Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. "Red Hot & Blue" by Adhara Law (c) 1998 Adhara Law. All rights reserved. May not be reproduced without express written permission by the author. When David walked off the plane and into the terminal, you could have sworn the temperature in the airport rose by ten degrees. He saw me waiting and hurried over, grabbing me in a big bear hug. We hadn't seen each other in three years, and I noticed that he certainly hadn't changed. Nice shoulders, blue eyes... something flip-flopped inside me. I ignored it, or tried to. We'd slept together -- once, a long time ago. Alone and needy, we'd both succumbed to each other one night five years before after drowning our respective sorrows in copious amounts of alcohol. Amazingly enough, it hadn't affected a friendship that had already been going on for three years. We acknowledged it, found some significant others, and moved on. And now he was here, on business. He'd called a week ago to let me know, saying he'd hoped we could get together. "We have got to hit a restaurant," he said on the way to baggage claim. "I'm starving." "Chinese?" "You know it." It was his favorite, so we stopped at the New Mandarin and ordered lavishly. Over tea and a spicy cucumber appetizer, he asked, "so who's the man in your life?" I raised my eyebrows as I took a bite. "What makes you think I have one?" "You mentioned it the last time we talked." "David, that was a year ago." "Oh." He drowned his confusion in a big gulp of tea. "So fill me in, then." I slumped my chin onto my hand and stared at my plate. "Ben and I broke up about four months ago. He got a job offer in D.C." "And you didn't want to leave Boston." It was a statement, not a question. "We weren't that committed." I bulldozed a pile of cucumber leftovers around my plate. "What about you?" "Remember Caroline?" I nodded. "Well, you can forget her. Been 6 months." The bitterness in his voice told me not to press too soon for details. We were close enough; they'd come later, over our familiar late night talks with chips and beer. Our respective previous years were played out in detail during dinner as we caught each other up, both apologizing for not keeping in better touch, and both gently reprimanding the other about it. As much as I hadn't wanted it to, Ben's name came up repeatedly in conversation. Snipping the memories of someone you shared the better part of two years with did not come as easy to me as I'd hoped. "Sarah," David said. "Don't take this the wrong way, but isn't this the third guy you've let take you for a ride and then walk out of your life like nothing had happened?" He was never one to mince words. "He didn't take me for a ride," I griped. My voice wasn't as convincing as I was trying to make it. "You put the guy through school, he grabs his degree and says, 'See you later, hon, it's been great'?" And he had a way of putting things succinctly. Thankfully the bill came and I argued about paying for it in order to avoid answering him. He knew I wasn't going to and didn't press the issue. "So show me the glorious city of Boston," he said as we got in the car. The sky was just beginning to get dark as I drove him around, pointing out the historical sites and then taking him to the harbor. A year had definitely been too long. The time with David passed in the blink of an eye, and before I realized it, it was nearly eleven. "We should get back to my place. You have an early day tomorrow," I said. Reluctantly we headed for home. I'd offered David my spare room so he wouldn't have to stay in a hotel. With a smile, I realized how nice it would be to have another body in the house, someone to take away the crushing silence for a few days. We were still chattering as we walked in the door, and, just like we'd done all the years before, we walked to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and I opened the cabinets. Potato chips and a couple of beers were standard issue at this hour for us. "You're going to make me gain 10 pounds while you're here, you know," I said, flopping down on the couch cushions opposite him. His blue eyes latched themselves onto my body. "I don't think you really have to worry," he replied, his voice taking on a tone I hadn't heard from him in a very long time. A time, if I remembered correctly, that we'd conveniently forgotten about. We began the deadliest of conversations -- the reminisce. We talked about some of his old girlfriends and the odd quirks they had, and gave my old boyfriends the same treatment. It was a cathartic release to be able to rant about Ben to David, who sat and listened attentively. Mostly I looked into the mouth of my second bottle of beer and picked at the label. But when I looked up, my eyes met David's. Ice blue and wide open, they were like lasers boring into me. It threw off my rhythm. "Sarah..." David said. A long pause followed. "Have you ever thought about us?" I didn't want him to ask that question, because I didn't want to tell him yes. I also didn't want to tell him that it would never work. "You let too many men walk all over you, Sarah." I knew, deep down, the truth of what he'd said, but it still raised a heat in my throat to hear him say it. "David, look, I --" Before I could finish, our lips were locked, his tongue intertwining with mine. For a second, I gave myself over to it, but then I remembered that it was David. I tried to pull back, but before I could break away his arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me into him. He came up for air a few seconds later. "You need to learn how to get what you want," he said, his voice quiet and commanding, his breath playing over my lips and cheeks. I didn't know what to say. "Tomorrow night," he said, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Tomorrow night, I'm going to start to show you how." And with that, he got off the couch and walked up the stairs to the spare bedroom, his eyes locked on mine with every step. * * * It was about 6:30 in the evening when he walked through the door. The entire day had been a umble of images for me, making me pretty unproductive at work, wondering what he'd meant the night before. "Got a nice dress?" He said, the first words out of his mouth as he walked into the living room, where I sat watching the news. "Yeah, but I thought --" "Put it on." The tone of his voice left no doubt that this was not open to debate. In total confusion, I walked upstairs to change. If it hadn't been David... Considering the warm summer evening in humid Boston, I chose a blue cotton sundress and put up my long, black hair, having no idea what was going on. When I came back downstairs, David smiled. "Perfect. You look great." "Where are we going?" I asked, the confusion in my voice overriding any annoyance I might have felt. "We're going to dinner." He spun around in the doorway suddenly, making me step back in surprise. "And the next time you ask that question," he said with a smile, running his index finger down my neck from my chin to my cleavage, "you'd better be firm about it." His finger left behind a thin, tingling trail. He walked to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for me, only adding to my confusion. I knew he didn't know Boston; how were we supposed to get where we were going, wherever that was? He didn't explain, and I wasn't sure if I should ask. I got in, tucking my dress around my legs. He climbed in and started the car up, pulling out of the driveway confidently. He seemed to know where he was going. I had a feeling he wasn't going to tell me if I asked, so I decided not to bother, but instead watched him as he drove. His forehead wrinkled in deep thought occasionally as he navigated his way around the city, but eventually we pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant. A very expensive restaurant. He'd done some research. "David, I --" "_Don't talk_." His lips were inches from mine and smiling in a way I'd never seen on him before. His blue eyes were soft but the voice was hard, as well as quiet. What the hell, I thought. I'd play along. This side of David that I'd never seen before was intriguing. He'd apparently made reservations as we were seated immediately. The lighting was dim and romantic, and our table was as far away from the rest of the restaurant as possible. If he was planning to kill me, I thought, this was as good a place as any. As soon as we sat, a waiter appeared at our table. Without a single look towards me, David ordered both my dinner and his. When the waiter left, I looked at him, shocked. "What's the matter?" He said, the traces of a smile playing at the edge of his lips. "Don't like me taking control?" I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. "Now, what did I say earlier?" This was turning out to be a very strange evening, and I was beginning to wonder if I should have invited him to stay. The food arrived and, despite the fact that I wasn't given the chance to order my own meal, turned out to be very delicious. Halfway through the silence, David leaned across the table to me. "Has anyone ever sucked wine from your nipples?" I looked up in shock. David was a study in the Mona Lisa smile at that moment. I opened my mouth again, but he raised an index finger to my lips, then moved it to the wineglass in his hand. He circled the rim of it delicately with his finger. "Do you have any idea what I want to do with you and this glass of red wine?" I didn't move; I almost didn't dare to breathe. "First, I would take my finger and dab a few drops on your earlobes, letting them run slowly down the side of your beautiful neck. Then, when they pooled in the dimple of your collarbone, I would lick it dry and suck every last drop of wine from your neck and ears." My eyes were locked onto the glass of Merlot he held between us in both of his hands. A slight involuntary warmth began spreading from my nipples downward. "I have you, don't I?" He said, his voice like melted chocolate running over my skin. "This is power, Sarah," he went on. "This is control." He was right; he had me. My pulse was quicker through the rest of the meal. We drove home in silence, my mind racing to figure out what to do with the situation. When we walked through the front door, David turned around and grabbed me by the waist with both arms, pressing his body against mine, my back up against the wall of the hallway. His face was millimeters from mine; our lips molecules from touching. "Go upstairs, go into your room, undress, and wait there for me." Any independence of mind I might have had had by now been wiped away. With quickened breathing I walked upstairs and did what he had told me to do. Moments later, he came into the room. I'd been naked in front of David before, but never in circumstances like this. I felt a slight blush creep into my cheeks as I sat on the bed, legs crossed, feeling modest but not necessarily wanting to put my clothes back on. I was past that point. I watched him put a bottle of red wine and a glass on the floor next to the bed and move toward me, a smile on his face. Wearing pants but no shirt, he leaned into me and, with one hand, pushed me gently back onto the bed. By now, my breathing would have made someone think I had just run a mile. I was dancing on the edge of panic; this shouldn't be happening, I thought. This is David. But it was happening, and I was enjoying it. I closed my eyes and arched my hips up toward him. "Ah, ah, ah," he sung out softly, moving to hold my arms above my head. "You're begging. You want control, remember?" I bit my bottom lip to keep from practically whimpering. Then I felt something soft around my wrists, which by now were above my head and in David's left hand. I strained my eyes upward to see one of my silk scarves being tied around my wrists and then around the metal curves of the brass bed I slept in. For a moment, I was too petrified to move. I'd never been tied before; I was always passive to begin with. But the loss of control was both terrifying and exhilarating. And I trusted David completely. David stood up and lit the two candles I had on my dresser and nightstand, and shut off the bedroom light. He sat on the bed next to me as I lay helpless, the glass of wine in his hand. Without a word, he dipped his index finger into the blood red liquid and brought it to a nipple. The wine was cool to the touch compared to my skin, which by now was on fire, and I closed my eyes with a gasp. I felt the drop slide slowly down my breast, and I begged silently for him to catch it with his tongue. No such luck. I opened my eyes to see him dip his finger again, this time running it slowly around my nipple, getting it good and wet. This was too much; I bit my bottom lip, closed my eyes, and sucked in my breath, arching my back to meet his finger. Suddenly I felt his mouth on me, sucking the wine from my hard nipple, his teeth teasing at it a little more. An uncontrollable moan came out of me as I rolled my head back and tried desperately to pull my arms down, but the inability to do so only made my excitement more intense. As he sucked, I felt his fingers trail down my skin past my navel. They were wet with the wine, although now it wasn't needed. His fingers brushed over my clit and I nearly screamed, arching my back as far as it would go to meet him. He set the glass of wine back on the floor and took off his pants. He climbed over me, his breath rasping quickly against cheek. He slid a hand under the small of my back and pulled me up to him as he entered me. I was uncontrollable. I thrust up to meet him as he slid as far into me as he could go. I wanted so badly to wrap my arms around him, but the silk scarves kept my hands tied to the headboard, and I pulled against them to bring my hips to David's, not caring if they tore or stretched. I was unbelievably close. Within minutes, I could feel myself on the verge of orgasm, and as the moment came I threw my head back and moaned, bucking against David. He groaned as I came, thrusting himself harder into me and pulling me up to him as much as he could. A few seconds later, he crushed his hips into mine with a gasp as his teeth sunk lightly into my neck. It sent a shock from the top of my spine down to my toes. He slid to the side of me, both of us gasping for breath. With one hand he reached up and unknotted the scarves, freeing my wrists. All they could do, however, was lay limply above me. Then David's lips were on mine. He kissed me, lightly biting my bottom lip, and said, "tomorrow night, lesson two." And then, he got up and went into the spare bedroom, closing the door behind him. * * * It took every ounce of energy to concentrate at work the next day. I had to make excuses for the strange smile on my face, and I breathed a sigh of relief when it was time to go home. But when I did, I remembered that I had lesson two to look forward to, whatever that was. And David would be home soon. An hour after I got home, David waltzed through the door with a smile. "Dinner again tonight," he said. I hesitated. "David..." He didn't stop me. "You don't have to take me out to dinner every night that you're here, you know. I can cook." He smiled and simply motioned for me to go upstairs, presumably to get dressed for dinner. So I did. The short walk to the car was exquisite agony; I wanted so badly to grab David, run my hands over his body, feel his running over mine. But I couldn't, even after the previous night's experience. The night before still seemed too unreal to me. The restaurant was different this time, but no less elegant than the one we'd been to the previous night. And this time, I'd received no orders not to talk. When the waiter arrived, David looked at me expectantly, and I ordered my meal. While we ate, David made small talk. I sat almost on the edge of my seat, waiting for him to grab my libido by the reins and steer me in the direction he wanted. But there was nothing even close to the episode from the night before. And I could tell he knew I was waiting for it. The tension dripped from us like sweat. The ride home was uneventful as well, only heightening my anticipation. I thought my heart would leap out of my rib cage if he didn't do something. And when we walked through the front door and into the hallway, he said, "I think I might turn in early tonight." I stood there like a statue, not knowing what to do or say. I searched for something, but nothing came out of my throat. He turned and smiled, sly and wicked, and walked back toward me. With both hands he pulled my waist to him, and put his lips a hair's breadth from my ear. "If you want it, take it. Take control." His barely audible voice trickled lightly into my ear. I swallowed hard, feeling my heart beat faster against his chest. I raised my lips to his and kissed him, running my tongue over his as my hands reaching up at the same time around his back. I felt him push against me ever so slightly. He broke the kiss. "What is it you want, Sarah?" he whispered. "You," I said, my voice almost cracking. "I want you." "Then let's go upstairs." I followed him up the stairs and into my bedroom, where I grabbed his arm, turning him around. I pulled him to me and kissed him again, running my hands from his shoulders to his crotch. "That's it," he said with a moan. Then he pulled me over to the bed and on top of him so I straddled his hips as we kissed even harder. I felt his fingers unzip the back of my dress, pulling it down to my waist, and then expertly undo every hook in my bra. Then he slipped it off. I frantically untucked his shirt from his pants and unbuttoned it, throwing it off of him toward some corner of the room. As I unzipped and unbuttoned his pants, I slid down off of him and onto the floor, pulling them off as I went. I smiled when I saw that he was wearing dark blue bikini briefs that were pulled tight against his erection. I pulled them down past his hips as he arched upward to make it easier, and as soon as they were off, I moved in for a lick. With a gasp, he ran his fingers into my hair and gently pulled me back. "No," he breathed. "Not yet." He pulled me back up so that I straddled him again, and as he gently bit my neck I felt something soft being placed into my hand. It was the scarves. "Take control," he said softly. "Make me have to ask for it." I stopped cold; I couldn't do this. I had never made the first move before, never mind tied someone up. He must have felt my hesitation; he leaned back, putting his wrists together behind his head. "You can do it," he whispered. I looked into his eyes -- he wanted me to do it; his eyes were practically begging for it. In a surge of courage I leaned forward, gently wrapping the scarves around his wrists and tying them to the headboard. I struggled for a moment, trying not to worry about what kind of knot I was tying. Finally, it was done. I leaned down and kissed him. His tongue reached into my mouth as far as it would go, and suddenly I realized that he was helpless. I could do anything I wanted to him. The thrill shot through me like a bolt of lightning. I had him. The nervousness had not completely left me, though; I still wasn't sure what to do. So as I kissed him, I ran my hand down his stomach and between his legs, pulling at him and stroking him gently. A tiny moan escaped his lips while he squirmed under me. "Sarah..." He said, his voice trailing off into nothing. I knew what to do. I started by kissing his neck, gently nibbling the softness of his earlobes while he gasped for breath. I moved down to his shoulders, shoulders I'd always secretly lusted after, and bit softly into his collarbone, feeling his hips arch up in sudden movement. I moved further down. My tongue traced out small circles on his pecs, then moved to his right nipple, which was as hard as a pebble. I licked at it gently and sucked it between my lips. I could feel the bed shift as he pulled hard on the scarves. I didn't know how much longer I could tease him, but I was determined to bring him to the edge. I moved even further. Just above his navel I licked and nibbled before moving slowly down, nearly to his crotch. But as he arched upward to meet me, I shifted to the left and began kissing and licking the skin on the inside of his groin. By now, he was sounding like a wild animal in heat. I knew that if I untied him then, he would be unstoppable. The power I held over him was intoxicating. I licked my way down the inside of his groin to the top of his thigh and nibbled some more. I let my hands roam over him lightly, playing his ribs like a piano, causing him to gasp for air, and grazing over the more secretive parts of his body. "Oh, God..." He said, sounding like a man in desperate need of the Almighty. "Please...please don't tease me anymore." Like him, I couldn't stand it much longer. The wetness and the heat between my legs was too much to bear, but I didn't want to satisfy myself just yet. I raised myself up and moved to his crotch, sliding his cock into my mouth as far as it would go. I thought he was going to come right then. Instead, he moaned loudly and arched his hips, pulling against the scarves, just as I'd done, to slide himself as far back as he could. I matched his rhythm as much as I could for a few moments. "Please, Sarah..." He moaned. I felt his legs push against me, directing me to straddle him. I slid myself up along his chest, biting him gently as I went, and straddled him, sliding him into me. I watched him, eyes closed and mouth slightly open, as I ground against him. I watched his wrists strain against the scarves on the headboard, threatening to break. His moans got louder; I knew he was close. Within only a couple of minutes, he threw his head back and bucked his hips against mine, then collapsed on the bed. The knowledge that I'd caused such incredible arousal in him, the feel of so much power, was too much. I held his arms as I rode him harder, coming only moments after him. As I gasped for breath, I lay down on his chest, then reached up and unknotted the scarves. As soon as his wrists were free, he grabbed me around the waist and flipped me over. He covered my neck in kisses and whispered. "Tomorrow night. The final exam." * * * I knew what he was expecting. It was his last night in town, and I had an entire meal prepared before he walked through the front door. "We're not going out, I take it?" He asked, walking into the kitchen. "No. Tonight we're staying in." I tossed him a smile. I'd set the dining room table and had lit two candles to set the mood. I handed him a dish. "Put this on the table, sit down, and wait for me. And don't move," I said to him. I could see him swallow hard as he smiled. When I sat at the table a few moments later, he opened his mouth to say something. "_Don't talk_." The look on his face was priceless. But underneath, I could see that he was enjoying it immensely. We sat through the meal in silence. But it wasn't the dinner that was special; it was dessert. When we'd finished, I got up slowly from the table and carried the few dishes that were on it into the kitchen, leaving him a look that made it clear he was not to move or speak. When I returned, I was carrying two dishes and the silk scarves. If eyes could moan, his would have at that moment. I placed the dishes on the table in front of him and hiked my dress up to my waist, and then straddled him. I reached behind myself, grabbed the silk scarves, and began tying his hands behind him. I had never realized before that the ladder-back chairs I owned would serve such a purpose; they were perfect. Butterflies momentarily flittered around in my stomach as I thought, can I do this? I pushed them aside. I was having too much fun. With my eyes locked on his I pulled the scarves to be sure they were snug, eliciting a small gasp from David. Then I reached behind to the table again and took a strawberry from one bowl and took the bowl of whipped cream into the other hand. Never letting my eyes drop from his, I swirled the berry into the cream and held it to his lips. He took a generous bite and swallowed. With the juice of the strawberry running down my fingers -- I'd made sure they were very ripe -- I slowly traced a line from his chin to the hollow of his neck. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. I went in, sucking on his skin to get all of the juice and running my lips and tongue down his neck to finish it. I could feel him getting harder under me as my crotch pressed against his. I popped the rest of the strawberry in his mouth and, after he swallowed it, grabbed his face between my hands and kissed him, hard. He whimpered lightly. Something other than my usual self was beginning to take over, and I was enjoying it. I put the bowl of whipped cream on the table and began to unbutton his shirt, running my hands over his chest. "My, my," I said softly. "This will get sticky with all of this strawberry juice. We can't have that, now can we?" He smiled and closed his eyes. I leaned down and followed with my tongue behind my hands as they unbuttoned his shirt. I couldn't take it off of him as I'd already tied his wrists, but that only made it more exciting. I was going to take only what clothes I needed to off of him. I, however, would be completely naked. But he wouldn't be able to put a finger on me. I wasn't sure how long I was going to last myself. I stood up and began unzipping his pants, gently pushing my hands up to get him to lift up off the seat so I could pull them down. Afterwards, I stepped back and slowly began taking off my sundress, and then my bra, and finally my panties. He seemed to be sweating in the dim light of the candles. When I straddled him again, he let out a soft moan, so I placed a finger against his lips. "You won't be talking until I say you can talk." His breathing picked up. I grabbed the bowl of whipped cream again and dipped my index finger into it, swirling it around slowly so as to thoroughly cover it in the stuff. I brought it up and touched it to his lips. When he opened them, I put my finger into his mouth. He sucked on it, rolling his tongue around it to get all of the whipped cream. I stifled a slight moan from myself. I dipped it again, only this time I dragged my finger across his chest, covering it in whipped cream. His eyes closed and he let his head loll back as I leaned down and licked every last bit of it off of him. For the next few minutes I worked my way down with the whipped cream, but I didn't repeat the fun from the night before. Instead, I sat up again and dipped my finger into the bowl once more. Watching my every move, David seemed about to burst. I took my finger and covered my right nipple in whipped cream. As I leaned up toward him, I almost expected him to literally devour me, and I nearly fainted from excitement. "We're going to finish every bit of cream in this bowl tonight, aren't we?" I said to him, my voice struggling to appear in control. He nodded and moaned, licking every bit of it off of me. I spread whipped cream over both of my breasts, on my neck, anywhere I could, and I let him lick it off, but I always pulled away before he could do anything else. Finally, the excitement was too much. I reached behind him and untied the scarves. As soon as they were off of him, He sprung out of the chair with me in his arms, and, in one fluid motion, pushed everything on the table aside. Before I knew it I was on the table on my back, with him over me, pulling at his clothes. As soon as they were off, he dipped his fingers into the bowl of whipped cream and them decorated my pussy with it. Then he went in to lick it off. I thought I would scream. I grabbed his hair and held him there for a moment, but neither one of us could stand it any longer. He came up to pushed my legs back and slid into my in one fluid motion. I was glad for living in a house and not an apartment, as we were loud enough to wake the dead. He rocked against me as I grabbed his hips, trying to pull him into me as far as he could go. One hand braced the small of my back, while the other held my breast as he sucked at the nipple. I couldn't hold back any longer; I came hard, pulling at him and throwing my head back. He wasn't long behind me. As he caught his breath and leaned over me, I raised my head to his. "I'm not through with you yet," I growled. He smiled and carried me up to the bedroom. * * * I was dimly aware of sunlight streaming in through the curtains. With a gasp I woke up, realizing that it had to be late. David's plane was due to leave at 7 am. Had I overslept? In a panic, I sat up in bed, finding a note on the pillow next to mine. I picked it up. Dear Sarah, You were sleeping so soundly I didn't want you to have to wake up to take me to the airport, so I shut off your alarm and caught a cab. You're too good to let someone else rule your life. I knew you had it in you to take control -- I just wanted to bring it out. Don't let anyone direct your life but you. Remember, if you can take control here, you can do it in any part of your life. Love, David --------------------------------------------- I strongly encourage both positive and negative feedback on my stories. Please write to me, Adhara Law, at eros_dreams@hotmail.com and let me know what you thought of this story.