“Gee, thanks.” I tried to put it out of my head, but Viktor was like an itch I couldn’t scratch away. I saw him everywhere, gazing down from his framed photo on the wall as employee of the month, standing in line in the cafeteria or chatting on the phone, his beautiful voice a melody to my ears. I didn’t know why I wanted someone like him. He was nothing like the other men I’d been with, stern tops and domineering businessmen. Even the female security guard on the front desk would make me drool. But Viktor was different. He was soft spoken, considerate, and smart as all hell. Maybe it was his vanilla nature that made him so exotic to me.
I saw Viktor outside work one day after lunch. A few teenage boys were kicking a ball to and fro in the parking area. Viktor did a fancy move, intercepting the ball as he walked by. He balanced it on his head, and then balanced the ball on his chest. He twisted around, and then kicked the ball to the boys, who smiled and waved at him. Damn, he was good with children, too. Viktor was perfect.
Peggy walked by, watching me eye up my Russian. “No, Katie. Viktor is vanilla. He will not want to spank you. He won’t know the first thing about restraint.”
“Get lost. Stop bugging me.”
“He’s coming this way,” she said, and then scampered off. “I’ll be in touch,” she yelled over her shoulder.
I swallowed as he walked toward me. I spun on my heels and
practically ran inside the building. I jabbed the elevator button, willing it to arrive quickly. But the elevator was not quick enough. I squeezed inside, and then I pressed the button for my floor. I looked up when I heard his voice from the foyer.
“Hold on.” The door swished shut just as he stepped inside. I couldn’t be in the same elevator as my fantasy guy; it was inhuman.
“Hello, Katie. Is that a new dress?” He sounded nervous, as if he was desperate to make conversation. Why would he be nervous with me?
I shook my head, desperately trying not to speak. I was sure my voice would come out with a stammer if I did. My mobile phone chirped to life. Peggy was on the other end.
“Viktor is vanilla,” my friend hissed. “He will sneer at your crystal butt plug. He will never use a cane on your arse.” I pressed the phone to my chest, silencing her chatter.
Viktor leant across me to press the button for his floor. “I was made employee of the month again,” he said, looking almost embarrassed.
“I heard. That’s three times in a row, isn’t it?”
Viktor nodded. “The director gave me a special gift: tickets to see the
39 Steps
in Piccadilly Circus. I have two tickets.”
I looked at him blankly.
“Would you like to come with me?”
“Vanilla!” I could still hear Peggy’s voice. “He will laugh at your floggers. He will pour scorn over your spreader bars. Stay away from him.”
I clicked my mobile shut, and then I looked at Viktor, smiling. “Sure, that sounds like a lovely idea.”
Viktor grinned and exited the elevator. As soon as the door closed, I pressed Peggy’s number. “Listen you crazy bitch, quit calling me. I’m not listening to you. I’m going to shag that pretty
Russian if it’s the last thing I do!” I clicked the phone shut. The doors opened suddenly. Viktor was still standing outside. Had he heard me? I inwardly cringed. He must have thought I was absolutely mad.
There were positives of being out at work as a bisexual woman. I didn’t have to dress up for the office. Most people seemed to think bisexual meant that I ought to dress like a whore. So, as a result, my black lace tops were as welcome as my microminis and my lip piercing. Straight people sure do think weird.
I got dressed for my date. I wore dainty earrings shaped like tiny coiled whips; they were too small to discern unless you got really close. I found a black dress that was short, but not scandalously so. I actually looked quite subdued.
The
39 Steps
was a hoot, of course. I especially liked the part of the play when the hero and heroine were handcuffed together, fleeing from the law through the Scottish Highlands. I wondered what it would be like to kneel in front of Viktor, hands shackled, eyes shut. My mobile vibrated against my lap; I knew I should have left it at home. I sighed when I saw that it was a text from my annoying friend.
Vanilla is vanilla
, it read.
He will never blindfold you.
I started to feel a little down. Viktor and I went for a meal in Covent Garden when the play ended. I picked at my salad, but had no appetite.
“Are you all right, Katie?” Viktor asked.
“I’m fine.”
“You look like something is on your mind.” He squeezed my hand; it was heavy, solid. I shivered as I imagined that hand on my rear, spanking me hard and fast. It was never going to happen.
“I think I’d best go.”
“Why?”
“I don’t think this will work,” I said pointing between the two of us.
“Is it because I’m Catholic?” Viktor asked, looking distressed. I shook my head. “Then it must be because I am Russian.”
“You’re vanilla, Viktor.”
Viktor looked at me blankly. “I am white, of course.”
I almost smiled at that. “Look, I enjoy being tied up. I like being ordered to suck cock.” A waiter crashed into our table as I said that. He blushed furiously, and then backed away. “I mean, surely you have to know about me.”
“I thought it was an office rumor, that people were being cruel.”
“I don’t think you’ll like me if you get to know me. I’d rather be just friends, Viktor.” It was a barefaced lie, but he was too gorgeous a person to lose completely.
“Let me make up my own mind about that, Katie.” He held out his hand. “I am sure we can come to an arrangement that will be good for both of us.” We walked outside and hailed a cab to his place near Finsbury Park.
“So if I am vanilla, does that make you strawberry?” he asked as we entered his building.
“Apparently I’m raspberry ripple with extra sprinkles and a chocolate flake.”
“I still do not understand. Is vanilla an insult?”
I turned to Viktor on the threshold of his apartment. “I didn’t mean it as one, but now that I think about it, vanilla could be taken that way.”
Viktor kissed me lightly on the lips, the barest brush of his mouth on mine. “Vanilla is also a type of orchid.”
“Really?” I hadn’t heard that one before.
“It is a highly-prized flower that must be treated just so, or else the precious stamen will be lost.” Viktor ran a finger over
my breast. My nipples ached for him to squeeze them. “The sensuous fragrance is a well-known aphrodisiac, too.”
My mouth hung open. I gulped as a thrill of desire shot from my tongue down to my clit. Viktor grinned at me, and then he led me inside, but instead of heading to his bedroom, he ushered me to the bathroom.
“I have never made love in this room before. It could be a not-so-vanilla experience for me, yes?”
“Sex in the shower? Sounds good.” I stripped out of my clothes quickly, turned on the water, and got in. Viktor watched with eager eyes. I wondered what he’d make of the tattoos that ran down my back. “Aren’t you going to join me?” I asked, enjoying the feel of hot water over my skin.
“You are rather nice to watch, Katie.” Viktor stood with his hands covering his crotch. Poor soul, but he was a shy one. I actually started to feel quite turned on being naked in the sight of a fully clothed man. I squished my breasts together, stroked over my bottom and bent over to drape my fingers over my toes. I smiled when I heard Viktor’s intake of breath.
“Let me dry you off.” He held out a fluffy towel.
“Aren’t you coming in?”
“I want you in my arms,” he whispered. I sighed, but switched off the shower and stepped out of the tub. Viktor instantly surrounded me with the towel. He held me tight in a very strong embrace. I struggled a little, just to see what would happen, but he held me fast. Things were getting better and better. He kissed me, and this time his kiss was all consuming. I gasped, wriggling about in the towel. If this was what vanilla folks did, then I was over to their side like a flash.
“You are a very strange woman,” Viktor murmured. “It arouses you to not be able to move?”
“That’s right.”
He pressed me to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Then do not move now.” He swept my legs open. The towel fell down around me. Viktor ignored it; he went down on his knees in front of me, and then he bent his head to my cunt. I willed him to kiss me there, but Viktor only breathed over my sensitive flesh.
“Please,” I begged shamelessly. “Oh, please, Viktor.” He grinned up at me. And then in an act of extreme sadism, he touched my clit with the barest tip of his tongue. I thrashed about like a crazy person, desperately pushing my whole crotch up to his face.
“I told you not to move,” he whispered, and looked up at me. I took a breath, stilled. Viktor licked me again, tiny movements that were incredibly intense.
“This is torture,” I hissed. “You’re killing me!”
Viktor chuckled against my cunt. “Is this not exactly what you desire?”
I froze as I actually saw the lightbulb flash above my head. Viktor was right.
“You clever bastard!” I grunted.
“Now, now, it is not vanilla to swear during sex.” He pushed a finger into my cunt, making slow deep movements. I wailed like a harpy. My clit throbbed. Viktor sucked on it, harder this time. I clutched at the back of his head and humped his face until I came noisily. The next time I saw Peggy I was going to give her a blow-by-blow account of how spicy this vanilla guy really was.
“Quite enthusiastic, aren’t you?” Viktor wiped his face with the towel before he stood. I wrapped it around my hips and followed him out of the bathroom to his living room.
Viktor served me wine and strawberries. “No raspberries, I’m afraid,” he said with a grin. “Although I am quite intrigued by the sprinkles part.”
“Let me enlighten you,” I said, and then I shimmied out of the towel to stand naked before him. “Will you take off your clothes?” Viktor did as I requested, though I’m such a sub that I hated to give him any instruction at all. Viktor sat demurely on his sofa, still covering up his hard erection. Finally he gave up and removed his hands. His cock was pink and delicious looking. I rummaged in my handbag for a moment, tossed him an extra-strong condom and a sachet of lube. Viktor looked at me quizzically for a moment before he rolled it on.
“Put the lube over the condom. I need you nice and wet for me.” As Viktor worked, I stood with my back to him. I planted one foot on either side of his feet. I reached back, held on to his biceps, and then I lowered myself down to sit. I could feel Viktor try to direct his cock into my cunt, but I angled myself so his cock prodded my asshole.
“Are you sure?” he whispered.
“You want to know about the sprinkles?”
“Yes.”
“Then let me show you how sweet it can be.”
Viktor grunted as I slowly lowered myself down. Inch after inch of his length pressed inside me. I reveled in the way I stretched around him, savored the deep penetration that I loved. I didn’t realize my eyes were shut until they fluttered open.
Viktor was rigid behind me. “Sprinkles,” he whispered. “Candy-colored sprinkles.” He moved carefully, slowly, and then he said something in Russian that I didn’t understand. I was all the way on him, impaled on my vanilla lover. I moved forward a little and then back. Viktor hissed. I raised myself up and then came down with a quick hard thrust. Viktor screamed. In fact, the man screamed like a girl. He held me by the hips, moving me up and down roughly. Every movement gave the same response. He reached around to grab a cushion, and then
he shoved the corner of it into his mouth. I laughed as he gagged himself. I moved in a wild fashion, bouncing up and down on his cock, my arms flailing, my hips bucking. Viktor threw down the cushion and then he pulled me to him fully, holding me so tight that I could barely breathe. It was heavenly. His movements stilled, and then he sagged against me.
“I suppose this means I am raspberry flavored now?” Viktor asked in a weak voice.
“Don’t sweat it, love,” I soothed, patting his leg. “I think you’ve made me appreciate vanilla, too.”
“We are an ice-cream sundae,” he said, starting to chuckle against my back.
“A knickerbocker glory!”
“With plenty of sprinkles.” He kissed my back.
“Topped off with hot fudge sauce,” I replied with a laugh.
Viktor froze. “Maybe we can save the sauce for next time?”
I grinned. “To tell you the truth, I’m rather looking forward to you showing me how good vanilla can be.” I eased myself up with a wince, and then collapsed in his arms.
“I will teach you about my style, and you will teach me about yours.” He kissed my hot skin. “Do we have a deal?”
We shook hands. “You got it.” I snuggled closer to his furry chest. “Next time I’ll bring my ropes. We’ll have a blast.”
“You are joking with me, yes?” Viktor asked hesitantly.
“No.”
My lover said nothing, but I could feel his cock stir. This would be the start of a beautiful friendship.
CHERRY BLOSSOM
Kayar Silkenvoice
early or late
to fall is a joy!
cherry blossoms
—Kinko-jo, eighteenth century
I
bumped into her in my
ryokan
in Kyoto. I smelled her exotic scent just milliseconds before my sleep-fogged brain registered the ledge I was supposed to step over in order to leave my suite—too late, of course. I tripped and fell to my knees like a penitent worshipper, one hand clutching the belt of her kimono, the other pressing down onto her foot. She staggered slightly, from surprise or the impact. I couldn’t tell which, but I feared the latter.
“Gomen nasai. Daijoubu desu ka?”
I stammered.
I’m sorry. Are you all right?