“Yes, and it’s in French. A shame we didn’t decide on a German restaurant.”
She kicked me under the table.
“What?” I asked. “Just trying to expand your foreign vocabulary.”
She sighed and leaned back into her seat after we ordered. “Only one more week.”
I didn’t want to think about returning home just yet. Didn’t want to have to think about the reality outside of our honeymoon haven. “It’s going by so quickly. Is there something you specifically want to do next week?”
“You mean as in places to go, or things we could do in the chalet?”
I nearly choked on my drink. “I was talking about places to go, but if there are things we haven’t done otherwise I’m open to those as well.”
She looked over both shoulders. The restaurant was at capacity, but the tables were arranged to give privacy. We wouldn’t be overheard.
“I’ve worn your collar two days so far. I’d like to wear it more.”
I swirled my drink. “I can arrange that.”
“Maybe another two days?”
“Monday and Tuesday?”
“I think that would work perfectly.”
Playing early in the week would work out well since we’d be traveling home the next weekend and, as such, I probably wouldn’t collar her.
“There’s actually something else I wanted to talk about,” she said. “But I’m not sure this is the right place.”
“Something private?”
She nodded.
“You’re probably right. This isn’t the best place to discuss those types of things. Can it wait until we get back?”
She agreed and we spent the rest of the night eating, drinking, and laughing. After dinner we walked around the village some. From one spot, if you stood the right way and held your head just so, you could see our chalet. I pointed it out to Abby and wondered out loud if anyone had a telescope. She punched my shoulder.
Late that night, after we returned, I found her propped up on pillows in front of the fireplace. Her hair was still slightly damp from her shower and she held a mug of coffee.
“This looks comfortable,” I said, taking a seat beside her. “What are you thinking?”
“Remember a few nights ago when I called you ‘Sir’ and didn’t remember doing it later?”
It was suddenly very clear why she didn’t want to have this conversation at the restaurant. “Yes.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. How I like it when you take control during sex, even when I’m not wearing your collar, and what that means.”
“And what do you think it means?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it. I know I don’t want to wear your collar every day.”
I loved the fact that our relationship was strong and open enough for us to talk about things we didn’t want. Loved that we felt comfortable enough to simply talk. Especially when we didn’t know something.
“I don’t want you to wear it that often, either,” I said. “So we both agree on that.”
She had her robe on and was sitting facing the fireplace, hugging her knees. She was gazing into the fire with a look of utter concentration, as if she could find the answers she was looking for in the flames. I decided to take a different approach.
“Look at me, Abby.”
She didn’t even hesitate in shifting her focus from the fire to me.
“That right there,” I said. “Why do you think you turned your head so quickly and without stopping to think about it?”
“I know you want me to say because I’m a submissive, but I don’t think that’s the whole reason.” Her head lifted just a bit. “I think most people would react the same way.”
“Good point. You’re right on that one.” I thought for a second on how best to make my case. “Let’s try this.” I scooted closer to her and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s say we’re naked.”
She pulled back slightly. “Are we just pretending or are we actually getting naked? Because if we’re actually getting naked, I don’t see this conversation lasting very long.”
I bit her earlobe. “We’ll just pretend for now. So in my scenario, we’re both naked—”
“Am I wearing your collar or not?”
“You’re not. And I’m kissing you kind of like this.” I turned her to face me and I stopped whatever words she was about to say by crushing my lips to hers. I framed her face and kissed her long and slow and deep. When I pulled back, she was panting.
She kicked me under the table.
“What?” I asked. “Just trying to expand your foreign vocabulary.”
She sighed and leaned back into her seat after we ordered. “Only one more week.”
I didn’t want to think about returning home just yet. Didn’t want to have to think about the reality outside of our honeymoon haven. “It’s going by so quickly. Is there something you specifically want to do next week?”
“You mean as in places to go, or things we could do in the chalet?”
I nearly choked on my drink. “I was talking about places to go, but if there are things we haven’t done otherwise I’m open to those as well.”
She looked over both shoulders. The restaurant was at capacity, but the tables were arranged to give privacy. We wouldn’t be overheard.
“I’ve worn your collar two days so far. I’d like to wear it more.”
I swirled my drink. “I can arrange that.”
“Maybe another two days?”
“Monday and Tuesday?”
“I think that would work perfectly.”
Playing early in the week would work out well since we’d be traveling home the next weekend and, as such, I probably wouldn’t collar her.
“There’s actually something else I wanted to talk about,” she said. “But I’m not sure this is the right place.”
“Something private?”
She nodded.
“You’re probably right. This isn’t the best place to discuss those types of things. Can it wait until we get back?”
She agreed and we spent the rest of the night eating, drinking, and laughing. After dinner we walked around the village some. From one spot, if you stood the right way and held your head just so, you could see our chalet. I pointed it out to Abby and wondered out loud if anyone had a telescope. She punched my shoulder.
Late that night, after we returned, I found her propped up on pillows in front of the fireplace. Her hair was still slightly damp from her shower and she held a mug of coffee.
“This looks comfortable,” I said, taking a seat beside her. “What are you thinking?”
“Remember a few nights ago when I called you ‘Sir’ and didn’t remember doing it later?”
It was suddenly very clear why she didn’t want to have this conversation at the restaurant. “Yes.”
“I’ve been thinking about that. How I like it when you take control during sex, even when I’m not wearing your collar, and what that means.”
“And what do you think it means?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it. I know I don’t want to wear your collar every day.”
I loved the fact that our relationship was strong and open enough for us to talk about things we didn’t want. Loved that we felt comfortable enough to simply talk. Especially when we didn’t know something.
“I don’t want you to wear it that often, either,” I said. “So we both agree on that.”
She had her robe on and was sitting facing the fireplace, hugging her knees. She was gazing into the fire with a look of utter concentration, as if she could find the answers she was looking for in the flames. I decided to take a different approach.
“Look at me, Abby.”
She didn’t even hesitate in shifting her focus from the fire to me.
“That right there,” I said. “Why do you think you turned your head so quickly and without stopping to think about it?”
“I know you want me to say because I’m a submissive, but I don’t think that’s the whole reason.” Her head lifted just a bit. “I think most people would react the same way.”
“Good point. You’re right on that one.” I thought for a second on how best to make my case. “Let’s try this.” I scooted closer to her and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s say we’re naked.”
She pulled back slightly. “Are we just pretending or are we actually getting naked? Because if we’re actually getting naked, I don’t see this conversation lasting very long.”
I bit her earlobe. “We’ll just pretend for now. So in my scenario, we’re both naked—”
“Am I wearing your collar or not?”
“You’re not. And I’m kissing you kind of like this.” I turned her to face me and I stopped whatever words she was about to say by crushing my lips to hers. I framed her face and kissed her long and slow and deep. When I pulled back, she was panting.
