? Val, I mean. Does he, uh, you know... ' She trailed off, her face flushing with embarrassment. She couldn't even say 'submissive' or 'dominant'.

He stared at her quizzically. 'Why don't you ask him?'

'He won't tell me. I've tried asking him via text, because I thought maybe writing it would be less weird, but he won't tell me.'

Before Oliver had a chance to reply, Miles approached them, beer in hand. Aimee vaguely recognised him from the last party, but she hadn't really spoken to him.

'Aimee?' Miles guessed.

'Correct. Miles?' she replied

'Correct,' he smiled. 'Aimee, what the hell has happened to Val? He used to be the life of the party. Now he's telling me he's leaving the second he's finished cooking.'

'I think I'm throwing him off his game,' she replied as casually as she could. 'I'm making him nervous. I was just asking Oliver a few pointed questions about what he might be interested in. I should really find Samara. Is she coming tonight?'

Miles shook her head. 'The boy's taken her up to Cairns on his motorcycle. Good luck to both of them. I personally prefer my limbs attached to my body.'

'They're insane,' Oliver agreed. 'If they'd been to some of the fatals I've attended, they'd have a totally different outlook.'

They launched into a conversation about motorcycles and the relative risk of injury. As someone who's husband had been killed crossing a road, she was uncomfortable with the overly gory explanations Oliver was giving, so she made her excuses and headed back to the kitchen to check on Val. She sat at the breakfast bar and stared at him. He seemed significantly calmer now that he was close to serving up.

'What's it like out there?' he asked.

'There's a woman who's completely naked. Oh, except for a collar and a leash. Other than that, I'd say it's like any other party.'

'Do you want to go home?' he asked, taking a stack of plates out of a warmer.

'No. I want to know what you like sexually. Where you fit into this.'

He leant over the bench top and kissed her quickly. 'I don't.'

'See, that's bullshit. You did. Or do. Tell me. Were you like Oliver? Did you like submissive women? Or do you like to be the submissive one? I can't imagine Samara letting anyone dominate her, but on the other hand, I can't imagine you on your knees like the boy was, either.'

'Aimee, let it go.'

'No.' She stared at him. 'Tell me. I hate this. I feel like the stupid, ignorant child that everyone's laughing at.'

'You're not anything like that,' he replied roughly. 'Go and get Miles. Tell him to get everyone seated. I'm almost done here.'

He refused to meet her eye. She stared down at her shoes - so modest and childish compared to the shoes the other women wore - and her pink toenails. He didn't think she could do what it was that he wanted.

She went and found Miles. Told him that dinner was ready. She went back to the kitchen, and took the meals out as Val plated up. Without Val asking, or her offering, they'd implicitly agreed that she'd waitress.

When everyone was served, she went back to the kitchen and sat down. Val was working on dessert. It was only a two course meal, given the late notice he'd had to prepare a menu and prep for service, and she knew that he was aiming to be out of here in an hour. The moment they left, her last chance to find out what he wanted would be gone. She knew he had no plans on returning here. This was his last foray into the world of BDSM. His last hurrah.

Val checked the temperature of the oven and pushed the heavy silver tray inside.

'Almost done,' he remarked.

'What else do you need to do?'

'The pudding needs to cook, I need to clean up my mess, and then I need to serve dessert.'

'So you have a few minutes spare?' she confirmed.

He nodded. 'Sure.'

There was a doorway and small corridor between the kitchen and dining room, but that didn't make the kitchen private. Anyone could walk in and see them at any point. That made Aimee nervous, but also quite sure that what she was about to attempt would work. All she needed to do was to get Valery to realise she was a sexually confident, capable person and, with any luck, he'd loosen up in the company of his friends and tell her what he wanted out of her.

She walked over to him, wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him into a kiss. His initial surprise gave way to enthusiasm, and he forgot about anything other than being with her. That was precisely what she wanted. She slipped a hand underneath his shirt and gently rubbed a nipple. He let out a muffled groan and pulled her tighter.

Aimee reached down his pants and rubbed his butt. His breathing deepened, and she could feel how hard he was. Slowly, and very carefully, she looped her hands in the waistband of his chef's pants, and pulled them down.

'Uhhh, not here,' he whispered. 'Too much of a risk of someone walking in.'

She leant into his ear and nibbled on the earlobe. 'You did it in the movies.'

'This is riskier.'

'No it's not. If we'd been caught at the movies, we would have got arrested. I don't think your friends would care.'

'No,' he agreed. 'They'd pull up a seat and watch. That's what I'm worried about. How about we wait until we get home?'

She planted her lips on his before he could protest any further. She slid a hand underneath his briefs and stroked his erection. His mouth might be saying 'no', but his body was telling her a different story. She continued to fondle him until he started to moan.

Aimee pulled his briefs down, exposing his cock. This time he didn't stop her. She fell to her knees and brushed her hair back from her face. She rubbed a finger against his piercing, smirking to herself as a drop of clear fluid appeared.

Instead of immediately taking him into her mouth, she focussed on kissing him on his balls, his thighs and his shaft. He placed a hand on the back of her head, and nudged her towards his cock. He wanted a blow job. Well, that was too bad; a blow job wasn't on offer.

She stood up and guided him to the bench. She gestured for him to spread his legs and lean forward, so that he was resting his forearms on the granite. He obeyed without any hesitation, which surprised her. Hadn't he just a few minutes ago been protesting any form of sexual activity?

This time, she knelt down behind him. She parted his cheeks and moved her mouth to his skin, carefully kissing her way towards his tight little hole. She'd never done this before, and wasn't confident about what she was doing, but he seemed to like it. When her tongue darted from her mouth and pressed against his entrance he moaned her name.

Aimee repositioned herself so she was stable. She kept her face buried his cheeks, held onto one of his thighs with her left hand, and reached around his right thigh with her free hand. She found his manhood, and began to awkwardly masturbate him.