Marc's Other Appointment

As Marc closed the door to his apartment behind him, he sighed softly and smiled a little to himself. Leaving Sinead like that had been harder than he’d thought, but played right into his game with her. The fact that she’d had him feel the buttplug she was wearing, in a semi-public spot like the hallway outside her apartment, told him a lot about how things were progressing. The challenge she’d thrown down was another signal - that she denied him vehemently to her friend Jules, that she wasn’t accepting what was happening between them yet, showed the game was still on.

Marc wondered if Sinead realised it was a game between the two of them or not. He knew she knew something was going on, but did she know how it ended, or was she still telling herself it was all for the good of the work?

“Good evening, dear,” Felicity said as he walked down the hall into the open area of the lower level of his home. She was lounging over in the sitting area, just closing a thick text of some sort as she sat up and smiled at him.

“Bonsoir, Felicity,” Marc said, shrugging out of his suit coat. Felicity quickly stood and came to him, taking the coat before he could hang it on the back of the chair himself so she could fold it neatly. He smiled at the little gesture, taking her chin between his finger and thumb and pulling into a kiss that she willingly deepened as she smiled against his lips. She was dressed in a silky, pearl-coloured blouse that was already unbuttoned halfway, showing off the bustier he’d bought her the previous year. It was a beautiful thing, likely meant to be wedding lingerie for a bride, but then what was the point of lingerie purchased for just one night?

“Something is on your mind,” Felicity said as the kiss ended. She had her hands flat on his chest, looking up at him with those baby-blue eyes of hers.

“You know me well, ma petite fée,” he sighed.

“Come,” she said, taking his hand and leading him over to his favourite seat. She quickly, efficiently, undid his belt and hung it around her neck, then undid his slacks and dropped to her knees, pulling off his briefs along with his pants. She folded both neatly and set them aside as Marc sat, and then she looped his belt through itself and tightened it around her neck, leaning forward to press her bosom to his knees as she offered him the long end of the belt like a leash.

“Not that,” he said, frowning a little as he shook his head. He gently pulled the belt loose and raised it over her head before cupping her cheek and brushing his thumb over her cheek. “I don’t think tonight is a night that we’ll play like that.”

She smiled softly, and Marc thought he saw a flicker of sadness in it, or maybe it was compassion. “Then, my dear, allow me to help you reach clarity.” She sat forward and soon her lips were around his shaft, and Marc was groaning as Felicity lovingly bathed his cock with her lips and tongue. She was slow and smooth, but as the saying went, ‘slow is smooth and smooth is fast.’ It didn’t take long for her to bring his orgasm to the fore, and she kept him there for a few minutes on purpose, not tipping him over until the pressure had built enough that he put a hand into her hair. Then, with a smile as she looked up at him, she tipped him over and slurped up every ounce of cum that he gave her.

When he was finished, Felicity quickly cleaned him again with her mouth before standing and moving to the kitchen. First she rinsed her mouth - something that, in the passion of the moment, Marc didn’t always care about, but appreciated now - and then fetched down a wine glass and the latest bottle he had opened. She returned with it, handing him the wine, and then slid onto his lap and curled up with her head resting on his shoulder. Her cleavage was well within view, a tantalising sight that she knew she was providing, but wasn’t the point.

“Talk to me, Marc,” she said softly.

Marc, for his part, took a sip of the wine and hummed softly in his chest as he revelled in the warmth of her on him, the flavours in his mouth, and the light-headed clarity in his mind. When he swallowed he was tempted to take another sip, but he wasn’t one to avoid uncomfortable topics for himself.

“Astrid has done something for me,” he said. “A favour, that has to do with our dear Detective. Instead of her usual compensation, she’s asked to spend a night with us. Like last time.”

Marc could feel the hesitation in Felicity’s body. Not fear, or panic. Just hesitation. “I assume that you have reservations, if you aren’t simply ordering me to do it,” she said.

“Many,” Marc admitted. “But they boil down to a few. Last time we tried this, it was a bit much. For both of us. And I certainly don’t like not having total control of our games. I don’t like seeing you in distress and not being the immediate relief.”

“Oh, Marc,” Felicity said, stroking his chest through his dress shirt. “I understand. I trust you.”

“And I appreciate that trust immensely, ma petite fée,” Marc said. “Another of my reservations is that I’m asking you to do this for the sake of the Detective and my game with her. You have no reason to help with that.”

“Marc, please,” Felicity said, shifting slightly to sit higher and look at him more on an even plane. “Is the information that Mistress Astrid has going to help the Detective with her real work?”

“Likely,” Marc said.

“Then it isn’t for the game,” Felicity said. “She is a policewoman. If it took Mistress Astrid to get the information, then it must be important and difficult to procure. Does the Detective know?”

“Not about this,” Marc said. “I don’t-”

“Shhh,” Felicity hushed him. “I appreciate that you are worried for me, Marc. And that you respect me. I’ll do it as long as you are there too. I wouldn’t spend time with her alone, but with you there I trust it will be fun, even if we push my limits again.”

Marc was surprised to find a denial on his lips. A declaration that he was thankful for her willingness, but that they wouldn’t do it. That he wouldn’t share her with Astrid. He felt… was it jealousy? Was he possessive of his escort? The arrangement was specifically designed to be free of that, and until this choice, he’d never felt particularly possessive of her.

Years together, however… he was invested in her, he realised. Invested in what they had built between them. His mind went back to the first day he’d met the Detective, and his admission that if he were to suddenly come under some sort of criminal indictment, or illness or some other issue, it would be her that he trusted with his home.

He was invested in her. As a Dominant, certainly, but also as a man. She didn’t just serve his sexual appetites, she served his social needs, and his emotional release. He was invested in Felicity and didn’t like the idea of risking that investment.

“Felicity…” he said, but decided not to say it. This was, after all, a job for her and not part of the agreement. “I’ll ask you again, just to be certain. This is an opportunity, but not the only one, for my ongoing game with the Detective. Are you interested in spending a night in submission to both Astrid and I, separate from whatever I might gain from it?”

Felicity smiled softly and kissed him. “I will submit, my dear,” she said. “As long as you are there, I’ll always trust you have my safety and pleasure in mind.”

He kissed her back. “Tonight, I think we relax,” he said when their lips finally parted. “No play. Tell me about how your thesis is coming along.”

Felicity smiled and rested her head against his shoulder again as they cuddled on the plush easy chair. It wasn’t the first time she’d spent telling him about her life - a taboo for most escort-client relationships, Marc was sure - and it wouldn’t be the last. It was these moments, these emotional payments, that built the trust he was finding he relied on more than he’d realised.

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