Unlikely meeting (Closed for Tio_Narratore)

[AnnieLit]

Nataly Kowalski was sitting in her car staring at her dead phone. How in the world did this happen?! How did she manage to run out of gas 10 miles from home and with a kid in the back seat?! Of course, she knew the answer - she had no money. The child support from her ex was late again and fixing the busted boiler took all the little savings she had. She hoped that they will make it through this grocery run and then a few days later the transfer from her ex will come. Or she will finally get paid for the designs she sent out two weeks ago. Or she will win a lottery.

And yet the question of "how in the world" was popping into her head more and more often these days. Where did her life take the turn to lead her to a single mom life with a three year old in the middle of nowhere?

She was a city girl through and through, she loved her NY life she built for herself - she had friends that were fun, she had job that paid the bills, and she had her tiny studio apartment that was just enough for a person that wasn't spending much time at home.

Her corporate job was boring, but it was strictly 9 to 5, so she had enough time to help out with gallery openings, to model at high end events, and to work on her own designs when she had clients. And to shoot. Photography was her passion. Wednesday afternoons were set aside just for that - rain or shine she would take her camera and wonder the streets.

One of her clients, a young and ambitious trader that wanted his flat to be just right, became a lover. Something went wrong with her prescription and she got pregnant. Nataly was from a good Polish Catholic family, so abortion wasn't an option. Andrew did the right thing and got married. But there was not much love in that marriage - they were from very different worlds. For him it was all about money. For her money were the means to get by, but never the end goal.

They lasted for three years and then quietly got divorced. She got full custody as Andrew didn't have time or interest for a two year old Lily. They moved out of the city into her old grandmother's house. At the time it seemed like a good idea - no rent to pay, clean air for the kid, what else one needs to raise a child? What she didn't think about was the money. All her income was tied to the city, out here, all alone, she couldn't find a job that would pay enough to cover the daycare cost! And because of the child support she was not eligible for any government payments either.

She's been here for almost a year now and usually they were ok, unless things piled up and today she hit the rock bottom - wasn't able to put enough gas in her car to get them home.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

It was five years since Frank Cavanaugh had left the city, had left his job on the Street. It was his gift to himself for his fortieth birthday. A gift that came ten years earlier than he had expected. Fifteen million dollars. That was his gift. He had been a trader and was good at it. Very good. He had his first million at twenty-five, and after that the money flowed in. Speculation and investment fueled his retirement. He had enough now to retire as he wished, living the life of the -relatively - independently wealthy, though he still did some trading on his own.

A house in Tuxedo was one of his dreams, and now he had one. Twelve rooms and eight acres. Twelve rooms and an indoor/outdoor swimming pool. The rooms? All spacious - a kitchen centered on an antique oak table, a fitness room beside the pool, a fully equipped entertainment room, a living room and a dining room, an office. And a one-and-a-half-story study on the first floor. And upstairs, an enormous master bedroom and four guest rooms, all with private baths, more than ample to host party guests as well as a single visitor.

It was close enough to the City to visit, far enough away to live with no strings attached. And visit he did, two or three times a month for his favorite pleasures. Ballet was at the top of his lest, followed closely by concerts. Art exhibitions were a draw for him as well, and the occasional opera struck his fancy. Seasons tickets to the Met and to the NYC Ballet, and their galas too. His companions? Dates, occasionally, but mostly escorts. Special escorts who’d satisfy his desires after the show. Ropes, whips, canes and such were part of his weekend packing. There were also longer trips, mostly for the same entertainment. In the States. In Europe. Today he was on his way home from Philly.

A ways off his exit, not far from the road to his house, he spied a car stopped, facing the other way, with a woman standing beside it. He slowed as he approached, then pulled over and stopped. He paused as he looked her way; she was stunningly beautiful. And vulnerable: she was clearly agitated and in some degree of distress.

“Do you need a hand?” he asked with a smile as he got out of his Rivian SUV. “My name’s Frank, Frank Cavanaugh. I live near here.”

He introduced himself in hopes of calming any fears a young woman with car trouble on a back road might have.

 

[AnnieLit]

Nataly noticed the slowing down car and got tense when she saw that the driver was a male. There wasn't much traffic and she definitely needed help. What choice did she really have? Send him away, (and hope that he can be sent away), and wait for a nice old lady that might or might not be passing by in the next couple hours?

She smiled and put her hand in her back pocket. Just in case. Her keys were there. With a small pepper spray can attached to them. Will it help if he tried anything? Not much, and she knew that. All it would do is buy her some to get inside and lock herself in the car. But she couldn't drive away. For that she needed gas.

"Hello Frank Cavanaugh", she said with the sweetest smile she could master, "I really could use some help, but ... Do you happen to have a gas can with you? A gallon or so will be enough..."

He smiled back and shook his head.

"No, sorry, my car doesn't use gas. But I can call AAA for you if you want, they deliver."

Nataly's smile faded: "No, thanks. I ... I can't pay them."

"Oh", Frank looked at her more closely. And at the car. Her clothes were nice and clean, but definitely not new. And the car could have used new tires probably about a year ago.

"How about this: I can drive you to the gas station, buy a jerry there, fill it up and drive us back. You get the gas, I keep the can. I have another car that might use it. Deal?"

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you do it?"

"Because...", he was struggling for words that wouldn't offend her but decided that either she is ok with his view of the world or she is not, there was no way to stay in the middle. "Because you are a beautiful woman and a damsel in distress. And I can't just leave you all alone here. I can call AAA and pay them myself, but that will take much longer than us getting to the gas station and back. That's all the why there is."

"And, by the way, what's the fair lady's name?"

"Nataly. And I am not all alone." She saw the puzzled look on his face and pointed to the back seat. "Lily, my daughter. She is asleep, it was a long day for her. "

Frank noticed a pile of blankets on the back seat and a little hand sticking out.

"That's ok, she is coming with us. Do you have a car seat?"

Nataly grabbed some old receipt from the glovebox and jotted down a note:

"Frank Cavanaugh picked up Nataly Kowalski and her daughter Lily at 4 pm on June 25. They went to a gas station and will be right back. Frank's plate number is..." she stepped aside to be able to see his plates, "NY A27-0765."

"This will stay in the car."

"Street smart, aren't you?" there was a mix of appreciation and amusement in his voice. "Can never be too careful."

The booster seat went in the back of the Rivian and Nataly woke up her daughter.

"Lily, meet Frank. Frank - this is Lily. We are going for a short ride with him to get some gas. Come on girl, lets strap you in."

"Mommy, I am thirsty!"
"Sure, let's take your bottle with us."

Kid safely strapped in the back Nataly looked over at Frank and had to look away for a second.

The tension was gone, she decided to trust him with this ride, so she was able to really look at him. And she liked what she saw. No, she wasn't looking for a date. She wasn't really looking for anything other than a way to get home in one piece, but she was a woman and when she saw what she liked her body reacted to it, whether she wanted it to or not.

He was older than her, probably in the mid 40s, with some grey in his hair that created that perfect salt-and-pepper look. Definitely fit, no dad bods here, but most importantly he radiated so much of easy confidence that she for a second got overtaken by it. It was borderline arrogance, but not quite - there was no malice in his offer, she didn't feel that there was any second meaning behind all this.

She got in the passenger seat.
"Let's go?"

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Cavanaugh paused as he opened the driver’s side door. Nataly was, indeed, stunning, and his eyes roamed briefly over her trim and delicate body before focusing on her face. Her beautiful face. Her enticing face. He quickly took his seat before she might notice his stare.

Off they went. The gas station was a bit over five miles down the road, so Frank started chatting with his passenger. Light talk, of course: what was she doing out, which turned to talk of landscape and photography; were did she live, how old was Lily, and such.

Once at the gas station, Frank decided to fill two jerry cans; ten gallons should help the girl out a bit. He gave some thought as to what else he might do for her without it seeming like he was treating her like a pauper or trying to pick her up. No ideas, though, so he decided he’d just leave a couple of fifties in her car after he filled her tank.

More chatting on the way back to her car, and he found out she was a designer.

“You know, Nataly,” he said, “I’ve been thinking of redoing the bedrooms at my place. There’s four guest rooms and the master. I’d definitely like them all different. Could I hire you for a consultation? And to finish the job if I like what you come up with?”

They arrived at her car and he emptied the cans while Nataly transferred Lily back to her car.

 

[AnnieLit]

The drive to the gas station felt much longer than it actually was. Nataly felt his eyes on her before they started off and the chit-chat during was a little bit forced. Like the guy tried too hard not to show that he liked what he saw.

She smiled to herself. She still got it and didn't mind this subtle confirmation. He didn't look dangerous, wasn't going to drive her and Lily to some abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods and keep them chained there for years.

If all he wanted was a ride with a pretty girl by his side, Nataly was happy to be that girl.

She answered his questions about what she did, where she lived, and all that. But when it was her turn to ask, his answers didn't make much sense. He was in his mid 40s, but he also "got away from the crazy rhythm of NY" a few years back. He wasn't a writer that needed quiet to finish a novel. He didn't have an online business that he could run from anywhere. It didn't sound like he was in any business at all. Early retirement? But who can afford to retire this early?! Through her ex Nataly heard about traders that made it big and left, but that was so rare that it sounded more like an urban myth. Most traders couldn't give up the adrenaline rush of a win and stayed much longer than they should. Maybe he was one of those unicorns that managed to get out?

At the gas station Frank paid for 10 gallons. Nataly tried to protest, 5 would have been more than enough to get them home and then to a different pump when she had some money, but he insisted and she didn't protest too hard.

“I’ve been thinking of redoing the bedrooms at my place. There’s four guest rooms and the master. I’d definitely like them all different. Could I hire you for a consultation? And to finish the job if I like what you come up with?”

Wow! That was unexpected! A 5 bedroom house that needed to be redone. And from the sound of it with more or less unlimited budget. Every designer's dream, right?

But Nataly hesitated - she saw that earlier look in his eyes, so she was pretty sure that new wallpaper and pillows was not all he was hoping for. He wanted her company and she wasn't sure if she wanted his. She liked the looks, that wasn't the problem. She liked the general vibe, that wasn't the problem either. Or maybe it was - she liked that vibe a little bit too much.

"Could you please email me the plans, some current photos and a few words of which direction you want to go in with each room? Are we talking one uniform look? Or a different theme for each room? I need to see what we are talking about. Here... What's your phone number, I will text you my email."

She didn't want to make any decisions in front of him, it is so much easier to say no in writing.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Frank handed her a calling card, but was disappointed that she didn’t want to come see the place in person. He chalked that up to her concern with . . . safety, perhaps, just as she left the note in her car when they went for gas. And maybe, he thought, it was a response to her unconsciously recognizing her own vulnerability.

“Okay, Nataly,” he agreed, “I’ll get on that tomorrow and get it ti you as soon as I can.”

His wallet was still in his hand from giving her his card, and he slipped four fifties out.

“Here,” he said, “take a deposit for your work. It’ll reassure me that you’ll give the project serious consideration.”

He took his leave of Nataly and Lily and headed home.

He may have left her, but she didn’t leave him: her image stayed in his mind, occupying his thoughts. Yes, she was attractive. Very attractive. Incredibly attractive. And her beauty wasn’t all that attracted Frank; that feeling of vulnerability that he sensed in her made her even more desirable. Yes, he’d like to bed her. And more. But he also wanted his rooms redesigned.

All he had done since he bought the place was furnish it. Nice furniture, but no real thought of decor. His visitors had occasionally commented on it, and he had been considering it seriously. The fact that Nataly was a designer spurred him into it, but it wasn’t just to lure her that he decided on it. The next morning, Thursday, he was up early and busy with his phone taking pics. When he was done he saved them in a zip file and went to the email address the girl had given him.

Nataly, the pics are in the attached zip file. I’ve done four of each room and a few more of the rest of the house, inside and out, so you could get a visual feel for the place. There’s a couple of the grounds as well.
If you would like to see the place in person, I’ll be home all weekend Friday through Sunday. Probably the following few days as well. If you don’t have a baby sitter, Lily is welcome to come with you. Bring some of her toys, and I’ll keep an eye on her while you look around.
Frank

He hit send, and hoped that she would come.

 

[AnnieLit]

When Frank offered to pay an advance he caught Nataly off guard. Usually, the deposit was paid after the proposal and then the balance at the completion of the project. But she sure could have used some money now. Even not use, but know that her wallet wasn't empty was a good thing.

The problem was, she wasn't sure if she wanted to take this project on. Or even if she could. Pretty often she had seen clients spring a whole gut rehab at her when asking for a re-design. In NY it wasn't a problem - she was friends with an architect that she worked with on quite a few projects and she knew several pretty good general contractors that could handle these jobs. But here she didn't know anybody and putting a team together wasn't something she could pull off.

'I can always send it back if it doesn't work out'

The whole evening her thoughts were turning back to the details of the encounter, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find any red flags.

The next morning she woke up with a smile on her face and an image of Frank's hands on the wheel, somehow the hands were what impressed her the most. She thought about those hands on her body, roaming, exploring, claiming... Her left hand automatically went to her breast and pinched a nipple, her right started to slide down her naked body...

'Stop! I need to stop right now! I don't even know if he is single! He can be married and have three kids!'

Only there was no ring. And the pristine car didn't look like a family car at all, it was very unlikely that any kids ever been in it before Lily.

When the bank opened Nataly checked her account. Nothing. No transfers came in and her balance proudly stand at $0.57.

The design project that she finished a week ago was done through an app that connected clients and designers. She worked for them before and was always paid on time, so something had to be wrong.

She called the support and left a voice message. In ten minutes she got a call back and her answer - all payments are made at the end of the month. She must have missed an email with the announcement about the switch from immediate to monthly payments, but there was nothing she could do about it. She will be paid, but in three weeks, not now.

Lily's dad was on a trip out of the country, so calling him and making him fix whatever was wrong with his transfer wasn't going to happen any time soon either.

The prospect of working for Frank all of a sudden looked much better - she would rather evade advances of a married man than acknowledge her defeat and ask her parents for a loan. Plus there was a chance that he is not married.

She told herself that she didn't have to worry about any of that - she had the Frank's four fifties in her wallet. She wasn't going to use them until she was actually hired for the job, but it made her feel little bit more secure to know that if needed, food and gas could be paid for. The bills would have to wait.

After breakfast she took Lily for a walk. It was a perfect mild day and they both loved the trail that went right by their house. Birds, squirrels, butterflies - everything fascinated the little child and Nataly loved watching her excitement and answering never ending why questions.

When they got back Lily was ready for a nap and Nataly opened up her laptop to check if any new projects came up on the app. Nothing interesting was there, just the usual crowd of people trying to turn their houses into multi million dollar mansions on a $10 budget. She learned to avoid them a long time ago, there was no way to satisfy these people. And she needed to keep her rating high to have any hope of landing any real projects.

Her email pinged. It was the letter from Frank with the pictures of his house. Wow! The house was beautiful! Large bright rooms with high ceilings and the elegance of the old architecture. They were bare, sure, but the furniture that was there was functional and so bland, that it wouldn't even need to be replaced - it would be easy enough to dress it up to match any style.

And about the style. She asked Frank to send her his vision for these rooms, but he didn't. She wasn't surprised, most clients ignored this request, not because they didn't have any vision, but because they didn't have the vocabulary to describe it. It was her job to present them with options, to walk them through all the possibilities, and from their responses create the space they will be happy in. Corporate design is different, but residential requires a lot of cooperation between the designer and the final user of the space.

And cooperation means time spent together. Time spent with Frank. In his beautiful house. The thought made her heart to beat a little faster. Frank. Yes, she was taking on this job.

He said any time from Friday till Sunday. Friday was the next day, she needed more time to prepare mood boards and to build a few 3D models of his rooms in different styles. Saturday afternoon was a more realistic goal.

She called her neighbour, Mrs Stevenson, who sometimes stayed with Lily when Nataly needed to leave on her own. Yes, she was availble on Saturday afternoon and would be happy to spend some time with Lily.

Nataly picked this time as the girl will sleep part of the time and then play with the babysitter. She figured that 1 to 5 pm should be enough - about an hour drive each way plus a couple hours there to take the measurements and to talk about the details. And to not think about those hands roaming all over her body.

"Got the pictures, your house is gorgeous! Will 2 pm on Saturday work for you?"

The email sent, she set out to start the work.
For now "Frank Cavanaugh" folder had only his photos in it, in two days it needed to be filled with options on what these spaces could become.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

“The time is fine,” Frank mailed back, “Will Lily be with you?”

Cavanaugh was pleased that Nataly accepted the commission; he really needed the work done and he felt good giving it to someone who needed it. He questioned himself as to his motive; after all, she was stunning, but he concluded if it was just to seduce her, he would have been more direct and just invited her out.

That raised the thought, the image of her, in his mind, though, and he fell into a reverie of sensual delight. He pictured himself slowly undressing her, caressing her flesh with his large and strong hands, caressing every inch of her, massaging, kneading, stroking softly. And then taking her up in his arms to bring her to his bed, a very romantic scene, indeed. He snapped out of it, and returned his focus to issues at hand.

If she were coming that late in the afternoon, he thought, that would confirm she’d be alone. But that also wouldn’t be enough time to seduce her. He definitely wasn’t looking for a quickie with a woman that beautiful; he’d want to savor her, make love to her slowly, exploring many paths to pleasure for himself and for her. Still, he had some preparing to do for her visit.

The house needed to be straightened up, and his maid service wasn’t due until Monday. He’d have to take care of everything himself. Friday would be devoted to that, and he laughed, reflecting on the idea of himself anxiously preparing for a female visitor.

Today, though, he’d take it easy. A swim, a little workout, a bit of drawing . . . Drawing was something he always did; in his youth he once imagined himself becoming an artist. Not enough money to be made there, though, not enough for his long-term plans. Now he had the wealth and the free time to freely enjoy sketching and such. After a light dinner, he got out a pad and charcoal pencils and began sketching. Sketching Nataly, from memory. Another reverie, and this time she was posing for him, naked, save only for the ropes binding her hands and feet. The image aroused him, and it was some time before he returned to the sketch pad.

That night he dreamed of her, erotic dreams, of course, and almost surreal in tehir eroticism. He woke himself up, and worried that he was becoming fixated on Ms. Kowalski. He resolved to be entirely professional with her on Saturday.

The house was completely in order by Friday afternoon, and he spent the evening on line, looking over various room designs, hoping to learn enough to talk reasonably with her. On Saturday he went out early to the garage. Remembering her plight, he filled the two new jerry cans to give her to keep in her car, just in case. Lunch, then, and the wait for her arrival.

 

[AnnieLit]

“The time is fine,” Frank mailed back, “Will Lily be with you?”

"No, I will be on my own."

There were five rooms to design, so Nataly decided to limit the options to five different styles and then modify them based on Frank's response. He didn't look like he needed a Barbie style room in his house, but still she wanted to show what adding some colour might do to a space. After trying this and that Nataly settled on her list: boho, minimalist, art deco, mid-century modern, and Moroccan. The last one was her favorite, but she never had a client that was brave enough to go for it. Still, she wanted to try.

Well into the Thursday night was spent pulling pictures of rooms and pieces to explain what each style was about.

On Friday when Lily was napping and then later in the evening when the girl was soundly asleep, Nataly worked on her 3D models. She didn't have time to build all five, but two for the same room should be enough to give him an idea of what she was offering. She picked the minimalist and the Moroccan one for the maximum contrast. Measurements had to be estimated from the pictures, but having some furniture in Frank's photos helped with that. She threw it all in AutoCAD, added the pieces that he had, and made the details to match the style. With Moroccan she had so many pieces already saved from prior projects that she didn't have to look for anything new - the room started to take the shape almost immediately. Rugs, curtains, cushions were adding colours and patterns. And the fanoos, the Moroccan lights, were giving it the distinct exotic look.

With the minimalist it was a bit harder, but by Saturday morning that was finished as well.

Nataly was getting uncharacteristic jitters. Sure, she always was a bit nervous before the first client meeting or the start of an event she was modeling for, but this was different. Frank was a potential client, but he also was a potential... she couldn't put her finger on exactly who. At least not a random fuck, she had a couple of those since the divorce and he didn't feel like the type.

She tried to put all that aside and concentrate on getting ready. Get all the files transferred to the iPad - done. Find the lazer tape measure and put fresh batteries in - done. A notepad and a pen went into her bag next.

Nataly made a light lunch, fed Lily and put her down for a nap. A quick shower and she was almost ready except for one thing - her outfit. In the winter she liked to dress in all black for business meetings adding some bright scarf or a piece of chunky jewelry. In the summer she usually wore all white or tan outfits. But today she wanted something bright as if to demonstrate what adding a splash of colour can do to the otherwise boring rooms.

She pulled out a short halter dress that had waves of bright colours all over it. Blues and reds, with some greens and yellows mixed in for good measure. It was perfect!

She pulled on her favorite wood heeled sandals right when Mrs. Stevenson knocked on the door.

"Hello, hello! Come on in", Nataly opened the door for the neighbor. "Lilly is asleep, her snack yogurt is in the fridge, you know where her toys and books are. And you have my number, so please call if you need me. I will be about an hour away from here and should be back by 5. Thank you again for helping out!"

"Oh, don't mention it!" the older women smiled, "You know I love spending time with Lily, she is the same age as my granddaughter, only I don't get to see Jenny much."

She gave Nataly a look over:
"A date? Who is the lucky guy?"

"No, no," Nataly was quick to protest, "it's a client meeting. Well, a potential client, I am not hired yet. "

"A client? If you say so ... I have seen before how you dress for client meetings and this is not that."

"Do you think it's too much? Should I change?", there was panic in Nataly's voice as she really needed to go.

"No, you look perfect. The client is a male, right? And probably a single one?"

Nataly just nodded.

"Go get him! As a client or as a ... whatever else you want him to be. Moms need to have some fun too, you know that, right?"

They both laughed and with that Nataly left.

An hour later she was pulling into a long driveway that led her to a beautiful house sitting on top of a small hill. In person it was even more impressive than in the pictures.

She saw the familiar car parked on the side of a small courtyard. She parked next to it, checked her hair in the car mirror, and walked to the door.

Her heart skipped a beat as she raised her hand to ring the the bell. To her surprise the doorbell played the Jingle Bells melody! She laughed and made a mental note to ask if this was something that Frank wanted to keep, assuming it came with the house and wasn't deliberately installed by him.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Cavanaugh woke early on Saturday, after another night of dreams. A light breakfast, and then a swim. Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday were generally swim days, though he often swam other days and missed his regular days. His planned regular days, at any rate. Then it was time, he decided, for a bit of fitness training. Into the exercise room for another hour’s workout. Time for a shower, and then out to the deck in back.

All that exercise, however, didn’t take his mind off Nataly. He had resolved to be professional, but his subconscious apparently wouldn’t allow that; erotic images of her kept floating into his mind. He took his pad and pencils with him to the deck, hoping some landscape sketches would calm him down.

As he sketched, his mind returned to something he had given little thought: the master bedroom. His room. He put his pad down and headed upstairs.

He wondered if he should let her explore his room for planning design? He looked at his oversized four-poster bed. What would she think of the iron rings positioned all along the posts as well as the side boards, head and foot boards, and the canopy frame? And the ones on the wall?

He went into the walk-in closet and opened one of the cabinets. An array of whips, floggers, canes, crops, and such hung there. The draws below held ropes, shackles, vibrators, and other sex toys. Would she consider that in her design? After all, it was part of who he was and how he lived. Yes, he decided she should see it all. If she were going to do a good job, she should know everything.

Back downstairs, then, and a light lunch. Clean-up, and final prep for Nataly’s arrival. The doorbell rang. Jingle bells. Frank laughed. That’s what it played when he moved in, and he would have changed it, but he could never decide what to replace it with. He opened the door.

“Hi, Nataly,” He said cheerfully, “come in.”

He led her to the living room and offered her an armchair near a coffee table; he saw she had a portfolio with her and figured she had stuff to show him.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked. “Alcoholic or non?”

 

[AnnieLit]

The door swang open and there he was: jeans, t-shirt, bare feet and a wide smile.

“Hi, Nataly, come in.”

The door led into a wide foyer with kitchen on the right, living room on the left, and the stairs leading to the second floor. There might have been other rooms in the back, but Nataly couldn't see them from the door.

All white walls, dark wood floors, a nice entryway table with some letters scattered on it. This part of the house was perfect as it was - clean and simple.

Frank led her to the living room and just one glance at it confirmed Nataly's suspicion that he didn't mention anything else besides the bedrooms in his initial request because he forgot that the house had other parts too.

The living room had huge windows with bright sunlight streaming in and giving it a summer house feel. There was a leather couch and armchair set with a small coffee table between them, a TV was mounted to the wall above the fireplace. A real wood fireplace at that. Nataly wondered if it was ever used or if it was even functional at all as such a placement for a TV was a strange idea.

The rest of the room was empty. No curtains on the windows either. The overall feeling was of an unfinished place, like somebody was in the process of either moving in or out, the feeling of being in between, not quite here, nor there.

'Just like my life', the thought popped up in Nataly's head, 'neither here, nor there. '

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked. “Alcoholic or non?”

"Water please", she smiled, "I am driving."

She settled into the armchair and brought her iPad out. First she needed to talk about the general ideas of the project, without getting into small details. Was he going for one look throughout the house or wanted different styles for different areas? How many people lived there? How many visited regularly and needed to have some dedicated storage? Did he entertain often? If so, what was his style - drinks and snacks? Sit down dinner parties? How many people he usually had staying overnight?

She knew that these questions were intrusive, it wasn't something you would ask anybody on the first date, but she needed the answers to be able to do her job (This is not a date! This is not a date! I am here to work.)

Frank was back with her water in a tall glass, a slice of lemon was balanced on the edge.

'Fancy! Is he trying to impress me,' Nataly wondered, 'or this is how he greets all his visitors?'

"Thank you!" she took a sip. "May I ask you a few questions first? To help with the design I need to know how you use this house - how many people are usually here, how many stay the night, do you throw parties, what type, how big? Do you work from here? If so, what type of work space do you have or would like to have? And anything else you can think of that has to do with different people using this space."

"But first of all I have to ask about the doorbell - really?! There has to be some story behind that."

Nataly knew that her dress was short, but she didn't plan to be sitting much. Now, sitting across from him with just a low table between them, she was very much aware that even with her knees tightly pressed together, he still had to have quite a view. A slight smile and the direction of his gaze told her that he didn't miss it.

'And when it will be time to get up, the view will get even better. No way I can stand up in heels from this comfy chair without giving him a full up the skirt view. Oh, well. At least the panties are nice.'

 

[Tio_Narratore]

“That’s a lot of questions, Nataly,” he responded with his eyes on her partly uncovered thighs.

As he paused, he wondered why he, who had so many women completely naked and at his disposal, would find himself ogling a pair of legs in a short dress. Well, they were very long and very shapely and . . . He returned to Nataly’s questions.

“Okay,” he said, “the door bell first. The owners before me were an elderly couple with great grandchildren. They would have the bell programmed for holidays when their grandkids came to visit. After Christmas five years ago they decided they needed to go into a seniors’ residence, so they sold the house. I bought it, and just never bothered to change the melody.”

His eyes were on her face while he talked, even looking into her eyes, but as he finished, his eyes wandered back to her thighs.

“Now, about how I use the house,” he continued. “I’m the only one who lives here, so there’s usually only one person. I’ll be honest, though, and once or twice every week or two, a woman will sleep over. In my bedroom.”

He was honest, but in the back of his mind was the nagging feeling that he shouldn’t have said it, that it might turn her off. Still, she did need to know, and not just for the design, he told himself.

“I have a party or host a dinner once a month or so, and that’s why the four guest rooms. Often my guests are from the City, and it’s too long a trip back for the end of the evening. Usually three or four people or couples.”

His eyes roamed from her face once more, stopping at her chest on their way to her legs. The dress only hinted at the shape and size of her breasts, and he wondered what they looked like. The thought of sketching them someday flew into his head for a moment. And yes, her thighs were still there. Firm and toned, ad now slightly relaxed and parted enough for a glimpse of her smooth inner thighs.

“I’m mostly retired,” he explained, “so I don’t do much regular work. I have an office here that I use for trading and financial work. Then there's the study/library. That’s my retreat for reading and thinking. I do a good bit of sketching and some painting, but I don’t have a studio; I do that wherever I feel like it. As far as guests, there’s the dining room, the livingroom, the entertainment center, the pool and the fitness room, not to mention the deck and the outdoor space.”

Frank stood, then, and invited Nataly upstairs to take a look at the bedrooms in person. He was somewhat sorry he had gotten up before her; he only had a quick peek up her dress and the whole of her thighs and the lace panties where her thighs met.

“The bedrooms are my main concern right now,” he said as he led her up the central staircase, “but I’d be happy if you also took a look downstairs to see if there’s anything you’d suggest.”

“Here’s the rooms,” he announced as they reached the landing. “I’ll wait here while you look around on your own. I’d like you to have a view unencumbered by the owner looking over your shoulder.”

 

[AnnieLit]

Nataly tried her best to ignore Frank's stare, but it was getting harder to do so by the minute. She caught herself at a thought that in some strange way it was actually comforting. Not that she wasn't used to the attention, but all of that was in the before life and at times it felt to her that when she walked out of the marriage she also walked out of her old self. And the new Nataly needed this confirmation that she was still attractive more than she realized.

The doorbell story made her wonder why nobody mentioned anything to him in FIVE years. She made a note that she needed to check the doorbell model and put together a short list of suggested sounds that can work with it.

“Now, about how I use the house,” he continued. “I’m the only one who lives here, so there’s usually only one person. I’ll be honest, though, and once or twice every week or two, a woman will sleep over. In my bedroom.”

A woman? So, not a wife, not a girlfriend. Did he even mean the same woman or there was a never ending supply of those that wanted to share his bed? Because there is only one source of them... Was he really in a habit of bringing prostitutes to his house? As far as she knew, this wasn't how things usually worked.

Nataly had a couple friends in college that worked with an escort agency and according to them it was either a hotel room or some airbnb apartment, they never been invited to client's homes or even knew their real names. It was a security measure for them and made sense to her. So if these are not escorts, then who?

She decided that it didn't really matter. The only thing she needed to know was if these women were regular enough to require some dedicated storage space. Nataly settled on making a note to ask about it later.

She felt his probing gaze and realized he was waiting for her reaction. No, she wasn't going to give him one and really there wasn't much to give. Was she outraged? No. Disappointed was a better word she never expected a man like that to be a monk.

“I have a party or host a dinner once a month or so, and that’s why the four guest rooms. Often my guests are from the City, and it’s too long a trip back for the end of the evening. Usually three or four people or couples.”

Another note went down: same friends/couples? Does he want them to have dedicated rooms? Something that he would think will suite them?

" I do a good bit of sketching and some painting, but I don’t have a studio; I do that wherever I feel like it."

Nataly looked up from her notebook. Painting? Really? She stopped herself just in time from asking if she could see some of his work. It wasn't polite, if he wanted, he would have offered himself. But she was very intrigued.

When Frank led her upstairs and left there to explore on her own Nataly started from the four guest rooms. In person they had the same vibe as in the pictures - great spaces, functional furniture, no charecter at all. All for closets were completely empty save for a set of hangers in each. Nobody was keeping their stuff in there, neither "a woman", nor his friends. She took the measurements of each room and was done with them pretty fast.

Then it was the master bedroom turn. The room was large but still dominated by the four poster bed. The pictures didn't di it justice - that thing was huge! Nataly wondered if it was a California King or something custom made and even bigger.

When she walked closer to the bed her eyes widened in surprise. Iron rings. The posts, the headboard, and all other wooden parts of the bed were covered with them. WTF was going on here? Was this some sort of red room out of the 50 shades movie? Only this one had unassuming light tan walls and was filled with light streaming through a large window.

Nataly looked at the door, but Frank wasn't there, she could actually hear him closing the fridge downstairs. The thought of being with him in this room was unsettling, so she was glad that she knew exactly where he was. The rest of the furniture looked quite normal, though on a sturdier side than usual. A huge floor mirror in a gold frame stood by one of the walls.

'Gothic. I didn't prepare this style, but this is what this room needs. Black or hunter green walls and ceiling, and a lot of brass/gold accents. I wonder if he will like the idea of wallpaper, Damascus will look here right at home.'

She opened the door to the walk in closet and peaked inside. The usual hers-and-his split held only his clothes. One side was jeans, khakis, t-shirts, a few sweaters, winter boots and sneakers. The other side was suites, dress shirts, and very expensive looking shoes. Nataly glanced at one shirt's label - Lanieri, custom made in Italy. Who was this guy?! He said he retired, but retired from what? Winning a lottery?

Sides of the closet had two sets of cabinets. Nataly opened the left one and saw a neat collection of Frank's underwear, a dozen ties hanging off a tie rack, a few belts neatly rolled in a sectioned drawer.

She turned to the other side and pulled the door. She gasped and shut it back so fast that Frank must have heard the bang from the downstairs. Nataly already had an idea of what he might have in here given all the hardwear on his bed, but she wasn't expected this. Rows of crops, canes, whips, and things she didn't know how to name hand in there.

Nataly took a breath and slowly opened the door again. Yep, they were still there, she didn't imagine it. She pulled the top drawer out - ropes. Some in bright nylon colors, some of some natural material. Jute? Hemp? Nataly wasn't shure but she couldn't stop herself from touching one. It felt hursh. She have seen Shibari photos before, the professional ones were often beautiful, she especially liked the look of the marks the ropes left on the skin. Now looking at a rope up close, touching it, she understood where all those grooves on the marks came from.

Nataly wondered how it feels to have a rope run tightly against her skin. Does it hurt? The girls in the pictures looked calm, almost serene, they didn't appear to be in any distress, so maybe it's not that bad?

The next drawer had some cuffs, shackles, and chains. That's what probably was attached to the hooks on the bed.

And the next one... Nataly took one quick look and closed it back - vibrators and anal beeds wasn't something she wanted to see, especially not the more realistic looking ones.

Nataly remembered Frank's eyes undressing her just a few minutes earlier.

'So this is where he wanted me to be. And this would be the toys for him to use. No, thank you. Except... Except maybe for the ropes.'

Nataly imagined his hands sliding all over her body tying her up, stroking along the way. She never realized how much she was interested in Shibari. If he asked, would would she tell him? It was obvious what she should tell him, that Nataly was sure about, what what she wanted was a different story.

'Good thing he is not asking!'

She took all the measurements and left the Red Room that wasn't red at the moment.

'Stop with all the 50 shades references already! You didn't even like the book or the movie' , but she didn't have any other references, so the Red Room name had to stay for now.

Frank was waiting for her at the landing, the question written all over his face.

"I need to show you some pictures and run preliminary ideas by you. Would you like to do it your study or in the living room?"

Nataly was all business and tried to push the ropes out of her mind. And she almost succeeded untill she looked at his hands again. It was impossible not to think about them tying knot after knot next to her bare skin, pulling the rope tightly, creating an outfit just for her.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

“Let’s go to the study,” Frank proposed. “It’s the only room I’ve really done anything with. It’s sort of my sanctuary.”

And so it was, with ten-foot high, bookcase-clad walls; an enormous oak desk in the center; a stone fireplace, clearly in use; and a four-foot by three-foot oak coffee table flanked by two leather armchairs and a matching sofa. Original art hung between bookcases, including a few of his own drawings and paintings.

As they reached the foot of the stairs, Frank placed his hand on Nataly’s shoulder, his fingers right on her shoulder and his thumb spread to the opposite side of her neck. A bit of pressure from his fingers steered her towards the study.

He wondered what her reaction to his touching her was: Would it frighten her? Would it feel good to her? Would it excite her? All three? No matter what, he just had to touch her, had to feel even a small part of her body.

Once inside the study, he guided her to one of the armchairs and he sat in the one opposite.

“Before we start,” he declared, “I’d like to be completely open with you about my bedroom.”

“Yes,” he began, “I do have women over once or twice every week or two. They’re escorts I hire to satisfy me sexually, to satisfy my kinks, if you will. I’m sure you’ve seen the material side of that in my bedroom. They stay for the night, sometimes two nights if necessary.”

“It began when I was first working as a trader. I found dating too demanding; I was fixated on making my fortune so I could retire to this. Escorts didn’t come with the social strings of dates, and I could arrange for whatever kind of sex I wanted. I’m sure you know there are women who like to be tied or whipped or played with; some of them turn their pleasure into a business.”

“I became friendly with the woman who ran the agency, and helped her establish a quiet little spa a bit north of here in the Catskills, a place where men - and women - could satisfy their desires in comfort and privacy. She knows me and trusts me, and so do her girls. They have no worries in coming to my secluded little estate. No worries at all, because they know I would never do anything to a woman that she didn’t want or agree to. I respect their safe words and signs and always discuss in advance what I’d like and they'd accept. And, by the way, it’s not just BDSM that I like. I enjoy all kinds of sex, from the most domestic and vanilla to the wildest, roughest, as long as it’s okay with the woman.”

“Now,” he concluded, “I’ll answer any questions you have and we can get to your ideas for my rooms.”

His eyes were back on her legs, now, and his mind briefly imagined her legs bound in smooth nylon, or even rough hemp, ropes, the twists and braids of the cords pressed into her yielding flesh, leaving transient traces of her bondage behind.

 

[AnnieLit]

"Let’s go to the study,” Frank proposed.

They went back to the first floor and at the bottom of the stairs Nataly hesitated, not knowing if she needed to go left or right. Frank's hand, placed on her shoulder, steered her in the right direction.

When she felt his touch, Nataly froze for a second, but recovered fast and hoped that he didn't notice. She was more startled than scared - her dress was sleeveless and it was the first time she felt his touch on her skin. It was ... She didn't have time to analyze what she felt, before she could sort through swarm of emotions the touch brought up, Frank's hand was gone and she was left with the hint of disappointment that the contact was so brief.

“It’s the only room I’ve really done anything with. It’s sort of my sanctuary.”

And he was right - this room, unlike the rest of the house, had a character! Books, books, and more books - that was the first thing Nataly noticed when she walked in. And they looked like real books somebody actually read, not just put there for decoration. She would have loved to take a closer look, to see what titles he had there, but she couldn't find an excuse to get closer to the shelves.

A few drawings and paintings were hanging on the walls between the bookcases. She wondered if some or maybe all were his.

Frank led her to a leather armchair and took the opposite one with a massive coffee table between them. Nataly was about to suggest that they move to the couch because for her to be able to show what she put together they would need to be looking at the same screen.

But Frank started talking right away, before she even had a chance to open her mouth.

“Before we start,” he declared, “I’d like to be completely open with you about my bedroom.”

Frank talked about the women that stayed with him for a day or two - escorts. Nataly heard that there were VIP clients with special requests and special privileges, which probably came with special pricing too, but her friends never worked with them, so she didn't know any details.

Now she did and wasn't sure how she felt about that. When dreaming of feeling Frank's hands on her, Nataly wasn't thinking of a one night stand, to her sex made sense only if there was a relationship, an emotional connection. How would she feel if a guy she was dating was seeing escorts on a regular basis? Probably not great.

'But we are NOT dating! Maybe he will stop inviting them over if we start seeing each other?' Right, that was a very big maybe. If she was looking for red flags, this definitely was one of them.

“... I’m sure you know there are women who like to be tied or whipped or played with..."

He was still talking about the escorts, but the last part of the phrase, the played with... She had so many questions and none of them was even remotely appropriate for a business meeting.

Nataly blushed a little when she imagined herself on that bed. Tied? Yes, please. Whipped? Not that she ever was, but it sounded painful and she didn't see the point. Played with? She wondered what exactly that meant, but if it involved the toys that she had seen... On the second thought, probably not those toys - using the same things that were used by pros didn't sound like a good idea. But she had a few toys herself and maybe he could use those...

" .. I enjoy all kinds of sex, from the most domestic and vanilla to the wildest, roughest, as long as it’s okay with the woman.”

'Good to know'.
Nataly nodded but didn't say anything.

“Now, I’ll answer any questions you have and we can get to your ideas for my rooms.”

Frank stopped talking, now it was her turn.

Did she have questions about what exactly happened in that room when he had visitors? You bet! Was she going to ask any of them? Of course not. She was here to work. And dreams, well, she couldn't control her dreams, could she?

"I think I got the picture, thank you." Nataly paused to bring up her images on the iPad.

"I prepared some ideas, but after seeing your bedroom I don't think any of them will work there - you need something much darker. Gothic. Not the teen goths style, but a more refined adult version. I don't have any pictures to show you right now, will email them tomorrow, but I have a general question: walls in your bedroom - do they need to be painted or wallpaper will work for you too? Because there are some gorgeous Damascus prints that I think will give you a much better atmosphere than a paint."

"As for the rest of the bedrooms - are you looking to keep all of them identical? Same style, but different colors? Different styles altogether?"

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Perhaps it was the shock of his disclosures, or it might be that Nataly is simply a poor poker player, but her reactions were easy to read and that was what Frank was looking for. As well as information relevant to the design project, of course. But it was clear: the girl’s eyes brightened with curiosity at the mention of bondage and darkened with fright at talk of whipping. And even that was a positive note; she feared the pain, he thought, not the practice.

It all became even clearer as she spoke, all business, as if BDSM was a standard feature of interior design. She was susceptible to new experiences, and might even find she liked them.

He had seated her opposite for his sexual disclosures, all the better to see her response, but now a different arrangement was in order.

“How thoughtless of me,” Frank exclaimed as Nataly tried to turn her laptop his way to see the images she had made for the other bedrooms. “Here, let’s sit on the sofa so we’re both facing the screen.”

Frank was careful not to sit too close, but he was close enough to feel the vibes from her body, and that suited him just fine.

“Don’t worry about sex in the guest rooms,” he said with a little laugh. “I host dinner parties or just ordinary get-togethers for friends and neighbors, not orgies. If there’s a couple sharing a bedroom, what they do is their business.”

“I like variety,” he declared. “Each room should be distinctive; it’s not a hotel. So I’d like to leave that very much to your sense of design. I’d just ask that you keep it a bit simple, something attractive bu that’s unlikely to offend.”

“Now, the master bedroom is the tricky one,” he said. “Goth may be nice - Victorian Gothic, not Mediaeval - but I don’t want it to be a torture chamber. I’d like it to be good for any form of sex, a place where a vanilla girl would be comfortable and where a slave or heretic would feel satisfied.”

“I know that’s a bit strange, perhaps impossible, but I was thinking with adjustable lighting and different colored window and bed drapes and linens, it could be done. But I really want something that would make a woman feel good when she’s tied up or shackled and whipped or whatever . . .”

Frank brightened a bit.

“Would you like to go back upstairs and sit on the bed to try to get a feel for what I’m asking? After all, you are a woman, and know how you feel.”

 

[AnnieLit]

“Now, the master bedroom is the tricky one,” he said. “Goth may be nice - Victorian Gothic, not Mediaeval - but I don’t want it to be a torture chamber. I’d like it to be good for any form of sex, a place where a vanilla girl would be comfortable and where a slave or heretic would feel satisfied.”

“I know that’s a bit strange, perhaps impossible, but I was thinking with adjustable lighting and different colored window and bed drapes and linens, it could be done. "

Nataly brightened up at the request - she loved to be challenged! And in this case the challenge was pretty easy to solve.

"The curtains! With windows that big if you keep them open the room will be airy even at night. Draw them and it will be much more intimidating. You don't have any neighbors out here, so no need to worry about privacy."

"Plus the light temperature", she continued excitedly. "We can put LED lightbulbs into all the light fixtures and you will be able to change both the intensity and the colour from an app on your phone. The bright and bluish settings will give you something very close to daylight. The darker and more yellow tones will look like the room is full of candles. And if you want to go more sinister, you can make some or all of the light bulbs go red."

Nataly had never seen a whole room done like this, but Lily's night light was controlled this way, so she knew it was possible.

"I really want something that would make a woman feel good when she’s tied up or shackled and whipped or whatever . . . Would you like to go back upstairs and sit on the bed to try to get a feel for what I’m asking? After all, you are a woman, and know how you feel.”

It occured to Nataly that he just suggested she design that room for herself, not for a woman to feel good when she is stretched by ropes and god knows what is done to her on that bed, but the woman - her.

The image of her naked body laying on black silk sheets all open and exposed with no way to move away from ... things ... was both exciting and terrifying. She had her doubts though that her feeling good or bad could possibly be influenced by the color of the wallpaper or the view outside of the window. In her mind the body on that bed, her body on that bed, was blindfolded.

But Frank wasn't, so the mood of the scene (she hesitated calling it that even in her own thoughts, but thought that was the term used in the book ) had to correspond to his mood and his intentions.

And yes, she needed to see the room again - she needed to make some decisions on the number and placement of the lights. As for sitting on the bed...

'The image in my head is just a fantasy, he doesn't know about it, so it should be ok. I hope is should be ok...'

"Yes, you are right, I need to see that room again, there are a few details I didn't know that I needed to check when I first was there."

"But before we go can I ask you about the drawings? Are these yours? The sketch of the woman on the seashore is so simple and so beautiful!"

Nataly stood up and walked to look closer at the sketch. She couldn't read the signature from where she was sitting, but now she could clearly see the "F.C." initials in the corner.

"Who is she? She look so calm and thoughtful. It feels like we could be close friends."

 

[Tio_Narratore]

“Her name’s Mnesarete,” Frank answered, “but she calls herself Sara. I drew a number of pictures of her. This one’s my favorite. I think I really captured her spirit in this one.”

Frank placed his hand, fingers spread wide, on the small of Nataly’s back.

“I know you have to go soon,” he said. “We should get upstairs for another look.”

He guided her out of the study and to the stairs with his hand still on her back. He removed his hand as they went up the stairs, but placed it back when he brought her into the bedroom.

“I’d really like yo to get a feel for things here,” he explained. “I like your ideas of drapes and lighting, but I want you to imagine how it would feel to a girl.”

He guided her to the foot of the bed.

“Here, just use your imagination for a few minutes.”

He took her arms and brought them behind her back.

“Hold your elbows with the opposite hands,” he instructed her, “and squeeze your legs tightly together. Imagine you’re tied up like that. And then try to imagine what decor you’d like to see in the room around you.”

He stepped back and left her in silence to think about the design that would be appropriate.

“We have time for more,” he declared as he had Nataly stand up.

“Spread your feet out as far as you can towards the bedposts,” he directed her.

When she had taken the pose, he took her by the wrists and lifted her arms, spreading them out towards the bedposts.

“Now take a minute to imagine you’re shackled her and you hear the sound of a whip.”

He left her in silence for a minute.

“One more,” he said.

He took the pillows from the head of the bed and placed them one atp the other just past halfway down the bed.

“Lay on your back with your backside on the pillows,” he told her.

He stood by the side of the bed and reached over, drawing her left hand towards the bedpost and then stretching her right towards its near bedpost. Down to the foot of the bed, and he spread her ankles towards the bedposts.

“Now imagine you’re tied up here like this,” he said as he stepped back. “What does your creative mind tell you to see?”

He left her to imagine for nearly three minutes.

“Okay,” he said, “thank you for indulging me, Nataly, but I really think it could help with your design.”

 

[AnnieLit]

Frank placed his hand on the small of Nataly’s back and guided her out of the study. Through the thin fabric she could feel the heat of his palm, the light pressure when he needed her to turn this way or that. She was a puppet in Master's hands and she liked the feeling.

When they got to the bedroom Frank guided her to the foot of the bed and brought her arms behind her back. Nataly did not protest but wondered if he was really going to tie her up.

“Hold your elbows with the opposite hands,” he instructed her, “and squeeze your legs tightly together. Imagine you’re tied up like that. And then try to imagine what decor you’d like to see in the room around you.”

Ok, so no real ties, they were just pretending. Nataly closed her eyes and tried to see the room and herself in it.

"Low light. Soft music. Something soft under my feet, a fur rug of sorts. Gold or copper details glister with reflected light. A light breeze coming from the wide open windows. It feels good on the hot skins, calms down the nerves of ..."

She abruptly stopped, opened her eyes and dropped her hands. Her cheeks were hot as Nataly realized that she said too much - she started to describe herself, not the room.

She was embarrassed to look at him, but Frank acted as if nothing happened.

“We have time for more,” he declared. “Spread your feet out as far as you can towards the bedposts,” he directed her.

When she had taken the pose, he took her by the wrists and lifted her arms, spreading them out towards the bedposts.

The bed was wide and standing in the middle Nataly couldn't reach either of the bedposts, so her hands were just up in the air pointed at the top loops which she imagined would be used to attach the ropes. Or chains. She wasn't sure what he would use for this.

"Now take a minute to imagine you’re shackled her and you hear the sound of a whip.”

She winced and involuntarily shuddered at his last words. Her imagination was in overdrive, she could almost feel the sting of the thin leather on her thighs.

'The room! I need to think of the room!'

But again, the room was the last thing that seemed to matter to her imaginary self. She could clearly see herself - high heels and nothing else, hair pulled up in a bun so that nothing is covering her neck and back. Thick leather cuffs, chains. And smiling Frank standing behind her with a whip.

Nataly made an effort to move this vision aside.

"Silk bedsheets, dark, but not black. Hunter green. Two nightstands with a lot of candles on them - this is the only light in the room. It's quiet, no music, only the wind outside the window. You are ..."

She stopped again. She successfully managed to avoid describing her, but caught herself just in time not to describe how she saw Frank - jeans, black leather vest, no shoes.

“One more,” he said.

He took the pillows from the head of the bed and placed them one on top of the other just past halfway down the bed.

“Lay on your back with your backside on the pillows,” he told her.

This gave Nataly a real pause. The first two poses were completely make-believe, but for this one she will actually be laying down. With her back arched over the pillows. In a short dress. She might not be tied up for real, but the pose itself will be pretty obscene in the broad daylight.

'What the heck! He had seen enough women in his life, so he is about to see one more. Who cares?'

She kicked off her sandals and climbed on the bed. Frank leaned over her and spread out her arms and legs, directing each at the corresponding bedpost.

“Now imagine you’re tied up here like this,” he said as he stepped back. “What does your creative mind tell you to see?”

Nataly closed her eyes, but immediately opened them back - it was too much. She didn't want to see herself from the side, not like this. And imagining doing it without any clothes on was even worse.

What would he do to her in this pose? Probably this is what he meant by "played with".

What would make this more comfortable? Nothing. More acceptable? Total darkness.

"It is dark, almost too dark to see anything. The lights are off, but the Moon is out and is shining through the window. There is no music, only the sounds of the night."

'There are roses on the bed all around me - it is an alter and I am about to be sacrificed in the name of Eros, the god of love and sex.' Nataly shook her head to get rid of this vision. She was glad that she was able to keep the last part to herself.

Without waiting for further instructions Nataly got up, this was enough for one day. She did her best to avoid looking at Frank, packed her stuff and said her goodbyes, promising to send updated designs in the next few days.

And she left as quickly as she could without seeming too rude.

Only in the car did she remember that they didn't discussed either her payment, or Frank's budget for the whole project. But she had a feeling that she didn't have to worry about either one of them.

That night she dreamed of roped, and chains, and woke up all tangled up on her blankets.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

“You’ve had some great ideas,” Frank said as Nataly started packing up. “I think the imagination exercise was useful.”

And it wasn’t only Nataly’s imagination at work here; Frank himself was imagining, and it wasn’t decor. It was Nataly. When he saw her off at her car, he knew she wasn’t rushing just because it was getting a bit late; it was because of his little exercises. Not that she didn’t like the images she had, he felt from her reaction; it was because there was something about them she liked, something about her actually experiencing it. And that gave him something to think about.

Into the study, then, his sanctuary, along with a triple of Redbreast. A sip or two, and he leaned back, remembering her in his bedroom. Tied up, sitting on the edge of the bed. Naked in his mind, though he wasn’t sure what she looked like between legs and shoulders. He wondered if she saw herself as he saw her now.

“A mirror!” he shouted suddenly. “The room needs a mirror. The girl should see the beauty of the knots and ropes on her flesh.”

‘The same for the shackles and whips,’ he thought. ‘I wonder if that would make it all more intense. I’ll have to get one anyway and ask the next girl I call in.’

And then he came to his third pose. This time the decor was there in his reverie. Dark bedding, no light save for the full moon, and the moon shown through the window, illuminating her freshly shaved vee. Her legs were stretched wide, and her pussy was exposed and vulnerable, defenseless against whatever he might do. But what he did in his mind might not have called for any defense: he knelt on the foot of the bed and ran his hand up the inside of her thighs to her labia. His fingers gently parted those lips, baring the damp pink furrow behind. A kiss, then, light and tentative, again, more firmly, and again, lingering with lips and tongue playing a melody on her pearl.

He shook himself out of his little daydream and grabbed a notebook and pen from his desk to write down the things he had thought of. As he wrote, he realized that he hadn’t given Nataly an installment on her services.

He quickly set up an electronic funds transfer so she wouldn’t have to wait for a check to clear. ‘Five-thousand should be okay,’ he thought as he prepared the transfer. Next a text to explain and give her the password. Then an afterthought, another text: “You were interested in Sara, the girl in my drawing. She still works at the spa; I can have her come by if you’d like to meet her sometime.”

He settled back in the armchair with another sip of his whiskey. Then another afterthought, a thought that had been floating around in his mind since he first saw her. To the phone again, he checked the time. It was late. Too late to get her on the phone. Yes, he saw the transfer hadn’t been processed. It was just after ten on Sunday morning when he called.

“Hello Nataly,” he said. “This is going to be quick and awkward. I haven’t asked a girl out on a date for over twenty years, so please excuse my lack of finesse. Will you have dinner with me this evening?”

 

[AnnieLit]

When Nataly got home and let the neighbor go, she got a text from Frank with an explanation how to access a 5K electronic transfer. She shook her head - the guy might be loaded and used to just throwing money around, but this wasn't how she did business. They needed a contract with a set payment structure, invoices, and all the papertrail that could both protect her if something goes wrong and be used later on for taxes. As it was, she didn't even know if the money he were meant to be her payment (in which case it was way too much), or a deposit for the items she will need to order for him.

So she left the transfer alone and was going to attach a contract to her next email, the one with the master bedroom details.

Master bedroom details ... Nataly thought back about the positions Frank put her in. She had all the measurements, so she knew the exact size of the room, but in her mind when she thought about standing there, naked and stretched out between the bed post, the room became a great hall in a medieval castle - cold and harsh place of stone and iron. She felt small and vulnerable, but for some reason not scared.

'I don't know anything about this guy, he might be hiding out here because he played too harsh with somebody and really hurt them. Why do I feel so secure around him?'

She needed a moment to compose herself but instead she laid on her bed and stretched her arms and legs as Frank showed her. No, he wanted it differently - she grabbed a pillow and put it under her hips.

Nataly's room was small with a low dresser standing next to her bed. She turned her head and looked in the mirror. It wasn't big enough to show her whole body, she could see only the middle part, breasts to knees, but that was enough to confirm how obscene the pose was. How giving. And also how ... calm. Nataly couldn't explain why. Logic told her that she should be alarmed, that what Frank obviously wanted from her was dangerous, but instead all she felt was longing mixed with curiosity - longing to have all decision making to be taken away and curious as to what exactly he would do to her.

Vague fragments of images of his hands, lips, tongue, teeth probing and exploring all over her body were too much to handle, Nataly grabbed a vibe from her nightstand and put it to use. She still maintained the same pose as much as she could, her hips raised, legs wide apart.

She closed her eyes and imagined a chair standing by the foot of the bad. Frank coming into the room, looking her all over, but not saying a word. He is in an evening attire, did he just came back from an opera? He takes a seat and watches her. "Play. I want to see you cum." This imaginary command made her shudder.

Where did this come from?? Nataly have never masturbated in front of anybody, this was always a very private affair for her. And yet knowing how on display she was made her drip.

When she came, she made an extra effort to keep her legs open, not to shut them tight as she usually did. Will he like the sight of her like this? Will she really let him see it in the first place?

"Mommy, let's make pizza!" Lily called from downstairs.

"Yes baby, give me a second."

And just like that the mommy's alone time was over.

They spent the evening cooking together and when Lily was down for the night Nataly went to bed as well, it was a long day and she didn't have any energy left to think. But her bain wouldn't shut off even in her sleep, she dreamed of ropes, and chains, and crops.

In the middle of the night she woke up with a jerk - in her dream she was in the same pose on her back as before, a face mask was on, so she couldn't see it coming, but there was a sharp pain in her most tender place. A riding crop landed there. And she came.
No vibe, no fingers, nothing. Just a dream to help her along.

In the morning she took Lily to a little lake they had nearby. Little girl was playing by the water and Nataly was watching her absentmindedly when her phone rang. It was Frank.

“Hello Nataly. This is going to be quick and awkward. I haven’t asked a girl out on a date for over twenty years, so please excuse my lack of finesse. Will you have dinner with me this evening?”

"Hi... Um ... I am sorry, I can't really answer you at the moment, I need to check with the sitter first. What time did you have in mind? And where? Oh, and thank you for asking me out in the first place. As you can guess", she laughed, "I haven't been o
n a date in a while as well."

 

[Tio_Narratore]

“About eight for dinner,” he said eagerly. “I could pick you up at seven. But really, any time that works for you is good for me. There’s a number of good restaurants near here, even one with a Michelin star. I thought that would be good if you like classic French. We can decide when you call back. I’ll wait to hear from you.”

Frank took a deep breath when they hung up. ‘That was strange,’ he thought, ‘it really felt funny to ask for a date. But it did feel good,’ he concluded.

It was certainly a far cry from his usual arrangements with women. Those encounters were at home, and with rather specific ends in mind, agreed to in advance. It’s only now, in asking Nataly out, he realized that when he went out to eat, it was always by himself, a practice that had become a habit during his days on the Street. The only times he had company for dinner was when he hosted or attended a dinner party with his neighbors and acquaintances. He realized also that he may have been missing something that would have been pleasurable in his early retirement.

He put that thought aside for the moment and returned to the present. He decided to get back to making notes of the ideas he had for the bedroom. Back up to the master bedroom with his notebook and his drawing pad as well. He sat on the dressing chair and began writing. Mirror . . . Dressing Bench . . . Canopy Lighting . . . and then he started going a bit wild, adding projectors to change the look of the walls, LED strip lighting in the canopy along with an overhead mirror . . . He had to stop himself, and he did. With some difficulty.

It took the drawing pad and his memory to take him away from ideas for an erotic bedroom, though it didn’t take his thoughts away from the erotic. He sat gazing at the foot of the bed, his mind conjuring up th image of her legs spread towards the bedposts

The bed and posts were there. And he lightly outlined them in pencil. Next her right foot, and it was her right foot; he had a near-photographic memory. Up her leg, then, the shape of her ankle and calf, her knee. Definitely her knee. And then her thigh, the top barely covered by the hem of her dress.

He paused and took a deep breath. Drawing was sensual to him, something as much felt as done, and now, as he was ready to give shade and detail to the form of her leg on the bed, he could feel her in his mind. And then her drew, shading Nataly’s foot and the bed’s foot, giving them substance and weight. He paused again, Rope around her ankle, rope stretching her leg to the bed post. Imagination. Shading to pull the rope into her flesh. Shading to bring out the tension in her stretched leg. Lines for texture of sheets, shading for the press of leg into sheet. Knee, the details of bone and flesh, of twist with the bonds. Thigh, soft and sensitive. Another pause and reflection.

Drawing was erotic in itself. Sensual. Not like a camera. A camera was a recording machine, and its product could be beautiful, sexual, erotic. But a drawing. A drawing was created by a hand. A feeling hand and a seeing eye bringing form from the blankness of the paper.

Frank finished with only that view: her right leg to the thigh and hemline, ankle tied to the bed post. Her left leg and the left side of the bed and pillows he left as only a faint outline. He looked at the drawing and closed his eyes to lose himself in a reverie, a reverie of Nataly, tied to the bed, and the thousand and one things he could do for his pleasure, for her pleasure.

 

[AnnieLit]

Nataly put the phone down and stared at the black screen. A date. He asked her out on an actual date. She needed to decide if she wanted to go and she needed to do it fast, but her mind went blank. She knew she wanted to spend time in his company, but she also knew that it will lead to sex. Which she wanted, or more like needed at that point, she was alone for way too long, but did she want *that* kind of sex? It was one thing to read about it, so have some vague fantasies, but actually doing it was a whole different story.

And then there was Lily. What if he leaves marks on her body and Lily sees them? How would she explain them to a three your old?

'I can probably ask him not to leave any marks on the areas visible when I am wearing shorts and a T-shirt, she thought. 'Will this work? And how long do these marks stay?'

A quick google search showed that marks from topes can stay on for a few days, but leather cuffs left marks only for a couple hours, if any at all.

'OK, I can talk to him about it, right?'

And before she had a chance to change her mind, Nataly called the sitter:

"Mrs. Stevenson? How are you today? I wanted to thank you again for yesterday - Lily told me all about the tea party you had for her dolls. She was so excited about all the details! I know it is too soon, but is there any chance you are free tonight? You are?! That's great! No, it's not work... I was asked out on a date and I think I want to go. 6:30 then? Thank you so-so much! You are a life saver!"

Done.

Next she needed to tell Frank.

'Do I call or text him? I think he said 'when you call back', so I should call.'

The phone rang just once, was he waiting with a phone in hand? Or maybe he was doing something else and just saw the call popped up on the screen.

"Yes?"

" Hi. It's all good, I got the sitter. And French sounds wonderful. I will text you the address. And yes, 7 is good. "

Nataly realized that she didn't stop to breathe during her whole speech only when she was done. She just wanted to say it all out loud as fast as she could so that there was no turning back.

That was it. She was going on a date. With a ridiculously rich guy, that liked to tie up prostitutes and play tic-tac-toe on their backs with a whip. But somehow she felt calm. She wasn't scared. Excited - yes. Curious - very much so. But there was no fear.

'Why do I trust him so much? I know nothing about him.'

But something in Frank, in the way he talked to her, made her feel very secure.

After lunch Nataly started to get ready. First of all she set up the guest bedroom for Mrs. Stevenson. She didn't know when she will get back, so it was easier for the older woman just to stay the night.

Then she took a long relaxing bath.
Shaved.
Did her hair.

Picked out a dress - a sleeveless Armani gown with glass trim and back cut-outs. It was a present from her husband for their first anniversary. But so what? She still loved the dress even though she didn't like the gift giver much.


Nataly thought putting on stockings because of how she saw herself at Frank's place, but they didn't really work with this dress, so she decided to skip them for now. Black strappy heels would be enough.

By 6:30 she was ready, only make-up needed to be done. Nataly went downstairs to open the door for Mrs Stevenson and showed her what was for them for dinner.

"Nataly! You look stunning!"

"Right, you have never seen me all dressed up,"
Nataly laughed. "Not quite jeans and T-shirts"

"You look like a model!"

"Well, I am one. Or at least I was..." she trailed off, unsure how to end the sentence.

"Enjoy your evening! And don't worry about a thing, I will stay as long as you need me to."

"Oh, about that. I made a bed for you in the spare bedroom, right next to Lily's room. "

"Oh, my! Thank you. I am not much for staying up late these days. "

Ms. Stevenson went to greet the little girl and to settle in for the evening, while Nataly started on her makeup. She didn't need much, she was going for a "barely there" look and was done in about 20 minutes.

Her phone rang - it was Frank, he was here.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Frank leapt when the telephone rang; Nataly’s was the only call he expected, and he was anxious to hear from her.

“That’s great!” he said, delighted that she accepted. “I’ll be there at seven.”

He sat a minute, his heart racing, to catch his breath,

“Shit!” he exclaimed, “I’m like some goddamn teenager who just got a date with the prom queen.”

He laughed, saying to himself, “it feels really weird, but I rather like it.”

His thought turned to his bedroom again, and Nataly on his bed. The thought excited him, excited him more than anticipating the arrival of an escort, and he liked that feeling as well.

‘Don’t jump the gun,’ he told himself. “You don’t even know if she’ll come home with you. She’s got a kid to look after, too.’

He calmed down a bit, but was still eager for the date. Shower and shave. Cologne. Suit, dark grey. Light blue dress shirt, no tie. Black Oxfords, freshly polished.

He was at her place at seven. His eyes opened wide as she opened the door and invited him in. And his eyes almost bugged out of his head when she turned around to lead him in.

That dress! It was fantastic from the front, but the back! Those slits! Like a single-tail whip tearing across a stretch sheath dress! Forehand across the shoulders! Backhand across the bottom of the shoulder blades! Forehand across the waist! Backhand across the small of the back! Frank’s heart - and cock - leapt at the sight of her.

“You make that dress look beautiful, Nataly,” he said, and he meant it. She fitted the dress better than anyone else could have, he thought. She was the woman who was meant to wear it.

Off to the restaurant, then, in his Maserati.

“I hope the payment was enough to get you started,” he said as they drove, and then quickly added. “I’m sorry. We’re on a date. No business now. We can discuss it another day.”

“I see you have company tonight, Mr. Cavanaugh,” the Maître d' said as he looked at the reservations and then at Nataly. “We have an excellent table for you.”

And it was, secluded, almost private, but with a view of the forest behind the restaurant. Aperitifs first, and a bit of conversation.

“We should get to know each other a bit more,” Frank said, “and now would be a good time to start. I will say, though, that the food here is excellent, and we should savor it. There’ll be time between courses for conversation.”

He took a sip of his drink.

“I’ll start off with something I’ve noticed about you, and then you tell me something about me. Then I’ll tell you more about myself.”

Another sip, and he looked into her eyes and smiled.

“You’ve been a model,” he said. “I can see it in your walk, one foot right in front of the other, a confident and sensual strut. And when you walk it seems so natural, so fluid. And I am going to ask you to sit for me someday.”

To his drink again, and “now it’s your turn. What have you noticed about me?”

 

[AnnieLit]

Frank was right on time. Maserati. OK, the guy is loaded, good for him. But that car was way out of place in her neighborhood. It wasn't poor, but not rich either - older houses that for the most part have seen much better days.

“I hope the payment was enough to get you started,” he said as they drove, and then quickly added. “I’m sorry. We’re on a date. No business now. We can discuss it another day.”

Payment? What was he talking about? Oh, right, that transfer that she never actually accepted. Yes, talk later was the right idea because that was something that definitely needed to be talked about. Later, that is.

At the restaurant the maître d' greeted Frank by name but sounded surprised to see him with a company. So he probably wasn't bringing doesn't his escort dates there.

“We should get to know each other a bit more,” Frank said, “and now would be a good time to start. I’ll start off with something I’ve noticed about you, and then you tell me something about me. Then I’ll tell you more about myself.”

“You’ve been a model, I can see it in your walk, one foot right in front of the other, a confident and sensual strut. And when you walk it seems so natural, so fluid. And I am going to ask you to sit for me someday.”

To his drink again, and “now it’s your turn. What have you noticed about me?”

Nataly laughed.

"You are almost right, but not quite. Yes, I was a model, but not the runway type. I did take a few catwalking lessons when I was in college, but never really had to use them for anything. I modeled for ads, so it was photography for the most part with a little bit of video every now and then. Clothes, jewerly, some cosmetics. And modeled for photographers when they had ideas they wanted to try out before pitching them to their cleints. Or when they just needed a body for some art projects. There were a few images of me, or at least of parts of me, that were sold in galleries. "

She paused.

"Yes, I would love to sit for you. I really liked your sketches in the library. They are... They give the sense that I am looking at my closest friend, not a complete stranger..."

She took a sip from her glass to break the sentence because she wasn't sure where she was going with that.

"And that probably is the answer to your question. I have noticed that you don't draw nature, or cities, you draw people. And you get to know them really well to be able to show who they are in just a few strokes. "