Well, we’d crossed a line and I wasn’t sure what would happen next. But my body was already responding positively, and that was a good feeling. I hadn’t been seriously turned on by any man I’d met in the last couple of years. Was it Marcus? Or was it just the prospect of finally talking about my desires to somebody? Or both?
Lost in my reverie, I didn’t notice that Marcus had returned to his seat. I suddenly saw him looking at me with a faint smile.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Oh, nothing,” I lied.
“Openness and honesty.”
“Okay. I was just wondering what we do now.”
“Do? Well, that depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether you just want to talk about books and culture – and I’d be fine with that – or about some of those fantasies of yours.”
I looked down, flushing again. I wasn’t sure how to respond. I wanted to talk about my fantasies; wanted to talk to someone who wouldn’t laugh or judge. Someone who had fantasies of their own and would help me to understand mine. But we had only known each other for a few weeks; I hadn’t even discussed these things with Lucy, and we’d known each other for years.
“Sally?”
Marcus brought my attention back to the table.
“Yes?”
“Why are you here?”
The million-dollar question. I enjoyed Marcus’s company, there was no doubt about that. We seemed to share some interests; we had got along instantly and were relaxed in each other’s company. He hadn’t tried to impress me or hit on me. I wasn’t sure if he saw me as just a friend or something more. I couldn’t let go now.
“Why are you here, Marcus?”
“Answer my question first, then I’ll answer yours. Fair?”
“Unfair! But OK. I think we have a lot in common; the books and stuff. We’re both introverts, and love peace and solitude. More than enough to be friends. But I think we might be able to help each other in other ways.”
I took a deep breath.
“I have fantasies I want to explore; fantasies that some would find extreme or weird. If I can’t find someone to fulfil them, I would at least love to have someone who I can discuss them with; confess them to, if you like. Someone who won’t laugh at me or judge me. I want to learn and understand; experiment, even. Is that so wrong? I may be mistaken, but I think you’re in a similar position. Am I right? Or have I completely cocked this up?”
He had been watching me intently and I had struggled to finish the statement. I picked up my glass and took two or three large mouthfuls of wine. He laughed.
“Thank you for being honest. I think that took some courage.”
“Yes.”
“You’re right,” he said. “I’m enjoying your company. But I admit, it’s the undercurrent that intrigues me. Yes, I have fantasies. Yes, many are unfulfilled. Yes, I’d love to talk about them to someone and about theirs. I promise never to judge you if you promise the same in return. I can’t promise not to laugh; but I won’t laugh at you. Deal?”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Deal.”
“Good. Do you want to leave it for another time, or shall we jump straight in?”
It had taken a lot of courage to get this far, so I wasn’t going to stop now.
“Jump straight in, please.”
“Right, I have a suggestion. No long explanations, no recounting fantasies. Why don’t we just come up with single words or phrases that crop up in our fantasies? Take it in turns. I’ll go first if you like.”
“OK.”
This was it. I held my breath. This would be the first time I’d named these things to anyone but myself. But I knew enough to know there were almost as many kinks as there are people. Would ours be wildly different? Would we have any common ground? Would he think mine were weird? Would I think his were? Oh, God …
This is an excerpt from Sally’s Shadow, the first book in the Kinky Companions series. Available from the following outlets:
Amazon Kindle | iBooks | B&N Nook | Kobo | Tolino*
Links will open in a new tab/window, and will take you to your local site (where available). * Tolino users, please search your registered store(s).
