Tomorrow Never Knows, part four

Neala was standing at the foot of the four-post bed.

She wore black knee-high leather stiletto-heeled boots and a matching tight leather sleeveless dress that hugged and accentuated each of her body’s curves. Dark eyeliner around each eye and rich red lipstick on her lips, she held a leather whip in her right hand and a vibrating phallic-shaped object in her left. She was absolutely gorgeous and terrifying at once.

Fergus lay on the bed with this arms splayed out to each side and his hands cuffed to the two bed posts just beyond his head and shoulders. He wore a leopard-print thong that enhanced his bulging excitement. His face was adorned with a ball and gag.

Neala approached him slowly and instructed, “Ok now, Fergus,” in a way that caused the hair on his neck to stand up and, south of his waistline, further revealed his raging arousal. “I’m going to need you to spread your legs and bend your knees for me… do it now.”

He hesitated, suddenly fearful. She was holding the dildo out in front of her, strongly implying that she had plans for it that directly involved him, his now-tightly puckered orifice, and his full compliance.

“Fergus,” she said once more, louder this time. “Do it NOW!”.

He squirmed and moaned and tried to loosen his arms… and then…

He woke in his bed in a cold sweat. “Jesus NO! Not my butt hole!” he screamed.

Dazed and breathing heavily, it took him a few moments to get his bearings. Realizing that he was sporting neither a thong, nor a ball and gag, he wiped his brow with the back of his hand and let out a long exhale, grateful to be in his own bed and in his own boxer briefs.

He’d been asleep. It was just a dream.

That was not at all how the previous night had played out… but his disturbing dream was very telling as to his level of attraction and intimidation where the Fitzgibbons woman was concerned.

Fully awake now and full of thoughts of the night before, he rose to grab a shower and begin his day.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, Neala sat quietly at her kitchen table. She sipped her hot, black coffee and took a bite out of a slice of Fergus’ banana bread. “Hmmmmm… not bad…”, she murmured.

Her thoughts drifted back to the previous evening out on her deck.

“He’s quite a kisser,” she thought dreamily, a dopey grin washing across her face in time with the butterflies that began to dance in her stomach.

The memory reignited in her body. Despite the rocky start to actually connect, his lips upon hers almost felt like coming home - natural, brand new and old fashioned all at once, passionate yet familiar, exciting and inviting. And yes, with sparks. Lots of them. Even with her eyes closed, she’d seen colours, bright vivid colours that spread from the centre of her being and warmed her whole body.

Or maybe it was a hot flash.

She just knew that having experienced it once, she was anxious to feel it again. She told him as much. When she told him to do it again, he did - hungrily and purposefully, as much for her enjoyment as his own.

Then he knocked over the table that housed their drinks and all of sudden, everything just… stopped.

He followed it up by jumping up hastily, offering his apologies, bidding her adieu, and then exiting abruptly, leaving her sitting there wondering if anything had actually even happened at all.

But something did happen.

He may have made a hasty departure, but she could still taste him on her lips. The stirrings that their momentary soulful connection had evoked lingered on her skin and in her lady parts.

Plus she had been left to clean up the mess from the spilled beer and wine.

She leaned back in her kitchen chair and determined that whatever had occurred certainly wasn’t over. It was too intense to just be over and done with. Nope, this just added to the pent-up sexual tension - and whatever that may look like, going forward.

She may not know what lay ahead, but she knew this much for sure: she was definitely going to shave her legs before it happened again.

* * * * * *

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https://vocal.media/fiction/tomorrow-never-knows-part-five