Book One: Velvet Memories.

Chapter Seven: Adonis.

It was a perfectly normal day for such an unusual situation.

I sat quietly in the passengers seat of a friends' motor vehicle, occasionally speaking up to navigate.
When we arrived, the house looked perfectly normal, and the greeting from Witch Isobel was warm and welcoming.

Inside stepped I, a little nervous and very shy.
He was on the couch, with the delectable Salmacis comfortably resting beside him.
I had seen him before, in public, but never had he looked so at ease; here, he was a king in his domain.
I blushed, and sat precariously on the edge of a couch, legs modestly together lest my skirt show an inappropriate amount of leg.

More friends arrived, a trickle of ones and twos, all talking merrily and sitting themselves in the living room.
I smiled and made conversation with the others, yet all the while very very aware of him.
Aware of where he was at any given moment.
Aware that he might be watching me, observing me, appraising me.
At lunch, I ate daintily, in the manner of a small sparrow; that he might approve of my manners and lady-like behaviour.

I gathered courage, and sat with him at his request, feeling his warm body against mine, revelling in the electric spark that jumped from his skin to mine with each accidental touch.
I lay my head on his chest and smiled, feeling content.

Circumstances moved us, and I found myself sitting a metre away from his seat. I inched closer, hoping desperately that the move would go unnoticed.
Closer... Closer... My heart fluttering rapidly in my chest...
I reached the side of his seat, and his hand glided down to stroke my hair.
I relaxed almost instantly, calmed, tamed.

His knowing, devilish smile made me wet.
That simple, innocent caress of my hair made me feel safe, and accepted.
It also made my cunt throb and pulse and grow wetter each time I felt his fingers brush my skin.
The visit ended, and I was reluctant to leave.
My friends thought to make a quirky game of burying their faces in my robust cleavage.
Shyly, I invited him to join in.

In a respectful and gentlemanly way, he refused, mentioning that he should like to take me up on that offer at some later date... In a more private setting.
My face, and cunt, heated.

I thought of him much that day. And the day after that.
He was on my mind often, that charming smile, those clever fingers, that caring and protective nature.
He also aroused something in me that begged to be taken advantage of.
I wanted to be used by him, bound and gagged and hurt and fucked by him.
And it was he, Adonis, that made it at all possible for me to find my true self in these fantasies.
From perhaps that very day, I fell in love with him. The more I learnt about him, the harder I fell.
My heart became entwined irrevocably with his; our paths running parallel to one another.

To this day, Adonis remains my protector, my champion knight, and the one I run to first when things go wrong.
His kind words lift me from sorrow; his skilful kisses leave me breathless with wonder and desire.

It was a perfectly normal day for such a fortunate situation.