“Ah, the man of the hour. Come.”
He reaches his hand out towards me, and when I get close enough; he pulls me onto his lap. He inhales sharply against my neck and groans. I can’t help the smile that pulls at my lips.
“From next week, you will sit at my feet, and I will feed you. You’re clearly not eating or drinking right, so that’s up to me now to make sure you’re at your healthiest.”
I wriggle a little on his lap as he tells me this, and I can feel his length against my thigh. It sends tingles straight to my groin, and I hold back the urge to grind into it. Again, unsure whether this will lead to something more sexual for us.
“For tonight, you can sit on your own and take your time, but I want you to sit here until you’ve finished your full meal, okay?”
He pulls my chin toward his face so that I can see him. His warm hand on my skin is everything. Not fully understanding why I react like this when I barely even know him, I assume it’s because of being so touch-starved that I’m craving any scraps from anyone. Even the most minute of touches, I find myself leaning in to. He taps me on my butt to get me moving over to my seat across from him.
The meal he has prepared is a beef stew with potatoes and green beans. My mouth waters. I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal like this that wasn’t made by this man. Years, probably. I pick up my silverware and waste no time digging in as I notice Arnie’s eyes on my every move.
“Can I ask a question?” I ask as I sip my water.
“Sure, I’m an open book, Jamie. This dynamic won’t work if I am too mysterious, and you don’t know if you’re coming or going. I would much rather have you coming.”
With that response, he winks, and I can’t help but utter a tiny laugh. He laughs a little himself, and at that moment, I see him in an entirely different light. He looks younger and more carefree. I hope he does it more often, and maybe it’ll be because of me again.
“How did Simmons know I would be, like, a good match for you? For this? I mean, it’s not typically conventional for your professor to recommend D/s play for helping succeed in their classes.”
I smile but keep my gaze low. As I try to keep my questions light, my insides are buzzing, desperate to know what caught hiseye. Am I just that pathetic that I’m a walking advertisement for this kind of lifestyle?
“Whatever’s going on in your head, Jamie, quit it. I can see you spiraling, and there’s no need to. Simmons and I have known each other for a long time. Having met through mutual channels within this lifestyle before we worked for the same university. It’s not my story to tell, but he said I could share with you some minor details.”
I look up from my plate and meet Arnie’s gaze now. Interesting. I arch a brow, waiting for him to continue.
“We met at a lifestyle club. Both looking for something different. He had a sub with him at the time and was looking for a play partner for him. I was too much of a Dom to enter anything with them apart from a physical one off here and there at the club. His sub liked being paddled, but Simmons isn’t that kind of Dom.”
“What kind is he then? I apologise for my ignorance, I didn’t realise there were different types. I thought it was mainly a power exchange with sex.”
I look at him through my lashes, feeling a little naive for not researching this stuff enough before agreeing to his terms and conditions and entering the lifestyle myself.
Arnie only chuckles as he takes a long drink from his glass.
“Well, you can ask him yourself, Jamie. If you ever gather the courage, that is.”
Then he winks at that too!
“And Jamie? If your homework session was anything to go on today, you’ll know exactly what kind of Dom I am.”
Wait. Does that mean he wants to paddle me with something that’s not his hand? Maybe whip me? Will I be left with marks that people would see?
I panic a little but then remember what Arnie mentioned before about being able to use red or stop if I need to and hewill immediately. That calms me slightly, but my previous panic-stricken look must have been caught by Arnie as he gives me an intense, concerned look.
He goes to speak but must decide against it since he goes back to finishing his meal instead.
“Finished?”
I nod, and he gets up, about to start the cleanup, but I jump from my chair and gather the plates, taking them over to the sink.
Remembering from brunch earlier where his dishwasher lives, I rinse them and place them in the machine, I wipe the worktops like he did too. He watches me closely, not speaking as I silently thank him for today through an act of service.
When I’m done, Arnie offers me a hot chocolate then ushers me out and over to a loveseat in his living room, where he wraps in me in a blanket and provides me with access to his Netflix account.
He’s dimmed the lights so it’s almost dark but still cosy. A large Baies candle flickers on the coffee table opposite me and smells of cedar wood.
I’m surprised at his sudden need to take care of me. Where is the big bad wolf from our first encounter? I don’t voice anything though. Instead, I find a film and relax into the seat as it starts.
