Not My Type (7 page)

"Well you don't have to worry about me
yelling at you anymore! I'm walking home!"

"You're not walking in the dark. Don't
be ridiculous."

"So now you're saying I'm ridiculous?
Great! Thanks a lot, Joe Malone!"

She stormed off, leaving Joe to stand
there open mouthed and not quite sure what went wrong. He replayed
the scene in his mind, barely registering the slamming of the back
door as she took off, leaving Annette and Jessica to lock up. Home
was only a few blocks, hell, most things in Elk Crossing were only
a few blocks since the town was so small, but he couldn't have her
walking alone in the dark. He sped out the door after her, scanning
the parking lot but she was already gone.

By the time he finished cruising the
streets looking for her, he was good and mad. He finally went home,
where he found her curled up on the couch, sobbing. His anger
evaporated in the face of her anguish. Here was one of those road
blocks he had seen coming when they started. He had hoped these
episodes could be avoided, had hoped they would skate through the
ordeal, but it wasn't going to be that easy. He knew many people
thought he was babying Elsa, Dr. Edwards included, but he felt the
only way to help her succeed was to be supportive. He sighed and
took off his jacket, sitting down on the couch next to her. For
once, though, he was unsure whether he should gather her in his
arms and help her wind down or let her tears run their course.
Finally, he decided upon a course of action that would attain both
goals.

He held out his hand, waiting for her
to take it. She did, finally, with seeming reluctance; he pulled
her to her feet and switched his grip from her hand to her elbow
and began directing her down the hallway. She resisted at first but
he grabbed her other arm and held them behind her while marching
her to the bedroom. She calmed down when she realized where they
were going, her sniffles slowing down as her crying stopped. When
they reached the bedroom, he commanded, "On your knees."

She obeyed wordlessly while he went to
the closet for some tools. He came back to where she kneeled and
secured the blindfold around her eyes, ensuring she could see
nothing through its thick layers of black cloth.

Joe longed to one day have a place
where he could have all the apparatus needed to properly play with
her, but until then he had to make do with their bedroom. He tied
her hands to the top corners of the bed using the restraints
already installed there and then used a length of rope to secure
her feet to her hands. This ensured her lovely woman parts and nice
round ass were properly displayed for his enjoyment. He took the
cat o'nine tails from the peg in the closet and warmed her inner
thighs for a few minutes, barely flicking the knotted leather
strips over her flesh. She moaned but didn't try to get away. When
he saw evidence of her arousal, he began applying the cat more
vigorously, letting the knotted ends land where they may. Her ass
and womanhood turned a bright red color in response to the blood
rushing to those afflicted areas. He did this for several minutes,
waiting for her to begin screaming, but she only moaned louder. He
finally returned to the riding crop, his standby when he wanted her
to get past the pleasure part and into the pain. Releasing her pain
was therapeutic for them both, in his opinion. She always felt
better afterward and so did he. He cracked the riding crop across
her ass with medium strength, so she would know he had switched and
finally he was rewarded with a howl of pain. He laid four more
strokes across her ass and the sensitive areas of her anatomy in
quick succession, raising instant welts on her flesh and producing
satisfying screams.

He knelt on the bed between her raised
thighs and tasted her while she sagged against her restraints in
relief that the crop would not be applied again soon. She was
always shaved clean, at his request, and he admired her body as he
slowly tortured her with his tongue. She writhed once again, this
time in pleasure, yelping in pain when he paused his in his
attention to whip her twice more. He continued alternating pain
with pleasure for long minutes before making her come with his
tongue and his fingers. As she came, he applied the riding crop
three more times in quick succession before plunging himself inside
of her. He pulled out and pushed back in slowly, untying her legs
and allowing her to wrap them around him but keeping her hands tied
above her head and her blindfold in place. He continued his slow
pace, building the pressure inside of them both with agonizing
slowness. She begged and pleaded him to go faster but he ignored
her; finally, when she came a few seconds before him, he pinched
both of her nipples hard, making her gasp as her orgasm intensified
before emptying himself inside her. He stayed there afterward,
nuzzling her neck and kissing her until he was ready again. He
untied her hands and removed her blindfold, loving her gently while
they gazed into each other's eyes. He felt her getting ready to
come again and told her, "Keep your eyes open, baby." She did,
coming while he watched her, the intense scrutiny of his gaze as
much an aphrodisiac as his hands, tongue, and riding crop were. He
did the same when he came again, shuddering on top of her but
holding her eyes with his own.

When they finished, both were
trembling with exertion and emotion. He pulled out of her gently,
knowing her tissues were likely tender from the whip, and lay on
his side. He gathered her to him, her small hands trapped between
them against his chest and her right leg clamped between his. Her
head rested just beneath his chin and he felt rather than heard her
say, "I'm sorry," in a small voice. He held her tighter and
whispered, "Me too."

They slept peacefully, neither plagued
by bad dreams or worrying about the future, content to enjoy the
moments they'd just shared and knowing many such moments would be
theirs for the taking.

Chapter Nine: Elsa Loses
It

They were careful not to mention their
fight the next morning. Elsa was more solicitous than ever of her
big man, making sure he had a great breakfast--a healthy one, of
course--and refilling his coffee before he could ask. There were a
lot of smiles and rubbing each other's shoulders, gentle kisses and
caresses filling the kitchen with their soft sounds along with the
scent of rich, premium roasted coffee. Elsa was diligent about
making sure she only had one cup per day, as her doctor instructed,
but she savored every sip.

Joe left for the gym, promising to be
home for lunch. The wicked gleam in his eye got her heartbeat
racing and her libido paying attention as she remembered the last
time he came home for lunch. She promised him that she couldn't
wait for lunch. After he left, she took Spike for a walk and spent
some time playing with him, postponing the inevitable. Finally, she
phoned Martha to tell her the news; she'd put it off long
enough.

"Hey Martha, it's Elsa."

"Hey sweetie! How's that cookbook
coming along? Any kitchen tips you can share in advance with your
poor cooking deficient friend?"

"Actually, I have to talk to you about
the book."

"Uh-oh, doll that doesn't sound good.
What's going on?"

"Well, Joe proposed to me a couple of
weeks ago..."

"And you're telling me just now?
Congratulations, darling, that's wonderful!"

"Thanks, but I wasn't
done."

"You didn't tell that gorgeous hunk of
a man no, did you? That would be a travesty."

"Of course I didn't tell him no! But
at the engagement party, I got sick. I went to my doctor the next
morning and he said I have Type 2 Diabetes. That means I have to
change my entire lifestyle, including and especially the way I eat.
So..."

"Oh, Elsa, I'm so sorry honey. Are you
feeling better?"

"I've been working on making the
changes. It's really slow going as far as any results and my blood
sugar is still not completely where it should be. I haven't called
before now because I thought I could finish the cookbook with my
old recipes from before this happened, but I can't. I just can't
write about the food I can't eat anymore, it's too hard," Elsa's
voice cracked on the last sentence.

"Say no more, sweetheart. I'll let the
publisher know of the change. You'll just write a new cookbook,
dear, not a big deal. In fact, we can totally market this for
people in exactly your situation. Remember that one lady, the
Southern gal with the white hair...oh, what was her
name?"

"It's Paula Deen," Elsa responded, her
tone dry. Everyone in the culinary world knew of Paula Deen's need
to change her lifestyle for the same reason as Elsa was changing
hers now. Martha was forever forgetting people's names. She had
called Rachel Ray "that raspy-voiced girl" for ages before Elsa
finally gave up mentioning her in their conversations about food,
cooking, and possible television shows for her to watch that might
aid in tightening up her culinary skills.

"Yes, that's it! That Paula Deen woman
did the same thing and she's doing fine. So toss out the old
cookbook ideas and bring in the new! And once you lose the weight,
then all the better for the photo layout," Martha's voice brought
her back to the current conversation.

They talked for a while longer about
Elsa's plans for the new cookbook and her engagement to Joe. Though
Elsa loved Martha and knew she only had her best interests at
heart, it was nonetheless a relief to end the call, promising to
get in touch again soon for an update on how the new recipes were
working out.

The conversation did have a motivating
effect, however. Once she hung up with Martha, Elsa spent the rest
of the morning thinking of diabetic friendly recipes she could
include in a new cookbook. One problem she was having was what to
call the new book, however. She hoped Joe would be able to help her
out.

Thinking of Joe reminded
her of their fight from the day before. She knew that it was
entirely her fault, and her rear end was still sore from her
welcomed punishment.
What was wrong with
me?
she thought. Joe didn't deserve that,
but she couldn't help it; she was just so frustrated with the whole
thing. To soothe her troubled conscience, Elsa decided to test a
new twist on an old recipe for their dessert. She presented Joe
with a piece of her new and improved cheesecake after a sensible
salad dinner.

"Baby. Oh my god. This is
delicious!" he showered her with accolades. They were still being
overly nice, their fight forgiven but not entirely forgotten. She
had to admit, the cheesecake was pretty good and if there was
perhaps a less than sweet aftertaste from the artificial sugar,
it
was
still
cheesecake.

She savored her last bite, rolling it
around in her mouth before squishing the delectable filling against
the roof of her mouth with her tongue. Eyes closed, she sighed in
pleasure at the treat's mouth feel and her success in recreating a
dish that, one day ago, had brought her to the brink of frustration
and anger. She began to feel like she might get control of this
thing, after all. When she opened her eyes, Joe was leaned back in
his chair at the dining table, watching her. He was shirtless, clad
in only the sweatpants he'd put on after his post-work shower. His
dark eyes gleamed under the mellow light of the dining room
chandelier and his hand sliding down the front of his well chiseled
stomach and under the band of his sweats, tracing a slow path down
his flesh into territories Elsa was eager to explore with
him.

She rose from her seat and pushed her
jeans down her legs, taking her panties with them. She tore her
sweatshirt from her body, deftly removing both bra and shirt at
once, and knelt in front of Joe completely naked. He sucked in a
breath but said nothing, watching her with that smoky look in his
eyes, the one that told her she was prey. Such willing
prey.

She traced the same path his hand had
done down his firm abs before grasping the band of his sweats in
both hands and tugging downward. He lifted his finely sculpted ass
from the chair enough for her to slide the sweats down his muscular
legs. He kept both hands on the seat's cushion, gripping tightly in
anticipation of what she would do next. He was hard and ready for
her; she grasped him firmly in her small hand and stroked in just
the way he liked. He made a visceral sound deep in his ribcage but
remained motionless. She traced her tongue along the upper edge of
his erection before engulfing him completely in her mouth, burying
his shaft deep within her throat until she could no longer breathe.
She pleasured him with her tongue and lips, knowing where to apply
firm pressure, knowing where to lick and suck for maximum
effect.

"Baby stop, you're gonna make me come
right here in the dining room."

She said nothing, just smiled and kept
at her work. After another minute of her sweet torment, Joe could
stand it no longer. He stood up abruptly, grabbing her arms and
hauling her up with him. He swept her naked body into his arms and
strode down the hallway to the bedroom, her giggling softly in his
ear a sweet music to his soul. He noticed during the short journey
that she was lighter in his arms than before, but decided to
mention it another time. He loved her body and now was his time to
worship it.