]
I enjoyed Ana's enjoyment as we flew above Mt St. Helen's and Spirit Lake. Commenting how much destruction took place. How deeply scared the terrain is and now recovering wonderfully. Saying something along the lines, "Given enough time, everything heals. Look at mother nature performing her magic." She spoke in a whisper regarding the people who died. It was as if she talking to herself. Pulling Charlie Tango from Toutle River Valley I want this to be a pleasant experience.
Deciding to cut our excursion a little short, landing at Escala's rooftop 10 minutes earlier than scheduled. Looking lovely in the copilot seat with a smile that's beaming ear to ear... taking off my cams pointing for her to remove hers I hear her laughing
"Thank you Christian, That WAS awesome!" Showing her age and loving her enthusiasm, it's positively infectious. If I didn't know better I think she's going to give me one of Elliot's high-five's.
Unbuckling myself while laughing as I lean over to unstrap her.
"I only fly for work and you're right Ana that was awesome." though in all honesty, it's all about the company I'm keeping.
"Come on Ana lets go inside." taking her hand I help her off Charlie Tango, wrapping my arm around her shoulder we make our way while dealing with gusty breezes from Elliot Bay as we walk across the rooftop. Punching the code on the code for the elevator. Quickly arriving.
As the doors open "Christian you know I can't help myself...I'm curious as to what your olive branch entails."
"Ana I hope to you will find it to be worth your time."
"Well I've been told I'm an optimist but if things go badly, the way I see at least I got a cool helicopter ride out of the deal." giving me a playful smirk and wink as the doors close.
It's the first time we've been in such an enclosed space and the hum between us potent. I see her eyes close and she leans her head against my arm, as if intoxicated while both her hands are entangled into my right hand, there is a small smile that breaches her face. I KNOW she feels it. It downright pulsates. As I watch her reflection on the mirrored wall I'm constantly repeating. You're doing to right thing, you're doing the right thing.
When I snap out of my trance it's too late to add toward the conversation, hearing that familiar muted ping with the elevator doors opening into the foyer. And the first person I see is my trusted Taylor always dressed sharp and crisp, he's the best and always on the ball even when I least expect it. He's worth his weight in any precious metal.
After Ana and Taylor meet formally, leading her into the penthouse we are greeted by Mrs. Jones aromas emanating from the kitchen. Having yet let go of her hand.
"Let me introduce you to Mrs. Jones. She keeps my home in tip-top shape and feeds me well."
watching as Ana inhales deeply and smiling... "Lovely to meet you Mrs. Jones. Dinner smells fantastic."
"Miss Steele it's my pleasure."
"Please call me Ana."
unsure as how to address her." Ana... Miss Steele... tonight's menu is aged standing rib-roast with whipped potatoes, asparagus, oven roasted brussel sprouts. A wild greens salad in a olive oil balsamic vinaigrette and openers are crab-cakes, remoulade sauce on the side."
I grin when Ana says. " Mrs. Jones this is like a Christmas feast in May. I look forward to dinner."
"Ana would you like some wine."
"Yes , please. Also a glass of water if you don't mind."
I watch as she kills off her water. Mumbling how she's always thirsty. Before moving on to the glass of wine Mrs. Jones poured. Taking a sip, commenting how fresh and lively the wine is.
She becomes all business. "Okay Christian, I would rather have a shot of Sambuca because I'm feeling nervous but wine will do."
"I can remedy that Ana." Walking to the hutch I pour her a small jigger's worth of sambuca. Holding her liquid courage in my hand. "Shall we?"
almost absentmindedly saying "My Peace offering..."
Leading her to my study, closing the door behind me. Waving my hand to the leather sofa across from the desk, she takes her seat in the corner. Making my way to the desk, I see that she is pressed up against the edge of the corner. I don't bother sitting in my chair, the last thing I want to do is present myself as "all commanding" sitting on the opposite end of the sofa I hand her drink the, which she kills off. Holding a couple files in my hand.
Handing her a folder "Ana., this is You" Then handing her the other folder "And this is Me."
Looking at the files "Christian you're making me feel like I can only read one? Is this what you're telling me?"
"No, No not at all Ana" realizing she needs clarity. "One is me and the other you. What I've learned about you and What I'm offering in return. It's only fair. I want you to read them both. In the order you select."
sounding somewhat emotionally detached."Okay. Thank you"
I watch as she opens HER folder first. Nothing there for the most part that can't be found on the internet. When she saw the articles relating to her grandparents death. Shedding a few huge droplets of tears. I was quick to offer my handkerchief, which she accepted. I knew then it was a tender spot with her. But that would be common knowledge or at least when scratching beneath the surface so I don't feel I pried. Yet it was the last page. The one that came on Monday from Welch that I saw her intensely react to. It was two CPS cases that are sealed, another related to a lawsuit brought on by her mother against her and two dealing with break-ins that were filed by a Uri and Ogla Kozak at her house at the Haight while she was a student at Berkely. Gotta hand it to Welch he can dig...
Ana stands up saying "I need another drink"
"I can do that for you Ana. Please sit."
"No, Christian you don't get it I need to get up, move and think. You offering me to get me a drink is not going to work. Please let me do this on my own... after all, where am I going to go at the moment?"
Letting her go, the instant she leaves the I hop over to my desk top linking up to the CCTV's from Taylor's office, because I'm paranoid enough to think she will bolt away. I watch as Ana mills around the living-room walking to where Mrs. Jones is in the kitchen. She's chatting her about cooking asking for tips on aging Rib Roast. Making a comment that her brussel sprouts always suck and her Dad refuses to eat them, as she laughs. After a couple pointers from Mrs. Jones, Ana excuses herself making her way to the hutch where the Sambuca is. Pouring herself a drink, she makes another before heading back to the study. Quickly putting my computer to sleep and jumping away by the time she arrives, she seems calmer. Handing me one of the drinks, she sits down to her corner of the sofa.
Not saying anything to me.
She opens up MY folder. The first few pages mention my net worth, various past corporate lawsuits, publications and assets in which she only glances, as if she couldn't give a shit about what I'm worth. Hell... who wouldn't care. It's only when we are exposing prior to being a multi-billionaire she seems to slow down. My first million, my Harvard years. The countless therapists (less details) My troubled youth getting kicked out of various prep-schools (less details). Ending up with my adoption by Carrick and Grace Grey after finding me starved next my dead mother. Yes, I omitted certain even lower-points, that are possible.
Ana hasn't spoken, instead she looks up staring at the blank wall in front of her, as if she's taking it all in. Then she looks over to me and there are tears embedded in her eyes. Surprising me by pounces on my lap. Her fingers tangle in my hair pulling me down to her mouth kissing me deeply. Oh yes I remember that kiss...
breaking out of our kiss. Ana sounding husky "Christian make love to me. Tonight...Now"
"Ana"... and as soon as saying her name I hear this loud grumbling sound coming from her stomach.
Looking mortified and laughing "Sorry about that, pay no mind to my tummy. Christian, right now all I want is you."
I can't help chuckling. "Ana you may want to have sex and I am right there in agreement with you, but there is only one thing that will take precedence over sex and that's hunger. So let's get some food in you, then we talk about fucking. We'll have plenty of time tonight. Giving her my trademark panty dropping smile, because I know she is... mine tonight.
Giving her chaste kisses along her face."Ana, stay the night?" while pulling her hair back
moaning..."Yes Christian"
Whipping her on the sofa so that I'm laying on top quickly placing her hands over her head, essentially locking her down. Looking down at her those beautiful blue eyes.
"Before we eat dinner I want another taste of you..." proceeding to lightly lick her supple lower lip before I firmly suck which makes Ana moan gently into my mouth, feeling her breath on my cheek.
Pushing her legs apart with my thigh, I grind my hard cock in to her, kissing her deeply which quickly turns into a dry humping make-out moment on the sofa. I'm as ravenous for Ana as she is for me. It's our first unrestricted encounter and I can't get enough.
I made it a rule to never kiss my submissives. Never kissed on the mouth. That's too much about intimacy and I don't do that with them. I only ate eat pussy, that was the closest I allowed our "closeness" to be. I never knew kissing face to face could be such a turn-on until Ana..
Ana's lips are full and moist. This little vixen tongue feels scorching hot my mouth and I want more. Breaking our kiss, leaning up from her chest while I release her hands. I see her reaching out to touch me and I freak out, leaping off her in break-speed.
The look on her face she's horrified and confused. "Christian I'm sorry, please tell me what I did to make you react that way."
"Ana it's not you. It's something stemming from childhood. A phobia of being touched." here comes the 1000 and 1 questions.
Sounding thoughtful "Christian I don't want to ruin this night placing a dark cloud over it by bringing up details. I just need to ask if it's area specific and what can I so that I won't trigger an attack."
Finding it difficult to reconcile she's dropping it so quickly. It gives me the inkling that she might have some sort of phobia of her own. It seems that she understands the language. Mentioning my chest and back. She nods not asking for further information. Talking her hand, tenderly kissing her knuckles.
I say "You must be starved. Let's eat. By the way when as the last time to ate something?"
"I had half a peanut butter honey sandwich for lunch"
"Ana you're so tiny, you need to more and healthier foods."
"Christian I eat organically and healthy. A friend was hungry so I have him half."
I don't like the fact that not only did she give some of food away when it looks like she clearly needs it, to top it off she gave it to some guy. It should be that men take care of women, not the other way around. It's a man's job to take care of the fairer sex.
Deciding to keep my mouth shut I don't want to ruffle feathers, we've been having such a wonderful time together. Making our way to the kitchen. I know Mrs. Jones well enough that she looks a little surprised seeing that I'm so openly affectionate with Ana. Standing behind her, having one arm draped around her neck and shoulder with her hand resting on the bend of my elbow and the other wrapped around her waist where her fingers are interlaced over mine while I'm resting my chin on the crown of her head. I am quickly finding myself a fan of cocooning Ana like this (and I don't care who sees it) creates a certain calmness. She feels great in my arms and am quickly becoming familiar of her body.
Our next problem arose when she asked Mrs. Jones to slice her a thinner slice of the Rib Roast. When I threw a stink Ana pulled her head away from my chin, turning up to look at me.
"Christian look at me and then you. Not only do you have considerable height and weight against me. I can not nor will I eat those sized portions. Let me ask you Mrs. Jones... if I don't finish what I have on my plate, do you throw out the food?"
Sheepishly Mrs. Jones says, "Yes I do Miss Steele."
"Christian, I'm not shy when it comes to food, though will admit there are some things my palate can't tolerate. I would rather eat what is on my plate and go back for seconds, then have too much that I can't finish which will be wasted."
Okay I can't argue that... making me smile. I love her view on food.
As we sit to eat. I smile when Ana holds true to her word. She is not shy when it comes to food. If anything she's rather enthusiastic. Enjoying and even humming at times over Mrs. Jones meal. I instinctively make a mental note. "Crab Cakes, Ana loves'em." even going back for seconds on the brussel sprouts and roast.
I find myself so turned-around by Ana. Her heart, warmth and compassion. I can't stop asking questions about her life. As I figure she may have had a military dad but she is all unconventional. I would love the opportunity to meet Ray. Apparently one of their favorite pass-times are Mariners games and fishing. Chartering boats for salmon and halibut also fly fishing. As Ana says, anything related to the water...
Ana told me a story the first time fly-fishing in Idaho when tripping in the fast streaming river and her hip waders ballooning up with water being drug downstream with Ray chasing after her. Personally I found it horrifying because I think you can drown in a couple inches of water yet somehow Ana made it funny as hell and found myself laughing out loud. So fucking adorable and unpretentious. I want to connect with Ana. I want to make her scream with pleasure, I need to show her my playroom. Unbeknownst to know her this is where we are going to fuck to night. My gut says she's a kinky girl. She acts one way, then yet another. She's full of slut-kink and doesn't know, I'm the Kink Master. I can't wait until she sees my playroom. I'm sure she'll be creaming her pants when she sees what I have to offer.
Finishing dinner. I want to whisk her off let her see the rest of me. Then she does something that I find very submissive. She offers to take my plates.
Taking her hand... "Ana leave it for Mrs. Jones."
Inhaling deeply my voice almost a whisper "I want to show you something" Walking up stairs with Ana I produce a key, unlocking the door, titillated with excitement, hitting the light switch which produces a dim glow.