Destined to Play, Feel, Fly Trilogy Read online

  My heartbeats faster at his words and the blood pumps through my body, and to my surprise and horror, even my nipples can’t ignore the intent of his words through my blouse. How does he do this to me? He lightly kisses my neck and then leads me silently out of the bedroom.

  As we walk back into the lounge area, I notice he has music softly playing in the background and there is a plate of voluptuous dark chocolate-coated strawberries on the round table. I decide it is probably wise not to acknowledge his previous comment.

  ‘May I?’ Indicating the strawberries.

  ‘Of course,’ he nods, ‘they are there to be eaten.’ How does he make his words sound so enticing?

  ‘They look delicious.’ I realise I have only had champagne since lunchtime. They taste as scrumptious as they look and the thick dark chocolate coating is delectable. I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation. Jeremy places a serviette to the corner of my lip, gently dabbing some strawberry juice that had obviously escaped. This simple movement feels so seductive that my legs quiver as my own juices begin to form between my thighs, even though I vehemently deny their existence in my mind. He smiles deliciously at me while offering the plate as if he is fully aware of the intentions of my body.

  It is as if I have morphed on to the big screen and I’m playing the lead role in a sophisticated Hollywood romance. I let out a nervous giggle at the unlikelihood of the whole situation. It’s not as if this sort of thing happens every day when you are doing the washing up, the laundry and picking up the kids from school. He looks at me quizzically as if unable to decipher my thoughts.

  ‘Don’t worry, just reflecting on life for a moment.’

  I’m relieved he hasn’t mentioned the phone call as I don’t want to spoil the mood.

  ‘Well, unless you would like more strawberries right now, your bath awaits.’ As he opens the door, the scene surrounding me is becoming more Hollywood by the second. Is this my once-in-a-lifetime version of Pretty Woman? Would it be fair to stop now because of the nagging guilt I feel continuously tugging at the bottom of my heart? I literally have to pinch myself as I walk into the bathroom.

  ‘Wow, this looks truly … is completely … perfect … amazing.’ I am so taken aback by the romance of the vision before my eyes, I can barely articulate the words.

  ‘Stunning Jeremy, absolutely stunning.’ I glance around the bathroom, which has been transformed into a fairyland by sparkling tea lights. The smell is intoxicating but not overwhelming, with scents of lavender and jasmine, perhaps a hint of freesia — all my favourites. How could he remember such intimate details about me after so long? I feel delightfully light-headed with the whole experience he is creating for me.

  ‘Enjoy, it has been a big day for you. Now it is your time to relax.’

  He gently raises my hands to his lips, places a light kiss on each and removes himself from the bathroom. Leaving me to stare in wonder at my surroundings. I carefully undress, slipping off my high heels, stockings, and skirt, finally unbuttoning my shirt. I slowly unclip my bra, remove it from my breasts and allow my underwear to fall to the floor. I don’t want to disturb the scene with any rushed movements. I can’t wait to soak my body in that gorgeous, steaming, aromatic bath. As I lower myself into it, my tension automatically starts to ease. There is nothing I love more than a bath at the end of a big day, and this day has certainly been full of unexpected surprises. As I melt further into the deep milky water, I notice it isn’t just my body that is tired, but I have been in an emotional whirlwind most of the day as well. I am very grateful to have some time alone to just relax and attempt to quieten my mind. I release a long sigh. As my body stretches out in the depths of the bath, tranquillity surrounds me. Exactly what I need, I close my eyes and let all thoughts dissipate from my mind … Pure bliss …

  I’m not sure whether I drift off to sleep but I barely notice a soft ripple in the water, which is not enough to disturb my relaxing sensation and I keep my eyes closed until I feel a hand raise my foot from the bottom of the bath to commence a slow and steady massage. I open my eyes and I am stunned by the sheer audacity of the vision in front of me.

  ‘How did you? When did you?’ I stammer.

  ‘Shhh, just relax. You look so peaceful. I don’t want to disturb you, I want to add to the experience, not detract from it,’ Jeremy says gently, quietly.

  ‘But, but, you’re actually in the bath!’ I am astonished.

  Or am I? Is it such a shock that Jeremy would smoothly glide into a bath with me? Many years ago it was a very common occurrence and would not have been a shock at all. And if I am truly honest with myself, what was I expecting this weekend to bring? The memories floating around in my head are very different from the reality I am now experiencing. The present has far greater repercussions than the past we once shared. I am completely confused.

  My surprise eases into a dreamlike haze with the aroma infiltrating my nostrils and brain, mystical steam entwining our bodies. Jeremy’s foot massages were to die for and their intensity hasn’t diminished over the years. Indeed, quite the opposite. His magic fingers work deeper into the soles of my feet at the other end of the bath. I relax my head back on the inbuilt cushion and let out a long sigh, succumbing to the experience. Who was I kidding?

  ‘That’s right, sweetheart, just let go … Stop fighting so hard. I will take care of everything.’

  Although Jeremy is a massive physical presence, there is still plenty of room in the bath for both of us. It could perhaps fit three or four people, but I don’t want to think about that. As my other foot completely dissolves as well, releasing all pressure points under his meticulous touch, I barely notice that I am sliding effortlessly toward him. I am cradled between his legs in this exotic bath where the water between us is now a perfect temperature for two.

  I’m in a complete state of lethargy given the heady combination of champagne, the heat of the bath, the candles, the aroma, now the foot massage. I can barely raise my voice in protest, let alone a limb.

  Jeremy gently washes the length of my arms with a small velvet cloth, then my chest, slowly and carefully. I notice we are breathing in unison, and the water leisurely rises and falls as we inhale and exhale together. That is, until his hand begins to caress my breast. I tense as his fingers lightly flutter over my nipples, teasing them to attention. They instantly oblige. Once he achieves this desired result, he continues to massage my breasts in the fullness of his hands. My breath becomes short and my pulse quickens. I can no longer deny the impact his touch has on my body. I hear a sigh being released before I recognise it as mine; it is a strange sensation, as it seems to escape from my body without notice or warning. Was I already this out of control?

  ‘That’s better,’ I hear him say. ‘Not so scary after all, is it?’

  ‘Is this how you want to make me feel?’ I reply breathlessly, as his hands continue on their quest.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  If I had been in a more stable mental state, I should have known that question was coming. I knew he would expect an answer.

  I think about it and answer him honestly. ‘On edge, intense, relaxed, incoherent, pleasured … all of these words come to mind … and my body seems to be relieving my mind of its duties.’

  ‘Hmm, yes, that is almost exactly how I want you to feel. Do you like it, this feeling?’

  ‘I think so, but I may have to get back to you on that one.’

  His lips caress the nape of my neck as his fingers weave and explore further down my body, past my belly and linger between my thighs. The dull ache between my legs is now swelling with the anticipation of more.

  The room becomes hazy as I melt into his touch, his body still firm, smooth with a comforting sprinkling of hair. My body responds fervently to every caress. Just as he is about to arrive at the desired destination, his fingers pause, linger.

  ‘Doctor Blake, can I ask you something? I’d really appreciate your professional opinion.’

  ‘Sure,’ I
try to say as calmly as my shortened breath allows. I can’t quite believe he has chosen this precise moment to have a ‘professional’ conversation. My heart pounds in unison with the throbbing ache between my legs.

  ‘Great, thanks.’ He sounds pleased with himself.

  ‘You see, I have a beautiful woman staying with me for the next forty-eight hours.’

  I moan in disbelief as he continues. ‘We are staying in the penthouse suite of the best hotel in Sydney. She’s as sexy as hell and I don’t want to waste a moment of the time we have together.’

  ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t waste a second, Jeremy! What’s the problem specifically?’ I roll my eyes as I try to make my voice sound as even as possible, which is essentially impossible given his carefully orchestrated strokes. I try to respond as if I’m going along with his game, but hope he will also move the conversation along a little faster.

  ‘Well, you see, she finds it difficult to switch off. I don’t think she will fully immerse herself in the experience I want to give her this weekend. A once-in-a-lifetime experience, mind you.’

  I try to manoeuvre to put some space between us so I can see his face. However, he has me in a position where I am firmly anchored between his legs. One of his arms is around my chest and the other underneath my arse, between my legs, all the while his fingers, playing, teasing, caressing … God, I had forgotten just how good he is at this. He tightens his grip when he senses my attempt.

  ‘She says she will,’ he continues rhythmically, ‘but you see, I know her well. I know that what I am proposing goes against her nature, potentially even her values, and that’s why it is so difficult for her to let go, even though I know she deeply wants to experience what I can offer her.’

  As he continues his controlled, even monologue, his finger work intensifies below.

  The strength of his grip remains unrelenting.

  His smell, his touch, his words, I’m delirious.

  I must be dreaming; this can’t be happening in real life, can it?

  ‘And then I attend a lecture this afternoon given by some professional psychologist, Doctor something or other, in the hope that she would give me some ideas, you know, to help solve my problem. By the way, you should meet her, I think you’d like her,’ he adds offhandedly.

  Oh, he is enjoying this! I am in no position other than to play along.

  ‘And did she?’ I almost squeak out as I groan inwardly, unsure of whether the sound derives from frustration or pleasure. Either way, I am utterly lost in his hands, his words.

  ‘Yes, in fact she did, so I’m going to follow her advice.’

  Additional fingers join down below and now the other hand is pinching and pulling at my nipples as if commanding my body to attention rather than my mind. His touch intensifies as my nipples and loins throb in unison. The motion of his movement makes me weightless against him in the bath. As the water is cooling, I am heating up like a steaming kettle hanging over an open fire.

  ‘So, I have decided I should remove one of her senses this weekend. The doctor’s empirical research assures me that this would achieve two things. Firstly, significantly heighten all her other senses, which can only be a good thing given what I’m talking about, don’t you think?’

  He pauses.

  I can’t respond. I am unable to focus on his words any longer.

  ‘And secondly, that her experience would therefore exponentially increase beyond all preconceived boundaries and perceptions. I couldn’t believe it, all my problems had been solved by this incredibly insightful woman.’

  I gulp, gasp, perhaps even choke, at his words. He tweaks and teases my nipples as if testing their elasticity, causing my back to arch in synchrony.

  He continues, almost lost in his own words. ‘I have considered the five senses and finally decided on the one that was the basis of her research, which will definitely have the greatest impact.’ With his other hand, he probes the inner depths of my vaginal passage, gently and carefully massaging, purposefully avoiding the area in greatest need of his touch. Precision fingers.

  I am way beyond a deer caught in headlights; I am now loaded and strapped to the roof of the car. Damn him for doing this to me. Damn my body for responding! My breathing becomes uncontrollable, while I am held captive by the intoxicating spell of his knowledge and experience.

  ‘You see, she is a highly visual person and I honestly believe if she lost this sense …’

  I can’t hear his words any more. My breath is shallow and swift as I desperately attempt to secure more oxygen into my lungs, into my brain. His fingers come to a standstill.

  I am going to hyperventilate.

  ‘God, Alex, you have become even more acutely attuned to physical touch, if that’s even possible. Sensations are rippling through your body. It is really distracting me from my conclusion.’

  I am distracting him? Insane!

  The pause is long enough for me to breathe again. Not long enough to prevent his words, nor his intentions.

  ‘Therefore, all she needs to promise is two things. To relinquish her vision for the weekend and not ask any questions for the next forty-eight hours. A weekend that will exceed all expectations; break through her preconceived boundaries. A truly sensational experience that I have no doubt she will love … so obvious in hindsight, I’m disappointed I didn’t think of it myself …’

  His voice wanders off and his breath is hot in my ear as his tongue tickles and his teeth nibble my lobe. His fingers are relentless in their mission, penetrating, but falling short of securing the relief I urgently desire. My body prepares to explode. Then his voice registers in my ear with profound clarity.

  ‘Alexandra, promise me this, right now.’ His words are strong, deliberate. My body is quivering in anticipation. ‘It’s simple. No sight. No questions. Forty-eight hours.’

  I have too many feelings and emotions to fully comprehend my circumstances. My brain, my body, my heart are all focused on one thing and one thing only — release! I’m not sure whether I love or hate that he can do this to me, has always been able to do this as no one else has. I always feel so helpless, so dependent on his next move. It’s as if my body renders my mind irrelevant.

  ‘Promise me.’ The deep low voice penetrates my haze, my stupor.

  Oh god, my throbbing lust becomes agonising as the room starts spinning. It is too hot for me to handle, heat erupting from within, steam billowing around me. I try to thrust my hips forward to create friction where I so urgently need it to relieve the intensity he has so cleverly masterminded. I am physically prevented from doing so. My jolting movement hardens his resolve, his body strengthening its grip around mine.

  ‘Promise me, right now.’ The strong voice sends its final command.

  ‘Whatever. I, I, prom —’ I can’t manage to complete the words as they stutter out in a tangle. ‘Ohhh god,’ I sigh. He is relentless!

  ‘LOUDER.’ His voice booms into my ear like a tribal drum quickening its pounding beat …

  ‘I promise,’ I pant. ‘I promise.’ I sigh. ‘I’ll do whatever you want … this weekend. Whatever, just …’

  At these words, his fingers plunge deeply into my vagina sending me into the orgasm my body so frantically, so desperately, so completely desires. A primal scream escapes me …

  ‘Thank you, sweetheart, problem solved.’ I hear a seductive, distant whisper in my ear.

  He finds the sweet spot of my clitoris, which sets alight a new series of convulsions that milk my juices for all they are worth, while pinioning me through relentless spasms of mindless release. Without considering for a second the implications or consequences of the words that have just escaped me, I greedily allow myself to pass through the gates of pleasure he has so carefully constructed, then guarded, then ultimately controlled.

  I’m not sure how long I have been in my own faraway world when I drift back to reality. I notice my skin is starting to wrinkle prune-like, so some time must have passed. I slowly float back to conscious
ness.

  ‘Are you okay? You were amazing.’ I hear the wonder in his voice. Ah, yes, in Jeremy’s arms, in the bath. That’s where I am, becoming fully aware. I am soft and full and voluptuous, still floating in a decadent haze of delirium.

  ‘Mmm … I’m wonderful, how are you?’

  ‘Let’s get you out of the bath before you catch a chill.’ He steadily lifts me up and out of the bath and wraps a towel around my shoulders. It is thick and soft and I embrace its warmth.

  As he stands behind me with his arms wrapped around me, we face each other in the reflection in the mirror. Seeing him like this, our height difference appears exacerbated and for some reason, I wish I were wearing high heels to compensate for the disparity between us. I am acutely aware of his nakedness behind me, which makes me literally weak at the knees.

  He slowly unravels the towel as our eyes maintain contact in the mirror and lets it drop leisurely but deliberately to the floor. I am left staring at our naked forms in the mirror. His eyes are rapturous. We say not a word but regard one another with a deep sense of lust and history that has become more astonishing and complex over the years than we ever could have imagined.

  ‘You are even more breathtaking than I remember.’ Jeremy finally breaks the silence.

  ‘You have always been and continue to be too beautiful, Jeremy,’ I say, not wanting to acknowledge his comment.

  ‘Alexa, open your eyes, and really look at yourself.’ He notices I am trying to look anywhere but at my own reflection. He steps us closer toward the full-length mirror so I have no option but to be face-to-face with myself. Sometimes it is a wonderful thing that others see differently to what we see of ourselves. Interestingly, I find myself looking for any obvious signs of childbirth. It’s strange that I have never had that thought before this moment. Thankfully, the light is good to me. As these thoughts flitter through my mind, Jeremy clasps my hands together and lifts them from my side to high above my head, lifting me slightly off my heels. Bending my arms backwards so my elbows are the highest point in the mirror, there is nothing obstructing my face as my body rests against his. Jeremy is utterly irresistible in this erect, virile form. The sight of both of us standing naked before the mirror, embraced by candlelight, becomes more sensually heightened and more emotional than I could have ever imagined.