I needed to get out and think. The past few months had been difficult and I just wanted to get away from it all, be by myself, think, meditate, relax. The lake near our house is only a 15 minute walk away and the weather today was beautiful so it made sense to spend an hour or two there. It was a tranquil place, the lake was big, surrounded by colourful bushes and flowers and there were hardly ever any people around.

When I got to the lake, it glistened under the afternoon sun and a few butterflies danced around the flowers. I made myself comfortable on the dark green moss on the floor and closed my eyes. But soon enough, I was startled and opened my eyes as I heard a few splashes in the distance. I looked to see where it was coming from and made out two shapes in the lake a few hundred meters away. It looked like two young boys were out swimming. Great, I thought, the last thing I needed was noise. I decided to block the splashing noises and voices out and again closed my eyes. I made myself comfortable and bathed in the warm sunshine that caressed my legs. I was wearing a casual white dress which showed off my legs.

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The sun was hot, the sky blue. I was thousands of miles from my mundane existence in the city, busy schedules, rush hour traffic, men in suits and fax machines. I was glad I didn’t have anything to do or anywhere to rush off to. I was here, living the moment on this beautiful beach, watching the waves roll in and listening to the birds above. This was just what I had planned. To do absolutely nothing. The perfect single working woman holiday.  Well, I say nothing but I did have a night out planned this evening which I was looking forward to.

The bar was small but the décor was modern and very funky. Red and orange lights skimmed the walls and interesting looking palm tree like plants were placed in every corner. I made myself comfortable on a tall white bar stool and ordered a dry martini from a very attractive young girl in a tight fitting white dress.

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It’s late as I make my way to bed; I fall back into the soft pillows and pull the satin sheet up around my shoulders, shivering slightly as the satin tickles my skin. I lie awake for a few minutes before my tiredness takes me over and I fall into a deep sensual sleep… I awake up suddenly, I am lying face down on the bed, and something doesn’t quite feel right. I open my eyes, but I can’t see anything, I lie still for a moment. I suddenly realise I’ve been blindfolded and am tied up. My heart begins to race and I can feel it thumping away, I try to struggle free but my arms are tied securely above my head and my ankles too.

I lie silent for a while and listen but I don’t hear anything.

But then I remembered. The boy.

I told him about my ultimate fantasy on our last date. At first I was hesitant about telling him, worried he may think I was too much into kinky sex, but he didn’t say much and just smiled. Memories of the night came back to me instantly, the wine, the drunken kisses, stories of rope, blindfolds and handcuffs…

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The first thing he noticed was her perfume. The scent glides silently in his direction and settles close to him. He looks up and over and sees the woman sitting there. Beautiful. Dark red hair falling just past her shoulders, blue eyes and an incredible mouth. He gazes down at her legs. Just before he turns back to his work, his dark green eyes meet hers. He skims through the papers but doesn’t really see anything. Instead, his thoughts are with her, the attractive woman sitting close to him by the bar.

He turns his head to glance over again and lock eyes with her once more. They watch each other for a few seconds. Without breaking the connection, he closes his laptop and carries his empty glass over to the barstool occupied by the woman and orders another round for the two of them. The two of them continue to chat as strangers might. The time passes…minutes, an hour, and then two. Eventually, he’s talking and laughing as if he’s known her for years.  She’s been looking at the ring on his finger, wondering if it’s going to be a problem.

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The clients who come to me range from all types of different men, the boring, clueless-about-sex accountant types, the wild and adventurous men, the young 18 year old boys in their first year of university, and the list continues.

But most of my clients are married men. That’s the way it is.

Tonight I was expecting Mr X and his wife. This will be her first time with me; Mr X says she’s wanted to try this out for a long time and that it was her idea, little does she know Mr X has been coming to see me for the past five months. But I promised him I’d act as if it was our first night together and to show his wife a great time.

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