Miranda hadn't bothered trying to tell her dad on the phone that it would be two weeks before Ken could be in Maryland. She figured she could explain that later.

Once they had gotten outside, and on the ATV, they had both relaxed. Miranda had been right, they needed to get out of the bedroom.

She gave him directives as needed, but Ken was an outdoors person by nature and mostly just followed the available trails. He was in his element, thoroughly enjoying the day. He had never really seen the Rockies before, and was realizing that he had been missing out. The sheer size of the land out here was incredible. Wildflowers dotted the fields and when they did stop, they watched flocks of bluebirds flapping and darting through the tall grasses and short trees. They passed a small herd of elk, saw some pronghorn off in the distance, and had a lone gray wolf cross their path and disappear into the underbrush about a hundred yards in front of them. To Miranda's relief, and his disappointment, they didn't see any bear.

They had stopped to have the picnic lunch she had packed when the gas gauge was a little more than half full. They did have a back up supply hooked to the rear of the vehicle, but they both agreed they had gone far enough for the day. Miranda spread a plaid wool blanket down on a section of moss and they alternated between sitting on the ATV enjoying the views and longing on the blanket, nibbling on their meal and drinking bottled water. She had also packed a non-alcoholic bottle of sparkling cider, but no glasses, so they passed the bottle back in forth between them. It reminded Ken of dates he had had as a teenager, except then the bottle had been decidedly of the alcoholic version.

His favorite part of the whole trip had been Miranda's arms wrapped around his waist for nearly the whole day. The woman just grounded him. When they paused periodically at trail junctions or to just stop and admire the mountains, he would drop one or both hands back to hold her knees. He wanted to trail them seductively up her thighs, but given what had happened yesterday, he was trying to behave himself.

When they arrived back at the property, she called her dad from the downstairs phone as promised as soon as they got inside the residence. They were both tired, especially after taking care of the ATV and supplies and ensuring everything was cleaned and stored properly for next time. Miranda called for some delivery, and they showered and went to bed early.

Whatever they were doing, it seemed to be working for them. They were averaging two nights a weekend, or so, together, with a pattern of one of mind blowing, fairly rough sex, and one of rest and cuddling. Ken wouldn't have considered himself a cuddler, but with her, his body craved the contact. Whenever they were in the same room, they were nearly always touching.

Ken had still avoided making a move towards her the rest of the weekend though. His trip was also getting cut a bit short this time as the only flight she had been able to book for him for his return was just after midday Sunday. They had slept in, then had a leisurely breakfast that he had talked her into at least helping him to prepare. He had taken a quick shower, dressed, and they were heading out the bedroom door, his duffle in hand, when she stopped him.

Pushing him gently with her hands at the junction of pecs and shoulders, she backed him up into the open door, it shuttered almost comically with his weight against, still busted from him kicking it open Friday night. She licked her lips. "So, I seem to remember promising you something."

Ken swallowed, dropping his left arm down to the floor, allowing his bag to sink from his hand down to the ground. He really hoped he was right about what she was getting at. She slid her hands slowly down his front as she sank to her knees. Oh, fuck yeah! "Yeah, you did," he agreed.

As he watched, her slender manicured hands went for his fly. Now this was a sendoff. As she pulled his penis free of his clothes, his head fell back into the door. Fucking her was an experience in itself, but good God, he was in heaven when her lips were wrapped around his dick. She had gotten really good at it too. Her level of enthusiasm had definitely increased, along with her confidence, and with it her skill.

A few minutes later, he was tucking himself back into his jeans, spent and satisfied. He chuckled as he reached into his bag to handle her the travel bottle of mouthwash. When she left him at the gate and they kissed goodbye, he was feeling more than good.

It took him until Tuesday to see the same doorman who had helped Miranda on her surprise trip to him. Then it took said doorman until Wednesday evening to hear back from the cab driver, so it wasn't until Thursday that he had gotten the info about the Fifth Avenue stores that he had dropped her off at and picked her up from. The first he tried on his lunch break, didn't recognize the brand he remembered from the dress. He had gotten stuck at work after Evans handed him a last-minute update for his detail that weekend, so by the time he gotten to the second store, it was five minutes before closing. An over dressed middle aged woman was checking out at the register, talking a blue streak with the saleswoman. Ken looked around the shop. It was smaller and seemed less organized than the store he had been in at lunch, but still expensive looking. He felt and knew he looked out of place. He was just about to turn around and leave when a young man's voice greeted him from behind him.

"Can I help you, Sir?"

Ken turned. A young man, more of a boy, of he was guessing around thirteen, approached him. He was of average height for his age, slim, sandy haired, with intelligent sparkling green eyes, thick eyelashes and about the most delicate features he'd ever seen on a male. He was also impeccably dressed. Ken may not have known what he was doing in a shop like this, but he had a feeling the boy did. "Um, yes, I hope so." Ken ran a hand through his hair. "I'm looking for a dress, a particular dress, for my, ah, girlfriend."

"Did you have something more in mind?" the boy asked, speaking well beyond his years.

"It's actually a replacement, hers was, well damaged," Ken ignored the shoot of heat to his groin at the memory of his hands literally tearing it off of her, exposing her lithe curves and perfect creamy skin. "The brand was 'Rouge' and it was blue."

"Oh, yes, that's one of our boutique brands, from Argentina. We have several in blue, follow me please. Do you know her size?"

"Ah, no." This was going to be harder than he thought.

"That's ok," the boy responded. "We can figure it out, I'm sure. I'm Randy. My aunt and uncle own the shop. She's up front about to close up, but between the three of us, we'll be able to get it right."

Randy's confidence had been well deserved. He led Ken to a rack of dresses. Thankfully Ken recognized that same beautiful shade of blue and the dress that Randy slid off the rack seemed to have the same floaty ruffles he remembered. Next was the sizing. Ken spent an embarrassing few minutes describing Miranda's height, build, and features, including her breasts being compared to fruit of various sizes, and then holding his hands out to circle a pretend Miranda waist, followed by actually circling Randy's Aunt's waist, until the two clerks were satisfied that they had selected the correct size. The shop's door had already been locked and the lights lowered. Between the two of them, they spent an extra half hour or so past closing to help him. Ken ignored the exorbitant price tag as he handed Randy his credit card. He'd figure out how to pay for it somehow. Miranda's happiness was worth anything.

Randy looked at his name on the card. "So, Mr. Wheatley, I hope that you're satisfied and that you'll come back to see us again." His aunt had left already, asking her nephew to close. Randy handed a personal business card back to him with his American Express. "That's my card. I'm saving for medical school. I want to become an anesthesiologist. This is my side gig. But I adore fashion too."

Ken looked back at the young man. This was not a normal thirteen-year-old, but regardless, Ken liked him. He got the feeling this was not going to be his last contact with Randy. "I'll keep you in mind," he responded. "I have a feeling you're going to get what you want."

Randy winked at him, "You too. Hope your lady loves the dress, but if anything's not perfect, come back and ask for me personally."

Ken smiled as he left, having a strange thought, if Randy was a woman, he'd be sexy as hell in another couple of years. He shook his head; he must really be over tired.

He had wrapped the dress up in simple brown paper and tied it together with some of the cord from the roll in his closet. Miranda had been over the moon when he gave it to her when she arrived from the airport Sunday evening. She had kissed him her thanks and then completely stripped right in front of him to lie across his bed, telling him that he could take anything he wanted as a reward. He had laughed nearly maniacally at that offer, grabbing the roll of cord from the closet. He proceeded to tie her down by each appendage to each leg of his bed. 'Tied up with strings', definitely a few of my favorite things. He lovingly tortured her over and over again for a good hour, until she was begging him that the ties were biting into her with her last flailing orgasm. He had let her up, then finished them both off with her legs and arms wrapped headily around him and her nails digging into his back for good measure.

They'd gone to a late lunch at an outdoor café near the park on Monday. Miranda was still excited about his surprise. She had confided that she had been hoping to go back to the boutique herself. Somehow during the conversation, Randy got brought up. He had apparently helped Miranda when she had been there on the Saturday of her original shopping excursion.

"Oh, my God, did you see his eyelashes?" she asked. "Mine don't look like that even with mascara!"

"Ah, no," Ken had lied in response. "But between his wanting to be a doctor and his fashion sense, kid will likely have the girls eating out of his hands in a few years."

"Ah, you might want to rethink that one, hon," she responded, giving him a knowing look.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Um, remember our fight over Charlie?"

"Of course, turned into a very fond memory," he returned, trailing his fingertip down her forearm, until he noticed a remaining mark on her wrist from one of the cords the night before.

"And?" she prompted, "the reason that you had nothing to worry about?"

"Um, yeah," he answered, the gears turning. "Oh? You think?"

"Fairly certain, yeah."

Well, that would explain the weird vibe he had gotten and couldn't place. Had Randy been attracted to him? Did his aunt know? He was hoping that she wouldn't have left her thirteen-year-old impressionable nephew alone with a strange man if she had. Miranda brought him back out of his musings.

"Did you give him my name?" she asked. "He might have remembered me. I'm still impressed that you got the size right and everything."

"I didn't even think of that," Ken answered truthfully, "and you can thank the collective brilliance of Randy and his aunt about the size. I was at a loss."

She leaned over her plate to kiss him. "I'm still impressed."

They had decided to split up and meet back at his apartment after lunch. He had told her to tell Randy that he said hello, in case he was working in the afternoon after school. He had to admit, he liked the kid. He got her a cab and then headed to Times Square himself. Since Miranda seemed to be enjoying his debauchery almost as much, if not more than he did, he needed to see what other options were available for more comfortable restraints.