SoulMates Part Six: Learning and Loving: Nathan

Next Part Seven: Growth and Endurance
Previous Part Five: Learning and Loving: Monique

Chapter 13: A Caveman Courting

While I worked at keeping up my end of the bargain, I was no less determined that Monique would fulfill her commitments. If I was to offer up myself to her tender mercies, she would have to provide me with the opportunity I wanted.

One problem was that I did not have much recent experience with courting myself. I even read some romance novels to bone up on what "the modern woman" wanted. Actually, the books turned out to be very entertaining, but not very helpful. Abducting my woman, mail ordering a bride or saving her company from bankruptcy were not viable options. In the end, I fell back on tried and true standbys.

I put fresh flowers on her desk, brought her a foil wrapped Godiva chocolate with her morning coffee and slipped a funny greeting card with her morning mail. I even tried my hand at love poems, which I will not bore you with here. Suffice it to say, I did not get where I am in life as a result of my literary talents. The poem made Monique laugh harder than the card. I let her think I intended it to be funny and decided not to write any more sonnets.

We did "date", just like we agreed. What surprised me was that this very confident, straightforward, modern (dare we say dominant?) woman, seemed very content to be so damned passive in our more conventional mating rituals. Whatever I proposed in the way of dates, or time together, was just fine with her. True to her word, she made time for us to be together, and seemed to enjoy being with me.

Now, this may seem somewhat contrary of me, but her ready compliance in my little schemes bothered me. Essentially, my problem was that she gave me no feedback, positive or negative. Even on nights where I knew the meal was bad, or the movie bombed. I would take her home and she would simply smile sweetly, thank me for a "lovely evening", kiss me on the cheek and blithely walk into her house.

Finally, I carefully examined what we were doing. We would go out to dinner in some nice little restaurant, then we would take in a film at some nice little cinema or we would go to a nice little concert. All very nice in small doses, you understand. Nice being the operative word. In my effort to win the lady fair, I overdid the culture. I was bored. Now, if I was bored, how could Monique be anything else.

I decided that, if I failed in this crazy courtship, I would fail showing her the things that I enjoyed and wanted to share with her.

Imagination was the key. Imagination, and a little bit of audacity. What to do as my opening salvo of my new campaign of romance became the burning question. The answer arrived in my mailbox that night in the form of a monthly news letter I normally subscribed to and did not bother to read. That night I did, and one of the event announcements caught my eye. I picked up the phone and was lucky. There was still one opening for a couple. I signed up immediately, promising to call back with the particulars the next day.

My next call was to Roselie. I needed a confederate in this stratagem, and once I explained what I was planning, she was gleefully pleased to help me pull it off. She even added a couple of touches that I, naive, inexperienced lad that I am, would never have come up with, or known how to go about if I had. Roselie promised to take care of all the details needed to pull off her plan.

Friday, everything was ready. I had the suitcase Roselie had packed for me in my Blazer, and Roselie met me at the entrance to Monique's drive. Monique was expecting another evening of blissful boredom at a play I would not understand. I only hoped she handled being surprised half so well as she enjoyed dishing them out.

I rang the door bell while Roselie hid to one side of the door. Monique answered and gaped wide-eyed at my appearance. Blue jeans, boots and a lumberjack shirt are not your normal wear for an evening of theatrical ennui. Per our plan, I pulled Monique out onto the porch, so Roselie could step quickly behind her. A squeal of surprise issued from my love as Roselie pulled the spandex, head to floor, bondage bag down over her. Working together, we affixed wide belts around her waist, hips, knees and ankles. I scooped her up, and carried my cursing, struggling package over to the Blazer and seat belted her into the passenger seat.

"She can breathe in there, can't she?" I asked Roselie after she had locked up the house and rejoined me.

"You bet. She loves getting me in that thing. Leaves me in there for hours, and teases me with little unannounced swats from time to time. It dulls your hearing a bit. You can't see through it, either. It will get a bit warm in there as she breathes, but she will be fine." A new roar of words I did not even think my refined love knew grated on our ears. "Fine, but major pissed off. You sure you know what you are doing, Nate?"

I grinned ruefully. "Nope, but it has to work better than what I have been doing. This way, at least, she will see what I like doing and make her choices based on that. Besides, I think I like getting a little of my own back." She grinned and we headed off. I dropped Roselie back at her car, and she promised to make sure that Monique's normal weekend chores got taken care of while we were off playing my game.

Monique had gotten very quiet. Truthfully, I preferred the noise. Sighing, I headed for the beltway. This was a very big gamble.

About an hour south of the beltway, out of the rush hour traffic, at last, I pulled over at a rest stop. I reached over and undid the bow knot tied into the small draw string on the top of the bag. Loosening the gathered material to make an opening in the bag, I slid the opening down over Monique's face so that the drawstring formed a collar at her neck. The look I got would have frozen water, maybe even air. "Thank you." she said with quiet fury.

"You are most welcome, my lady. Would you like something to drink? Water, soda, some juice perhaps?"

"Water, please." I reached into the cooler behind my seat and pulled out a bottle of spring water, which I opened and put a straw into. I held the straw to her mouth. She glared at me over the straw before deigning, very regally, to sip at the straw. Rather than face her, I started back up, and pulled back out onto the highway.

Two hours later, I pulled into the parking lot at Colonial Williamsburg. About two thirds of the way to Norfolk from the state capital of Richmond, Williamsburg is one of those rare magical places where history comes alive. I used to spend off duty time there while stationed in Norfolk taking in the exhibits, enjoying the gardens and wishing I could work there. Unfortunately, I am not much of a craftsman.

I left Monique in the truck, still in the bag and seat belted into her seat, and went in to lobby of the visitor center. Ten minutes later, I was back in the truck, trying to figure out how to handle the latest fiasco. I drove to the set of cabins behind the visitor center and parked in the reserved slot. It was already dark, so I was able to carry Monique into the cabin without anyone being the wiser. I then retrieved her bag, but not mine, and brought it in, too.

Monique sat on the bed, rigidly unmoving inside the bag. Raw fury made her face look like a work of marble. None of this had gone the way I had hoped. She simply was not taking this in the manner that I had intended and hoped. She had been angry since we started and had gotten progressively angrier. And now, the darn reservations had been screwed up. With a resigned sigh, I undid the neck collar of the bag, so she could free herself and then took the chair opposite the double bed. With exaggeratedly slow movements, her eyes locked on mine the entire time, she opened the bag and freed her upper torso and arms. She rocked back on her back and slid the bag under her bottom, sat back up and let it fall to the floor.

"Now, what, Nathan? It is obvious that this is the only empty room. Do we share these.." she swept her arm about to take in the comfortable, but Spartanly furnished room. "Luxurious accommodations? And this marvelous bed? What is the matter? Decide that the courtship was not going fast enough? You got Roselie to help you spirit me away so that you could really press your suit?"

"No! That was not my idea at all."

"Well, then, tell me what I can do? You did not pickup my purse. I have no money, no credit cards. I assume that I do have some clothes in that suitcase?" I nodded. "Well, it will be interesting to see what Roselie thinks is suitable for a forced seduction."

I shook my head wearily. "No seduction, Monique, forced or otherwise. In your suitcase you will find jeans, hiking boots, toiletries, shirts and underwear. I did not know if you would want to participate this weekend, so I told her to pack you some stuff so you could enjoy yourself while I did." I stood and walked over to her. She flinched. She actually flinched. That did it, it was all over.

Feeling like crying, I pulled out my wallet. I dropped all but 50 dollars of the three hundred I had brought with me on her lap. I pulled out my American Express card and dropped that in her lap. "If you can bear to wait, I will take you anywhere you want to go tomorrow. If you can't, I will call you a cab to take you to the airport." I gave her the key to the room. "I am going to go make my bed up in the truck. You can decide what you want to do, and I will wait for you there." I started to leave, then stopped to laugh ruefully. "I guess I just don't do romantic abductions well."

Chapter 14: Communication

I was laying in the back of the Blazer in my sleeping bag when she came out, dressed in jeans, T-shirt and hiking boots. She got into the driver's seat and sat there, looking at me in the rearview mirror. "No perfume, no lace lingerie, not even a stocking in the bag, Evans. Lousy way to run a seduction. Mind telling me what is going on? Oh yeah, and what about those odd clothes in the closet in there?"

My words were slow, and very tired. It had seemed like such a good idea when I had thought of it. "You know that we are at Colonial Williamsburg?" She nodded. Well, at least she had noticed that much. "They have a special members only weekend each summer, where members can pay a fee and get to dress up and be part of the exhibits as sort of apprentices. I have always wanted to do it. Our other dates were not going well, and I thought it would be fun. I thought if we did something that was really enjoyable, it might make a difference for us. I did not know how you would take it, so I asked Roselie, She said you'd love it and offered to help. She also came up with the bright idea of the abduction. There were supposed to be two rooms, but somehow that got mucked up, too." I shook my head at the futility of it all.

"Monique, you are, always have been and always will be completely safe with me. I would never hurt you, or force you to do something I thought was against your will. Tomorrow, we will leave and I will take you straight home, or, if you can't trust me, I will see to it that you get home safely without having to be with me."

She sat there, staring at me in the mirror. One thing about Monique, she thoroughly understood the power of abject silence. "So, what did you have planned for us, Nathan, for me?"

"Nothing much, Monique. Separate rooms for the night, breakfast, some playacting in the town, dinner and some dancing. We could do a little sight seeing on Sunday before going home. No improprieties, Monique. Just something together that was fun, instead of incredibly boring. The abduction was a big mistake, and for that, I apologize."

"I take it, all of this is already paid for?"

I smiled ruefully. "Yes, Monique, if it is any salve to your injured pride, I am out a big chunk of non-refundable change."

"And these play acting roles, what would they be?"

I grinned this time. "I was going to learn some farrier craft with the Governor's saddle maker; you were going to be the upstairs maid in Governor's Palace."

Her eyebrows lifted out of the field of the little mirror. "Oh?? I was to be zee little sweet French maid?" She said in what I knew to be an intentionally terrible French accent since she was fluent in that language.

I chuckled in spite of myself. "No, I suspect it is more like a Cockney English tweeny than the French Maid." We both became quiet. "I meant what I said, Monique. I would never hurt you, and I am sorry about this fiasco."

She nodded. "You intend to sleep out here?"

"It was never my intention to force the issue of sharing a bed, Monique. You can go ask the night manager. He will tell you that they screwed up and rented the other room, even though both of mine were guaranteed for late arrival. So, since you are the victim, you get the bed."

"No wheedling, no trying to get back on my good side?" I shook my head. "Well, damn, Evans. Couldn't you manage just a little groveling and begging? Just so that I know you are suitably humbled before I forgive you?" It was my turn to be surprised. "Nathan, I need to explain something, and it is hard, but you need to know. Not even Roselie knows this."

She seemed to be gathering herself for a moment. "Remember that I told you how I met Sondra, how I had been hurt in some heavy S/M play?" I nodded. "Well, that was an abduction scene. Only it turned ugly. I tried to safeword, and the men got upset at being deprived of their fun. It became a gang rape." She was batting tears from her eyes, trying to reestablish control. "Six men that I trusted, Nathan. And I could not even bring charges. I had gone along with it. Group sex was part of the plan. Only I got frightened, and safeworded. They did not stop. Can you imagine, trying to explain to a jury how the utterance of "Blackwatch" made what had been consensual sex among adults into a rape?"

She turned to face me for the first time. "I wanted to trust you, Nathan, but abduction scenes are not something I handle very well. I don't even like them as dominant and I don't do them. Much to Roselie's disappointment, because she likes them." Tears were making tracks down her cheeks. She took a deep breath, and faced me again. "We need to get some sleep and deal with this in the morning." She got out of the truck and stood, waiting. When I made no move to follow, she stepped back into the truck. "Come on, Nathan. I believe you aren't setting me up. We can share the bed." She snorted, some of her normal energy and color returning. "My god, it is not as if I have not seen you naked or that we have not been intimate."

She was right there. Although I had not yet seen her completely nude, I had seen just about every part of her nude. And Mistress Monique had been "fine tuning" my "adequate for an untrained male" oral technique. However, we had never made love. On top of that, I was not sure she could be quite so unconcerned as she made out. If she had really been that upset about tonight, I was not sure she needed me invading her space. I shook my head. "No, I will sleep here. If you need me, you can get me, but I am not going to impose further on you tonight. I will be fine. I often sleep back here. You go to bed and tell me your decision in the morning."

Disbelief washed over her face. She sat there, in the front seat, not moving. Shaking her head, she fixed her basilisk stare on me. "Let me understand this, Nathan. I just invited you to share my bed and you are refusing me? And you claim to love me?"

"Yes, I love you. And you invited me to sleep in your bed, not share it and all the benefits therein. If I share your bed, I will wake up making love to you, I want you that badly. When I make love to you, I want it to be with us both fully awake, fully aware of what we are doing, wanting it so badly we can't stop and free from any trappings of dominance or submission."

"And if I said I wanted you, right now?" She cocked her right eyebrow, her face alight with curiosity.

"I'd say that you could lead me to your bed, and I would do my manful best. But you haven't said that, Monique. I don't think you can say that tonight, so I am staying right here. Close enough to watch over you and be there if you need me, and far enough for you to feel safe and to deal with any bad feelings that are left over from this ill considered escapade."

She considered that for several minutes before turning that blinding smile of hers on me. She had obviously reached a decision. "Very well, Nathan. Thank you. I don't know if I completely agree with you, but, thank you for caring that much." She leaned over the seat to kiss me on the cheek and offer her own cheek for a kiss in return. Then she left the truck and returned to the room with a swaggering strut. She was back in control. I only wished that I was.

Chapter 15: A Colonial Courting

Something light and tickling teased me awake the next morning at seven am. My eyes cracked open to be flicked again with the irritant. It was Monique, already in her period costume, leaning into my truck using her feather duster to urge me awake. The coarse black muslin gown was tight on her. Her breasts were a size or two larger that the bodice of the high necked dress and the cloth pulled at the button and button holes. Unlike gentry ladies' clothes, this dress was meant to be put on without aid and buttoned up the front, not up the back. A long white apron and a white mob cap completed her outfit. I smiled appreciatively at her appearance. "You look lovely." I said with sleep-husky tones. "Does that mean we are staying?"

To my amazement, she colored to her mobcap. "Well, yes, thank you, Nathan. And yes, I rather think I would like to stay." She started pulling with child like enthusiasm at my sleeping bag. "Now, hurry. You need to get dressed, too. The flyer says breakfast is in 20 minutes and I am starved."

I was, too. Neither of us had felt much appetite last night and yesterday lunch was a long time ago. I shaved quickly, and pulled on the coarse stockings, trousers, shirt and vest that made up my outfit. Period shoes had not been provided so we wore our hiking boots. Monique's dress hid hers, but mine looked kind of silly with the rest of my outfit. "Well, at least your stuff fits. I can barely breathe in this dress. Did you tell them my size?"

I nodded. "Well, I can see that you are going to have to become much more familiar with my clothes in the future, Mr. Evans. Count on it!" Her grin was infectious, and we scuttled off like children on an adventure for breakfast.

Our apprenticeships were only for the early morning, since the exhibits actually opened at 10am. We got to spend two hours with the staff members in our area on Saturday and Sunday before they had to shoo us off and entertain the public. We wandered around the town, in our period dress, and then headed back for lunch at about noon. After lunch, we changed into modern wear, since the hot summer tidewater Virginia sun made the heavy black clothes instruments of torture. My respect for the staff went up another couple of notches.

We took a drive to the archeological dig site of a failed colonial settlement near the shore, and walked along the banks. Sometime during the walk, Monique's hand found mine. By the end of that walk, my arm was around her waist, holding her tightly against me.

That night, dinner was served to us and the rest of the folks taking part in the special weekend in the gardens at the Governor's Mansion. A gorgeous Virginia sunset, and candles provided all the illumination we needed. I am not even sure what we ate. Dance music was provided by a small group, again in period costume. A variety of music, both period and more modern, was played and the dancing was a lot of fun. We waltzed, Began the Beguine, danced the minuet and even got in an old fashioned polka. However, you have not lived until you have tried to do the twist of 1960's fame to the accompaniment of a string quartet and harpsichord. Monique and I were both convulsed in laughter and could hardly keep standing let alone dance.

I walked Monique back to the room along the moonlit path that connected the town with the visitor center. When I stopped at the door, she turned on me, quite indignantly. I kissed her, intending to stop her tirade with a gentle peck, when she took charge of the kiss. Spontaneous combustion.

My senses did not return until I realized she had firm grips on both my shirt lapels and was backing into the room towards the bed. With great effort, I broke the kiss. "No, Monique. Not now. This..."

She shut me up this time with a kiss, and then looked me in the eye. "Is exactly what I want. Now, kiss me some more, Nathan. You do it very well." I did it well? Who the hell was kissing whom?

Was she really ready for this? Just last night she had wanted my guts for garters. Hell, last night she had been afraid of me. No, I was not going to blow it yet. Steeling myself against the overwhelming sensuality she was washing me with, I scooped her up into my arms, strode to the bed, dropped her, and then ran from the room. I slammed the door behind me and ran to the truck, locking its door behind me.

I was so hard I was shaking. Calling myself a hundred kinds of fool, I tried to get comfortable. I was too aroused, and I had to get past Monique to even try the likely-to-be-ineffective cold shower. I would never make it.

The door to the cabin opened and the outside door light came on. Monique stepped out on to the stoop. She was nude. Smiling wickedly, she waved, and blew me a kiss. Then she turned back to the room, gave an exaggerated stretch that showed off every delectable curve of her and closed the door behind her. I watched in stupefied disbelief as one by one, all the lights went out.

I did not get any sleep that night.

Monique was at my door again at seven on Sunday, rigged out in her maid costume, ready to start the day. Sunday morning was spent much as Saturday had been, first with the artisans, and then as tourists. I discovered something about Monique, though. Monique is a souvenir hound. At noon, we returned laden with... ummm.. treasures, and checked out of our, or rather, her room.

Our drive home was more amiable than the trip down. We made small talk and chatted about our experiences with the staff. Monique, not surprisingly, was not interested in pursuing a career as a domestic servant, but the art of saddle making had been fascinating. Monique was intrigued by my experiences. Not only did it turn out that she had been an enthusiastic equestrienne in her life, but as she pointed out, there were other things one could do with leather, too.

A noticeable change came over her when we reached the beltway. Her effervescence gave way to pensiveness, and more than once, I felt her staring at me. Finally, she reached a decision. "Now, that we are almost home." Her voice trailed off for a moment. "What did you hope to accomplish this weekend, Nathan? I mean, I had a wonderful time, once we got over the rough start, but we did not do anything. Surely, with that little bondage game start, you must have held out hopes of making love with me. And, I all but dragged you into bed last night and you did not do a damn thing, damn you!" Her voice rose in volume with each word until she was shouting.

"I wanted us to be together, doing something that was so different, that our little walls were unnecessary. I don't know about you, but our last few dates had not been much fun. We were so busy being... proper. Maybe that was a reaction to how.. well, improper is not quite the word I want." I thought for a moment. "Unusual, I guess, a reaction to how unusual the other aspect of our relationship is. But in any case, we were so careful on our dates that I, for one, was not having simple fun, and certainly not as much as I should have been. I mean, I was with you! It should have been great, only, it wasn't. So, this was available, and I, impulsively, decided to do it."

"It was a way to separate from all other aspects of our relationship, and just be together." I turned off onto the exit to her house. "As to making love, I had hopes, but that is all. Hell, I am always hoping. But last night? I don't know why I fought. I wasn't sure you were really reacting to me or to the emotion of the weekend, and I finally could not take the chance."

I pulled into her drive and slowly maneuvered my truck to her door. We passed the remainder of the trip in silence. When we stopped, I carried her bag to the house. She invited me in and offered me some coffee. Not wanting to have this day end too soon, I happily accepted.

She served at her kitchen table. The companionable quiet grew and enclosed us in warm comfort. I was almost surprised when she broke the silence. "What did you mean, Nathan, about not taking a chance? I mean, it seems to me you take a chance every time you scene with me."

Holding out my cup for a refill, I considered my words carefully. "I control my reaction to that, Monique. But, I don't control your reactions. Last night, I could have taken what you offered, but if you had regretted it, and the cost had been never to share times like this with you? That price would have been too big. I am old enough, mature enough to appreciate the quiet times now, Monique." I reached out and laid my hand over hers. She turned her hand so that she could return my grip. "I want it all, Monique. The good with the bad, the boisterous with the quiet, the hot sweaty sex and the warm gentle cuddling. I even want to perform well for Mistress Monique because she is also you. I want to be everything you need and want, Monique. I would not, could not endanger that for what would have been a fantastic night of lovemaking."

She smiled at me, a gentle smile that I did not ever remember seeing before. "That is a lot to want, Nathan. I want much the same things myself. I would want to be everything for my man that I could be, short of not being myself. One thing, though, Nathan." I gave her my full attention. "I do know my own mind. Next time I invite you to my bed, remember that." Her eyes danced in mirth. "Then, you would be exhausted with good reason, and not because you spent the night, horny, alone in a truck, tossing and turning."

She stood then, and walked over to me, and gracefully knelt in front of me. "You will never rest tonight either, Nathan." She reached up her face and kissed me softly on the lips. "You know, Nathan, I do think you are going to be my man. I think I do love you." Her hand groped once in my groin, then found the zipper tab of my jeans and pulled. She was kissing me again before I could protest. Skilled hands had my penis out in moments, and began gently massaging and teasing the shaft. The pent up excitement of the previous night, and the incredible carnality of her kiss had me erect in no time. She slowly slid back down my torso, to her knees in front of my now rampant cock. The soft touch of her hair on my skin, the tickling tease of her breath on the glans, her agile tormenting fingers on the shaft, drove me mad.

With last reserves of will power, I reached down to pull her up, to get her away. "Monique, love, this is not necessary, I am a grown man and I won't die from frustration." I hoped.

A low, soft chuckle curled my toes. "Oh, I'll say you're grown, dear, and quite nicely, too. And trust me, frustration is the last thing you will be feeling." A hot, wet glove enveloped me, inhaled me. My eyes crossed at the intensity of the sensations. I gripped the arm rests of the kitchen chair, trying to keep from grabbing her head and helping her. God, she did not need any help, but I sure did.

Forty eight emotion filled hours were too much for me. Muscles in the pit of my gut started knotting, and my eyes locked closed. "Monique, I can't hold back much longer..."

A muffled, gargled word that sounded like "doonnt" answered me, and something gently tickled at, then slipped up my anus. I went rigid with surprise at the intrusion for one second, and then the world shattered around me. I spilled my seed into her and she welcomed it with a squeal of pleasure that vibrated up my cock and made me climax even harder.

I leaned back in the chair, trying to recover my composure as I fell free of Monique's mouth. She slithered her way up me and settled her self on me lap, facing me with her thighs squeezing mine. A devilish glint in her eyes, she leaned over and pressed her mouth to mine, her tongue stabbing into mine. Wrapping my arms around her, I hugged her tightly to me, and deepened the kiss. She was coffee flavored, with a salty aftertaste that I realized was my own semen.

I started to slip my own hand down, fully intending to return the gift, but she caught my wrist and held it. She leaned back, smiled and then kissed me again. "No, not tonight, Nathan. I don't need it." I raised my eyebrows, and she giggled. "No, really. I came, too, when you did. Surprised the hell out of me, too." She kissed me again and then stood to let me rise as well. I adjusted my trousers while she just grinned happily. She took my hand and led me back to the foyer. "C'mon. You need to go rest." She grinned cheekily. "Now that you no longer have that on your mind."

"Thank you, Monique, for a wonderful weekend, and for an even more wonderful ending." She hugged me again, and kissed me. I headed out the door to the truck.

"Nathan!?!" Her yell brought me up short and I turned. She was standing in her doorway, waving wildly, and grinning hugely. "I do love you, Nathan. Quite hopelessly, I think. See you tomorrow." And with that bombshell, she disappeared into her house. She did it to me again!

That weekend became a turning point for us. Certain, we became far more comfortable together and in the more conventional side of our courting. We stopped trying to impress each other with our maturity and poise, and simply enjoyed being with each other, doing things that we both enjoyed. We discovered that both of us loved the zoo, although where I liked the big cats, she loved the reptile house. >shudder<. It was after such an outing, a fine warm July Saturday, that Monique and I made love for the first time. It was quite as marvelous as I had dreamed.

Part Seven: Growth and Endurance
Previous Part Five: Learning and Loving: Monique