It was almost two weeks later when a message from Lori reminded Sofia that Lucas would be home soon. “Not that I needed a reminder,” thought Sofia wryly. She had thought about him fairly often, but each time pushed him out of her head as quickly as possible. Now Lori’s message just made her sigh.
“What’s happening with your hot neighbor anyhow? Isn’t he about due back?” the text had read. Sofia responded
“Absolutely nothing is happening and he’s not that hot. You know, I texted him when we got home, and got a one line response hours later thanking me for letting him know. And I texted back something about having a good trip, and since then absolutely nothing. So that’s fine. I’m over it – I mean “it” wasn’t anything anyhow!”
“Okaaaay, 😒” Lori replied. Then she went on to talk about the latest development with Harold. They had started an intense on-line relationship, and she was loving it.
That was on Thursday. On Friday, Sofia checked the mail. As she pulled some junk mail out she heard a funny sound and realized that there was a smaller piece of mail left in the box. She reached deeper to pull it out, expecting another piece of junk.
It was a postcard. A beautiful, lush flower garden, a pagoda, and a pond with BALI in fancy script over the picture. Handwritten on the back::
Hi! Greetings from Bali! I’m here for a silent retreat, so I can’t stay in touch. Maybe we can have coffee when I get back?
Sofia struggled to decipher the postmark. It looked like maybe he’d sent it the Monday after she’d met him, but she couldn’t be sure. And maybe it had been in the box for a while.
In any case, hmmmmm. A silent retreat? That sounded interesting. So did coffee. Very interesting.
Saturday, she caught herself watching for his car.
Sunday, she drove to the beach early and walked for a long time. She met her friend, Jenn, for lunch and took a nap in the afternoon. She tried not to watch for his car. “You are not a 14 year old,” she reminded herself. “He’ll get here whenever he gets here. And he probably has lots of things to do when he does get home. Laundry and such.”
Monday morning, the car was there. Sofia smiled as she hopped in her car, headed for the co-working office space she used. One thing led to another and she ended up in a dinner meeting that lasted til eight. When she pulled in at home again, she realized she had not been thinking about Lucas, but as soon as she saw the car, she was flooded with memories – and curiosity about the future. If there even was a future for them, she thought wryly.
But – the feeling of rope on her skin, his hands brushing against her, his eyes…
As she settled in for the evening, she wondered if she should text him. After all, he had sent her the postcard, even if she got it late. And they were neighbors. And it would be a friendly thing to do.
Three times, she started “Hi, Welcome Back!” That didn’t seems like enough, so she tried again, “Hope you had a good trip. Glad you’re home”. That was too much. “Hey, welcome back!” No, that was stupid. Annoyed with herself, she put the phone away and unrolled her yoga mat.
And really, if he wanted to talk to her, he would have messaged her. Wouldn’t he?
As she moved from Downward-Facing Dog to Plank Pose, she imagined he was standing behind her. “Yes,” he would say, his voice firm but kind, “that’s it right there. Now, try Four Limbed Staff. That’s it. Stay right there.”
And as her arms begin to shake in real life, she imagined him saying, “Ok, good girl. Go ahead and come down to the floor. There you go. Good girl.”
The fantasy took a sudden turn as he said, “Now, it’s time for your spanking. You’ve been a good girl, so it’s not a punishment spanking, but I want to make sure you remember who you are. And whose you are.”
He went on, “Clothes off. Quickly.”
Sofia’s body continued moving through the familiar yoga poses, but her heart rate speeded up and her breath shortened. In her fantasy, he had her naked, kneeling in front of him. “Tell me who you are,” he said.
Head down, abashed, she said, “I’m a submissive girl, Sir.”
“Look at me,” he said “Whose submissive girl are you? Who do you belong to”
Obediently, she looked up, looked into his deep green eyes. “I’m your submissive girl, Sir,” she said, “I belong to you.”
He nodded. “Yes. I want you to bend over the arm of the chair. Ass up high. Legs open. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, and in the fantasy, her voice was shaky.
Her body moved into corpse pose on the yoga mat. Her mind raced on. He caressed her ass and she whimpered. He penetrated her, deep, in both places at once, and she cried out, pleasure pain mingling at some deep level that was intensely arousing.
“You’re so easy,” he laughed, “so easy to excite. I’m going to use my belt tonight, I know you like that. How many should I give you? How many strokes?”
She didn’t answer right away, she couldn’t, her mind was in over-drive, her mouth dry. In the fantasy, he continued, “Too slow, that’s 10 extra. Now, how many?” He was teasing her, she knew he was teasing, but she couldn’t think.
“Ten?” she said. He laughed again, “That’s not nearly enough, now you’ve got an extra 10 on top of the right answer. Try again, baby. You can do it. How many should you get?”
And quite suddenly, she knew the right answer, she didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before. “However many you want, Sir!! However many you want!”
And she knew he was pleased and smiling as he said, “Good girl. We’ll do them in sets of 10. You can keep track of the sets and thank me at the end of each one. Here we go.”
And just as the first fantasy lick landed across her ass, stinging and feeling soooo good at the same time —
— her phone dinged – an in-coming text message She opened her eyes, looking around, re-orieinting herself. On her yoga mat. Alone. Ok. she realized one hand was between her legs, had been rubbing… and she patted her pussy. “I will take care of you later,” she thought, “let me see who’s texting me here in the middle of the night.”
Shaking her head, she saw that it wasn’t even 9:30 yet. And the text was from him. From Lucas. She mentally shook herself, reminding herself “that whole fantasy did not even happen, it was just in your own head. Silly girl.”
The message read, “I know it’s late, sorry, but I didn’t want to miss you in the morning. Come have coffee with me in the morning? Any time that works for you. We can walk up to Park Place if you like their coffee and pastries.”
Sofia smiled. Yes. Oh, yes.