Warning—descriptive sexual situations. This is a "Mature" story.
Part 3
They had finished their coffee and Trapper had passed on the tiramisu; he didn't want to become fat and lazy he had told her.
"How about a walk to ease digestion, you know, a little postprandial stroll." He watched her closely.
She returned his gaze. Ariadne tried to read Trapper as she read all men but couldn't. Ariadne couldn't decide if Trapper was on the level sexually or if he had some ulterior motive in making her acquaintance again. Obviously, he was an attractive man and he had money and an important position yet here he was, having come to the restaurant alone and asking if he could join her. She wasn't sure if that meant he was confident or pathetic. And she remembered that at the fund raising event, he had mentioned an ex-wife but at dinner he hadn't said anything about her or if he had any children or much of anything else; he was being as secretive about his personal life as she. She had tried to ask him direct questions but Ariadne had to smile at how deftly he bobbed and weaved, avoiding answering her questions, usually by asking her one.
"Why don't you just tell me what you want, Trapper?' she said. "Do you expect me to believe that you just want to platonically stroll with me down the streets of our fair city?"
"Why not? It's a beautiful city and a beautiful night. We could ride the streetcar and walk in Golden Gate Park. Or we could go back to my place and we could screw—oh, I'm sorry if I was vulgar; we could fornicate." Trapper watched her carefully to gauge her reaction.
"Your place? Now wouldn't I be a fool to go back with you and have sex with a man I don't know."
"Well, I don't know you and I'm willing and I assure you, I don't have a dungeon with whips and chains—but then, that's your territory, isn't it?"
"And I suppose you think that's clever, getting in a snide remark whenever you can?" Ariadne found herself excited by him and as the evening had gone on, she came to desire him more but it had been so long since she had slept with a man and here was one who may be more than she could handle.
Trapper just smiled. "I apologize. I guess I have been picking on you a bit. Well, how about it? We could talk, listen to music…just have a pleasant night."
Ariadne stared at him. Part of her wanted to go but another part of her was screaming a warning; he could easily work his way into her heart. And she wouldn't allow that again. "I tell you what—I'll follow you. How does that sound?"
He chuckled. "It sounds like a kiss-off."
"I said that I'd follow you. Don't you believe me?"
Trapper stood up and went to pull out her chair. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. "No, I don't believe you at all."
Ariadne said nothing, just smiled at him and Trapper helped her with her wrap and then escorted her out to the valet parking, exchanging goodnights with Dominic.
~ 0 ~
As he drove, Trapper kept glancing in his rearview and it seemed as if Ariadne had told the truth; she was following him and when he opened his garage and pulled in, she parked on the driveway behind him. He stepped out to help her from her car.
"See, a nice upper-class neighborhood—zoning code strictly prohibits dungeons and whips."
Ariadne looked at him with no emotion; she wanted to smile, to relax around him but she knew that she had to keep up her guard. John McIntyre was the type of man she feared. "Let's just go inside and don't waste my time."
"Yes, ma'am," Trapper said and led her inside. She looked around the living room.
"You have some lovely pieces," she said, running her fingertips over a gilt frame of an oriental painting.
"Thank you. Wine?" he asked as he moved toward the wine rack.
"No, no wine for me. Did you decorate the place?"
"No. My ex."
Ariadne ran her hand over the back of the couch feeling the fine fabric. "Always here as a reminder of her, aren't they?"
Trapper said nothing, just watched her. She glanced at him; he looked serious. Ariadne opened her purse, pulled out her phone and looked briefly at the messages and then shut it off.
"No more business tonight," she said when she saw he was watching here. "Where's your bedroom? Upstairs?"
"Yes, second door on the right." She nodded and Trapper followed her up, watching her round, firm buttocks shift from side to side as she climbed the stairs and the movement of her calves and narrowness of her ankles excited him. He thought how he would like those legs locked around his neck with his face buried between her legs, her buttocks gripped in his hands. Trapper took a deep breath in anticipation.
And without another word or looking at him, Ariadne began to undress. Trapper watched and was about to say something but Ariadne seemed to treat everything without emotion, he thought, even getting fucked. So Trapper quickly undressed as well but he slid under the sheets before she was finished and pulled a foil pack out of the nightstand drawer. When Ariadne pulled her slip off over her head, Trapper groaned and grabbed himself to quickly roll on a condom; Ariadne wore a garter belt and stockings but no underpants; he hadn't seen a woman in a garter belt outside of a strip show—and that was only for men to tuck in bills-since he was a young man. Women in garter belts had aroused him then and they aroused him now. So he controlled himself with effort while she leaned over slightly and unhooked her bra, releasing her breasts. Then she started to unhook her stockings.
"Don't, Leave them on," he growled harshly. Ariadne glanced at him and stopped. "Come here."
She said nothing but walked over to the side of the bed and he moved toward her. Her curly patch of hair stood out against her white skin and the black garter belt framed the area. He pushed his nose into her bush and smelled her. Her scent excited him. Unlike men who adored perfumes and such, Trapper liked the natural smell of a woman's body. When he and Melanie were still married and still desirous of one another, after a hard game of tennis, Trapper wouldn't let her shower and then, once they were home, pull her into bed and take her, inhaling her sweaty, musky smell. On the other hand, Melanie was repulsed by the whole idea and the smells of sweat and sex and soon, she refused him all together until after they had both showered-separately.
Ariadne held his head, running one hand down the back of his neck and noticing the soft curls at the base. Oddly, they moved her, and she gently ran her fingers through them. Trapper stuck his tongue into the thatch of hair and explored her, sliding his tongue between the folds until he felt the hard nub and he gently pushed against it with his tongue. She shook slightly.
He looked up at her; she wasn't cold and reserved anymore. She was breathing heavily, her rounded breasts heaving and the nipples hard, the skin around them twisted and puckered.
"Come here," he said, lying back in the bed and she did, gingerly putting one knee on the mattress until he grabbed her and pulled her to him. And neither of them said another word. Their mouths were filled with each other as they rolled around on the bed, legs wrapping around each other and grunts and moans escaping them. Trapper wanted to consume her, devour her and he tried to keep his mouth filled with her soft, pink flesh as she twisted and turned to escape his demanding hands, mouth and body. His teethy nips at her breasts, her buttocks, the tender flesh between her legs, drove her mad. She plunged with him into sensations she had never felt, how he pushed his way past her tight muscles that seemed to want to keep him out but he filled he, aided by her slickness and her hands gripping his buttocks. Together, they eased his entrance and made her cry with a desire she thought she was incapable of feeling. Ariadne clung to the broadness of his shoulders as he moved over her, their bodies fusing as if the heat of their desire for one another would meld them together. And she cried out in her attempt to pull away from him, to escape the constant, urgent thrusting of his body but couldn't, actually didn't want to except for her fear. But she felt herself begin to enjoy the pleasurable sensations that flowed through her until finally, she gave in all together, released herself to all the sensations he provided. Then, as she still held him, Ariadne felt his body become tense until he too, after a long, low moan, was relaxed and lying on top of her while kissing her neck and breasts and then her mouth, their bodies, both slick with sweat.
And then, she gently rolled away from him and went to pick up her clothing. She stepped into her heels and reached for her bra.
"What are you doing?" Trapper asked as he lay on his back watching her.''
She looked at him as if he were a child. "Why, I'm dressing. I did what I came for and now I'm leaving."
Trapper chuckled as he threw an arm over his forehead. "Leaving? Well, you were a good fuck, I have to say that. You just might consider being a hooker. I'd pay you." He glanced at her. "Oh, I should ask-do you want me to pay you for tonight? I'll be glad to. I'll throw in a big tip as well."
Ariadne slipped her dress over her head and then reached behind her to zip it up. "Go to hell."
He laughed and she became angrier. He felt mean; she was deserting him after an emotionless fuck—at least on her part. "Well I suppose that you're what every man dreams of—a good fuck and then immediately after, you go and don't even require cab fare."
Ariadne picked up her bag and her wrap and felt for her car keys. Then she glared at him and turned to leave.
Trapper gingerly unrolled the condom, tossed it in the trash and pulled on his jeans that he kept over a chair by the bed. He knew he should wash his hands but there wasn't any time. Trapper caught up with her just as she was opening his door and leaving into the night. He grabbed her arm and swung her to face him.
"Don't go. Stay awhile. I'm sorry for what I said. We can talk."
She pulled her arm away. "I have nothing to talk about."
"I'd like to see you again. How can I…call you? Get in touch with you."
"You can't." She stalked out of his house and barefoot and bare-chested, he followed her out onto the driveway. She didn't wait for him to open her door but swung the door open and slid in, slamming it quickly. Trapper stood watching, his hands on his hips.
"Wait!" He waved one hand and she stopped. He went to the driver's side and Ariadne rolled down her window, coldly assessing him. "What's your actual name?" he asked. "Please. I'd like to know who I just…" Trapper searched for the right words. "…slept with."
She gave a small laugh and then exaggerating the understatement said, "Yes, we slept together. Why not tell you? It's Ann. Just a simple name—Ann." She rolled the window up and Trapper stepped away as she backed out her car and then drove away but not before Trapper caught the last four numbers of her car's plate.
"Ann," Trapper said to himself, smiling. He realized that he had needed to know her name and that maybe he'd see her again and this time he would call her Ann. Her name became like a magic spell-a word that would bring her into his life as a full human being. Ann. And he definitely wanted to see Ann again because as sexually satisfying as their encounter had been, he still had the unfulfilled yearning for a woman to share his life. And Trapper smiled to himself. He knew that he should just accept what happened and move on but he couldn't and the rest of the night and for days afterward, the name Ann became his mantra and he heard its sound with every beat of his heart.