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Three and a Half Weeks(165)

By:Lulu Astor


I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean, I’m not advanced enough?”

“Ella, I have to bind and gag you to keep you quiet when you climax. You have to learn how to do it with no one noticing before we can try something as advanced as that which you are suggesting.”

“Then why?” I tap my fingers impatiently. He knows what my question is.

Amusement still gleaming in his pretty eyes, he shrugs, “Just because you’re not there yet doesn’t mean we can’t start training you. We’ll begin slowly. Now, let’s order lunch and enjoy being together again, mon chéri.”

“Sweet-talking me in French? So obvious, it’s gauche.”

Chuckling, he says, “I got used to it around Daniel. Since we’re both fluent, we conversed in French when out and about, thereby decreasing anyone eavesdropping. Came in handy.”

I sip my mineral water as the waiter brings the wine over. Since it’s lunchtime, Ian ordered a Merlot by the glass rather than bottle. Watching him take a small taste, swish it in his mouth, and close his eyes, makes me feel needy. I squeeze my thighs together. Judging from his expression, I take it he likes the wine selection. I want him to taste me the same way.

I continue to eye him suspiciously, wondering what exactly he has running through that Machiavellian mind. He must be a great poker player for his face gives nothing away… ever. Finally I can’t bear the suspense any longer. “Tell me, Ian, did you do things like this, what we’re doing whatever that is, with your previous girlfriends… submissives… whatever?”

He gently shakes his head. “Ariel, is it ever a good idea to discuss previous lovers with current ones? I think not.”

“Well, fortunately, I’m not your current lover but your fiancée and I would like to know more about you, sexually and otherwise.”

“And you won’t find it upsetting?”

“I’m pretty sure I can handle it.” I huff, deciding that no matter what he says, I won’t react. Visibly.

“All right then, you’re on. Yes, I’ve been fond of these little… adventures for some time now. One of my favorites involved a submissive who had a job interview via Skype. I was under the desk… supporting and encouraging her the whole time.”

I gasp; I can’t help it, damn it. “Why would you do that? That’s just horrible.”

“She had self-control issues. We were attempting to address that deficiency.”

“Did she get the job?”

His lips twitch. “Unfortunately, no. The interview did not go very well. She came across as distracted… scattered, even.” He makes a stab at a sympathetic expression but gives in to the blackness in his soul and grins devilishly.

“I’m not surprised. Any other adventures you’d care to share?”

“There was the one in the crowded elevator—I wouldn’t mind trying that one with you sometime.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. We traveled from the 75th floor to the lobby. I believe she reached orgasm by floor 10… but it might have been even closer.”

“And no one knew?”

There was one young guy who was watching her out of the corner of his eye. He might possibly have known. Otherwise, no. She took her punishment very quietly and gamely.”

“Punishment?”

“Yes, she had displeased me. I felt she should be embarrassed.”

“Displeased you how?” I ask breathlessly.

“By asking too many questions about previous lovers. What would you like to eat?”

I kick his shin under the table, forgetting I’m wearing sandals. “Ouch!”

Tossing his head, he just lets loose with a howl of laughter at my expense. His laugh is so contagious that I can’t help but join in. I’ve really missed him a lot.

All through lunch I’m aware of my underwear-less status but he acts as if I’m fully dressed. What can he be planning? It’s driving me crazy but I wait, wishing I’d brought my panties in my purse. That would fix him. It may seem like not a big deal but it really makes one feel naked without that reassuring strip of fabric covering that so private of places. Then there’s the whole bra-less thing going on at the top. The silk shift is rubbing up against my nips and keeping the girls in a near constant state of arousal. Add that to the equation and it makes for one uncomfortable Ella.

Ian doesn’t appear to even remember how he had me dress. Fine! I’ll just keep my legs crossed and I’ll forget, too. I manage to do just that and enjoy the lunch immensely. The fish is cooked to perfection, the salad crisp, the vegetables fresh. Almost as soon as the plates are whisked away by a very efficient waiter, two people present themselves at our table. Ah, the wedding planners.