Falloir (Passion Noire Book 2) (16 page)

‘Dean, I’ve never said I was going to train you to be
my
sub. That’s not going to happen for several reasons.’

‘What reasons?’ I snap. This is bullshit.

‘Well, because I’m not looking for a sub right now for a start and—’

‘So you’re telling me you’re not going to fuck in here ... for pleasure?’ Does she think I’m fucking stupid?

She pins me with a distinctly unimpressed gaze. ‘I didn’t say that. If I choose to walk in here and fuck a club sub, that’s not me taking a sub. That’s playtime for me and him: a mutual, no commitment beyond the regulatory safe, sane and consensual rules, TPE for a short period of time. And, for your—’

‘What’s TPE?’ I interrupt again.

‘Total Power Exchange. I have all the power, the control and make all the decisions for the agreed period of time. There’s no commitment beyond that. I wouldn’t be embarking upon a D/s relationship in the way you’re thinking. It’s playtime. A scene. Nothing more than that.’

‘Who with?’ I don’t mean to blurt it out but I have to know. The thought of her with someone else leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

She laughs and shrugs. ‘Whoever takes my fancy ... whoever’s in here ... whoever’s free and willing.’

She says it like it’s nothing. No big deal. Doesn’t she realise that she’s basically just rejected me and then said she’s not fussy who she fucks ... way to knock a man down then kick him in the balls.

‘But not me ...’

At least she has the decency to stop laughing and look as though she’s at least pretending to take me seriously. ‘No, Dean. My time is getting increasingly limited. If I come in here to relax and unwind with a sub, I’ll need a fully trained, considerably experienced sub at my feet. Anything less is hard work and kind of defeats the object—for me, at least.’

An experienced sub like the barman, no doubt. He was quick enough to take the chance to fuck her in here when she had that funny turn. He didn’t do anything that I can’t do. Once I’ve had these masterclasses, I’ll be able to fuck her and make her moan in ecstasy like he did. My cock’s fully healed now. I want to get started.

‘Okay, you can train me to be someone else’s but I might just prove to you that I’m worth hanging on to.’

‘Dean, you misunderstand. You’re submissive, nobody can argue with that. But I really don’t think you have what it takes to become
a
submissive. Maybe one day, but not right now.’

She cannot be fucking serious. She’s not even going to train me ... I’m not good enough to be a submissive. What is this crap? I glare at her, not trusting myself to open my mouth until I’ve processed this. There’s no way I’m going to give her ammunition to prove her point.

She smiles. ‘I can see you’re disappointed. But becoming a submissive takes a lot of commitment and I don’t think the time’s right for you. Like I say, maybe one day. But in the meantime, we’re going to concentrate on making you one of London’s finest fuckers. You’ll have women queuing up to take you to their beds, you’ll soon forget about me. You’ll be too busy with younger beauties with pert tits and social lives ... you can play the field or choose the most compatible one to settle down with. You’re a sweetheart, Dean ... and when you learn to fuck, there’ll be no holding you back. You’ll be like, Veuve who?’

‘I doubt that very much. You’re so different from other women ... you’re ...’

‘A sex goddess?’ she asks with a sparkle in her eye. ‘Filthy?’

I shrug, not sure whether she’d be offended if I admitted that she’d got it bang on.

‘Honey, girls go from friendly to filthy in the smack of an arse. You want a sex goddess? You go out there, behave like a porn star and you’ll attract them ... you can then pick out a big, bad dominant one—a little like me but perfect for you. You know I’m right, deep down. One day you’re going to be thanking me.’

Easy for her to say ... I don’t believe it for a moment. Yeah, if I can fuck well, I can walk into a club like this, choose any willing tart, fuck her and fuck off ... just like that slime-ball Jones did. But that’s not me. My mother raised me to treat women with respect. I want someone I can adore, worship even. Not some worthless slut who has no self-respect. I want someone who’s a few years older, wiser, who’s more confident and experienced at taking the lead ... someone like the woman sitting opposite me. Exactly like her, in fact.

Veuve starts prattling on about some exercises she’s setting me and how I’m to steer clear of alcohol when I’m with women and to limit myself to a couple of pints at all other times ... yadda, yadda, yadda ... I’m not really listening. I’m too busy trying to come up with a compromise that I can talk her into until I can prove to her that I’m the man for her.

I LIKE BEING IN Jones’ car—especially when he goes really fast, which isn’t very often but when it happens, it’s brilliant. I’ve found out that the window goes down but he says I should keep it up because of the climbing control or something. I’ve sneaked it halfway down. I love the feeling of the air on my face. It messes my hair up but it makes me feel free somehow. I don’t know whether it’s because the window’s down so I’m not trapped inside or whether it’s the cool air that makes it feel like we’re going so fast. I don’t care—I love it.

We pull into a big place with rows and rows of cars parked—they’re everywhere! There’s loads of big shops and there’s so many people. I don’t like it. I hope he doesn’t want me to go in any of them ... it’s too busy. I can’t see who’s coming or who might be hiding. My stomach goes all floppy when he drives past them and I stop holding my breath, blowing out a long, happy sigh. I wipe my sweaty palms on my shorts but they’re still damp so I put the window all the way down and put my hands out in the air. It feels good. Cool. Relaxing.

Until he pulls in another, smaller car park that’s even busier—full of cars and people about my age standing around. This is even worse than the shops. There’s a giant yellow M shape on top of a building. I wonder what M is for ... didn’t Jones say the place we’re going to for lunch starts with an M? I can see inside the building and although it looks quite dark, I can see it’s full of people—loads more of them who are about the same age as me. I can’t go in there.

I feel something like sick starting to come up to my mouth from my stomach ... I can’t do this. I’ll be sick. But Jones stops the car next to a board covered with pictures of food.

‘Do you see anything you’d like?’ he asks. ‘I’ve told you what I’m having: a quarter pounder with cheese meal—large ... real man’s food. And a cheeseburger for dessert because I don’t have a sweet tooth.’ He’s grinning like he’s made a joke but I don’t get it. I just want to get away from here.

‘I’ll have the same,’ I say, feeling like I can’t really have anything else after he said that about real men. I haven’t got a clue what a
Legend
or a
Fillet-o-Fish
is but Veuve’s made burgers before so I think it will be okay. ‘But could you go in and get it? I won’t like it in there. Too busy and too dark.’

He looks at me funny. ‘It’s okay, Kid. We’re in the Drive-Thru so we don’t have to go inside—we order our food and then they pass it to us. We stay in the car. Yeah, you’re right, it’s too busy in there today. Long queues, surrounded by screaming babies ... not my idea of fun. But the reason it looks dark inside is because the glass is tinted darker.’

I screw my face up, wondering what he’s on about. As we wait behind another car, he shows me how the car windows are not clear—they’re darker
…
tinted
… too. When I look closely I can see it’s brighter looking out when my window’s down. I realise that we’re moving forwards slowly again. Then we stop and a voice asks to take his order. But there’s nobody there. It’s just a blank screen.
Weird!
Jones talks back to the voice and then he begins to move again, driving round behind the building and to a window that opens as soon as he stops.

He pays the girl and she smiles at me when she tells us to have a nice day. Jones tells her to have a nice day too but I can’t speak. My chest feels all bubbly and my face is burning. We move to another window and another girl appears. She’s not as pretty as the other one and she doesn’t smile at me. She passes Jones our drinks and then a large, brown bag. I put the drinks on the shelf in front of me but Jones sees and tells me to move them before they fall over. He tells me to hold them but I’ve got the bag that’s hot at the bottom. I can smell the food. It’s making my stomach make noises.

Jones takes the food and puts the bag in the back of the car so I can hold the drinks. He tells me to watch that they don’t fall over and spill. I pull a face at him. What does he think I am, a baby? He pulls off and I nearly drop the drinks when one of them almost comes out of the grey thing.
Phew!
That was close. I don’t think Jones would be pleased. I think he likes his car to be clean and tidy.

He drives to a nearby park and we take the food to a table on the grass. We don’t really talk because we’re too busy eating. Jones was right about the quarter pounder burger thing. It’s very good but it’s making my stomach hurt. I don’t think I can eat the other burger or my little chips. As we eat, we look around us. There’s a football pitch way over the other side and down a slope, and loads of kids are playing. Near to us are tennis pitches. In the nearest one, two women are playing.

One woman has got very big tits. When she reaches up and then down quickly to start the ball off, they bounce more than the ball does. And when she runs and jumps ... o-oh ... there’s movement in my shorts. I’m glad Jones is sitting around the other side. My dick’s getting hard. I hate it when this happens. It does it when I wake up sometimes. It sometimes does it when Veuve isn’t wearing very much but at least it’s stopped doing it whenever she’s around. When she first took me to live with her, it didn’t really do it. I was too scared of what was going to happen to me. I thought she was going to hurt me. I was terrified, staying in my bed and not even talking to her. But after a few weeks, when I realised nothing bad was going to happen, I couldn’t look at her without it getting hard. It was so bad.

I try not to look at the woman in case it gets worse, so I look at the other one—she’s got long legs and she’s wearing a really short skirt that lifts up when she moves around. She hasn’t got very big tits though and I find my eyes keep going back to watch the big ones. I hear Jones laugh quietly and I turn to look at him but he’s looking away. As soon as I look away, he turns his head back again. I try to see if he’s watching the big tits too but he’s got those black glasses on so I can’t tell, but I bet he is.

One of the women—the one with the nice legs—shouts angrily and throws her hitting thing.

‘Calm your tits, missus,’ Jones says. He’s laughing so I join in but I don’t know what he means. Her tits are calm. They don’t move at all.

‘The other woman needs to calm hers down,’ I point out, trying to make a joke.

Jones looks at me, well his head turns to me a bit but he doesn’t seem to want to stop looking at the women, then he bursts out laughing. It’s so loud that the women look over. My face gets hot again because they’re staring and he’s still laughing really loud. But I can’t help smiling. I made a joke and Jones laughed.

They start playing again and Jones stops laughing. ‘Watching wouldn’t be as much fun if she calmed those down though, would it?’ he says, cupping his hands in front of his chest and bouncing them up and down.

I shake my head. No, it definitely wouldn’t. I’ve got no idea who’s winning ... I’m too busy hoping that she runs and jumps. A lot.

Eventually, they stop and leave. Jones says hello to them when they walk past us and they give him smiles. Then they laugh all the way to their car.

‘Ah well, it was good while it lasted,’ Jones says to me and I smile. I know exactly what he means. I’m a bit bored now and the sun’s hot. I hadn’t really noticed until now. We sit quietly for a few minutes. I wish some other ladies would come to play tennis but they don’t.

‘We should go swimming while it’s so hot,’ he says suddenly. ‘There’s a swimming pool over on the other side of the park and there’s nothing better than jumping into cool water on a hot day.’