“So listen, here’s what I’m thinking,” Safia Hajjar says into the mic. Perfectly airbrushed skin and gaudy earrings, she leans back in a plush office chair behind an ornate wooden desk. Boxes of expensive jewelry samples line the shelves. “After we finish the dress shopping, we do drinks and brief the girls on the rehearsal.”

“Ooh,” Stacie responds, back in her own office, busy multitasking with dozens of windows open on several floating monitors. “You know it was hard enough for me to free up Sunday morning, I don’t think I can do all day.”

“Oh come on, what do you have going on?” Safi’s long nails tapping the desk. “I can’t have a bridal shower without my spicy Stasi.Whatever you’re doing, clear it.”

“Bitch, this is not your bridal shower. You’re having 6 different parties and calling them different things as an excuse to drink and get more gifts.”

Safi looks at her nails with a grin, “Can you blame me?”

“Alright, well I have Sunday evening plans I can’t move,” Stacie concludes. “I’ll be at the next bridal shower to get shitfaced with you,you just need to give me more than a 3-day advanced notice.”

Safi interrupts. “You got a dick appointment?”

Stacie considers… “Yeah.”

“Mateo?”

“No.”

“Jong-hwan?”

“No.”

“Niklas?”

“No, someone new, and I’m not going to tell you about him.”

Safi rolls her eyes. “Jesus, fine. Rude…”

“See you Sunday,” Stacie says before hanging up.

“Byee.”

🌹🌸🌹🌸

Sunday evening.

Kenji had barely said hello before Anastasia gripped him by the lapels, yanked him in close to her, and dusted his neck with kisses.

“I cannot believe I’m so late,” she spills, between little love bites, “How long were you waiting?”

Craning his neck up to accept the affection, hiding a chipper glow, “I don’t mind waiting.”

Still kissing, Anastasia walks backwards towards to bedroom, pulling Kenji with her. “Doesn’t matter, it’s rude.”

“Waiting makes it better. Builds anticipation,” he replies sweetly. “And I had enough to do in the meantime.”

They enter the bedroom. She sits. Grabs the middle of Kenji’s belt and pulls him to stand between her legs. She un-tucks the front of his shirt. He giggles at her eagerness.

“Oh,” she continues the conversation, “What’ja do?”

He laughs at himself, allows Anastasia to undress him as he stands patiently. “Oh, it doesn’t matter, it’s silly. How did dress shopping go?”

She kisses his exposed midriff, softly for several seconds. Looks up at him with a sigh.

“We went into every single designer shop in the city, she tried on 400 dresses, convinced every concierge to give us a free wine, only to decide she was gonna contact the designer directly so she could commission it from scratch.”

“Ohh. How many people went?”

“Enough about my day, I’m over it. Tell me what silly thing you worked on,” she says before taking a slow lick up Kenji’s middle.

Trying speak through the sensation that began creeping allover him, “I was…watching random video tutorials. Gift wrap folding…knife sharpening…”

Not pausing, she keeps kissing, massaging the back of his thighs. “Why on earth…knife sharpening?”

“I warned you it was silly.”

“No it’s… For what?”

“For cutting sashimi. I just find those videos relaxing…”

“Fascinating…” she sighs. “You know what I find relaxing?”

Kenji raises his eyebrows.

And she reaches up to grab the front of his opened shirt, pulling him down with her as she slowly leans back onto the bed behind.

He collapses, resting on top of her, nose to nose.

Anastasia growls into Kenji’s ear, just above a whisper. “Taking apart a beautiful young boy piece by piece…” Then bites the edge of his ear,words trailing down the side of his face. “And feeling his desperate cock grinding on me while I decide what I want him to do with it…”

The words felt like a shot of liquor, strikingly repulsive and equally addicting. Suddenly more aware of his body, Kenji buries his face into her neck to hide the violent blush spreading over his face.

She shifts in her spot. Positions her legs around the outside of his hips, Kenji’s slim figure fitting perfectly between them.

She tugs his shirt to the side to reveal more skin, and places an innocent kiss of the top of his freshly exposed shoulder.

Grabbing both sides of his face, she pulls him directly in front of her, staring lovingly into his eyes.

In voice as thick and deadly as molten lava, “Kenji, baby,” she whispers onto his lips, so close he could taste the warmth of her breath. “I want you to fuck me. Can you do that for me?”

An instant grimace and a shockwave of guilty pleasure, Kenji loses control of his mind. His reaction, to Anastasia, was like candy. He shuts his eyes, reorienting, and lowers his face just an inch to kiss her on the lips, the one thing he did know how to do.

And then, “Of course, I can,” he whispers in response.

Though…he is not actually sure. The pressure under his zipper suggests confidence, but in truth, Kenji doubts his ability to complete the request honorably. The chances of disappointing this woman are high. He could only guess what his performance would be compared to…

Why, lord, why is she making him lead? She’s knows how inexperienced he is, for the love of god, some help? Please?

The scene stalls, as he’s unsure of the first move he should make.

She’s waiting. Watching. Not bored. Discreetly amused, he could tell.

Kenji begins by repeating the motions from last time. The pair embrace. Slowly at first, with novice apprehension. But with encouragement, the pace accelerates and the mood deepens. Kenji’s lips showing gratitude for Anastasia’s full figure, his small hands grabbing an embarrassingly modest section of her waist, he presses his hips into her,hoping for any kind of reaction. Receives only a motherly stroke of the hair.She’s entertained, but aroused? It’s hard to tell.

Unless…

He lets a hand drift from her side to her inner thigh. And looks up.

She stares down with cool delight. No comments.

With permission granted, Kenji slips his delicate fingers into the flexible waistband of her pants and under deep maroon colored panties.

Oooh… This is new.Exciting, uniquely interesting and complex. But now he had more questions than answers. Is this…how it always feels? Is this moisture natural or a positive response to his performance? Would it help if… He puts a finger in.

No physical response. Only a growing smile. Amused…

Another finger. And she lifts her hand to cover the obvious expression on her face.

Kenji bites his lip and stares up, with an embarrassed grin.

“You’re ok, hun.” She says, in a voice no different from her speaking tone.

But Kenji abandons the effort. This isn’t working.

Instead, he moves the hand to her thigh and they kiss like passionate lovers, eyes closed, engaged in the moment, Anastasia undresses him with familiar energy.

And this time, he undresses her.

On himself, nudity felt vulnerable, exposed and open to judgement, helplessly unarmed with nothing to hide behind. A feeling he…didn’t dislike. On Anastasia, seeing her stripped of her fine black suits, somehow she felt even more powerful. A lion without chains, baring all unafraid, ready to enter battle with nothing but her bare hands. Together, bodies intimately entangled, it was a nude wrestling match he was poised to lose.

She considers him. Digesting every move he had made…and not made. Sizing up her prey, Anastasia resolves simply to take exactly what she wanted.

With one free hand, she greedily grabs Kenji’s whole left ass cheek. With the other, she brings her fingers to his lips. What does this mean?

“Spit,” she says. Without understanding why, he obeys, mindlessly distracted by the bold hand that took ownership of his body.

She pulls the saliva drenched fingers away and brings them between her legs. Getting herself ready. Without help.

Kenji grinds against her, unsure if and when she’d be ready,and what exactly she’d want when she was, hiding his face in her neck. His expressions gave far too much away…

With no hesitation, Anastasia grabs the bare eager cock pressing into her thigh, closing her fingers around it, and allows the desperate boy to pump it in and out of her closed fist.

Kenji moves his hips, humping the powerful hand that held his body so intimately, just as beads of sweat begin to form across his forehead.

She breathes into his neck, in a patronizing tone a mother might use – “Good?”

He can only bring himself to let out the faintest whimper.

She positions the head near the entrance, and with no hesitation and zero resistance, it slides in.

Deep in a dream-like head-space, Kenji does not stop. With the same pitiful eagerness, he moves his body rhythmically on top of her, trembling hands gripping any part of her body he can, clenching nearly every muscle in his body. The real physical sensation was negligible compared to the fantasy of being inside a Goddess, fully absorbed by the dense meat of her body, the satisfaction of being allowed entrance to a sacred temple to which he was willing at any moment to volunteer himself as a blood sacrifice.

And before he can even bring himself back to consciousness,release comes like an overfilled tub, pouring over the edge. He finishes inside her.

They breathe, laying together in wordless pleasure, taking in the feeling of each other’s skin.

Then, in a sudden change in tone, he pulls away, “Oh my god,I shouldn’t – ,” now realizing what he just did, “I’m sorry, I should have pulled out.”

Anastasia laughs, brushing his hair to calm him. “Ohhh,sweetheart, no no, don’t worry about it. I’m on so many hormones, you couldn’t get me pregnant if you tried. Promise.”

With a massive sigh of relief, Kenji rests his head back down on her chest.

“You’re… incredible.” He says. “Unbelievable. I wish I could give you more…”

“You have given me everything I’ve asked for,” running her nails softly up his back, “You are exactly as I want you.”

🌹🌸🌹🌸

Anastasia and Kenji continue to meet. Not every week, not always on Sundays, but they make time. In the coming months they grow fairly acquainted with each other’s bodies. Exploring new pieces and new sensations, the tone staying very much like the last.

Kenji does not tell a soul. Not his nosy coworkers who asked about his weekend plans. Not his old friends who asked if he was still single.Not even his sister who desperately wanted to know what the good mood was all about. This was a pleasure he would not hear anyone else’s opinion on.

Anastasia had been musing. Paying close attention to Kenji’s mannerisms and offering him in anything in the world she might guess a young boy to want. What he chose indicated far more than inexperience. She refused to jump to conclusions as badly as she wanted to. She would test her hypotheses over and over, trying new positions, activities, games, allowing him complete freedom of choice…and yet, his actions were always consistent.

She knew what she wanted him to be. But to avoid projecting,she needed to remain as neutral as possible. It would have a been a bold assumption to make, even with substantial evidence, and even bolder to act upon.

Above all other things she had suggested in times past, this would require expressed verbal interest and permission.

The only way to find out for certain…was to pop the question. Because according to every observation thus far, she knew that he would never approach it on his own. Never.

🌹🌸🌹🌸

After the 6th time they meet, almost two months since the first, they lay together, naked in her bedroom, drenched in sweat with tingles of lingering pleasure.

She turns to Kenji. He turns to her. He’s just barely gotten comfortable enough to look her in the eyes without awkwardly recoiling.

“What?” he asks, almost sitting up. She places a hand lazily on his chest to prevent it.

“No no, I just…. I wanted to ask you something. Or… No. I wanted to tell you something.”

Kenji pauses, laying calmly, waiting for more.

“Can I?” she asks again.

He laughs, not understanding her hesitation. “Yes, of course. Anything.”

She looks him straight in the eyes and speaks honestly. “There’s a been a… a wedge.”

Yes there has, he thinks.

“We don’t really know much about each other,” she continues,“And that’s ok. I don’t expect to, I don’t plan to. But I think… this could be a lot more fun if…we got rid of the bullshit.”

…what?

“I trust you,” she says. “I feel comfortable being myself around you. And I hope I’ve done everything to allow you to be yourself around me.”

“Of course,” Kenji pipes in, “I’m not hiding anything, I promise.”

She interrupts, “Listen. I’m just going to tell you what I think. Don’t answer me yet. Just think on it. Ok?”

“Ok…”

“I think you’re a Sub. And I don’t think I need to explain to you what that word means because you already know. I think you know a lot of things you’re afraid to tell me. And I think…I think we could have a lot more fun if…we didn’t try to pretend.”

Kenji swallows. Blinks. “Well…”

“Here’s what I need you to know,” she concludes, “There is nothing, NOTHING in the world, I have not seen before. You will not scare me. So you have nothing to lose by bringing whatever you’ve got into this room.”

“Understood.”

“Good. That’s all.”

“Ok,” desperately biting his lower lip to avoid bringing attention to his expression, “Thank you.”

Before breaking eye contact, Kenji and Anastasia share a moment of unexpressed symbiosis, a warm pause laced with apprehension and long-awaited satisfaction. Like all at once the brick wall that for months had kept them strangely apart…was finally crumbling.

Next chapter.

