By the time we get to the restaurant my pants strain against my trousers. There is less room in the crotch area. I revel in the discomfort. Anderson is so undone that he parks the bike like a virgin rider, the tires wobble back and forth between his legs. I take the time to lean forward and nip his earlobe with my teeth. He swings one leg over the seat, swaying to his feet.
"Anderson, you look pale." I state, taking pleasure in the way he gasps for air. Dearest John you are my top and I am your bottom, but the thought of screwing Anderson into the mattress until he begs for mercy appeals to me. I learned a great deal from Ms. Alder and I could have Anderson begging me to beat him to a jelly if I wished. I look into his face. His eyes are clouded with lust and something else. Hope. I don't have to strip the layers of his soul. I know he is in love with me. Your residual of humanity makes me feel a twinge of guilt, John. I am frustrated for I had intended to torture Anderson like a prey animal. But his eyes are not to the side of his head. They are facing front like mine. I am confused. Who is the prey, myself or Anderson?
We approach the front of the club. Anderson takes my hand and leads me around back. "I know you wouldn't want to be seen with me so I arranged for us to go through the side door." Anderson says smiling sideways at me. I blush, feeling the heat of his words.
We enter the club and as we do, Anderson releases my hand. I feel empty and free all at the same time. To keep myself centered I observe the inside of the establishment. The room is immersed in blue lights of differing hues. It is meant to simulate an underwater paradise. Ocean scenes are video mapped on the walls, as a bubble machine disperses tiny orbs of simulated oxygen into the air. It is quite spectacular. Anderson gauges my expression as we are led to our table.
Once we are seated he turns to me. "It's wonderful isn't it?"
I yawn. "Yes, if one likes cheap theatrics."
Anderson takes shelter behind his menu. I pounce on him like a tiger. "I mean this place looks expensive and it's not as if you're going to get lucky. You're a fool, Anderson."
Anderson leans forward and plays with a lock of my hair. "Fools rush in, Sherlock, don't they? I may be a fool but I am not a scared angel. I tread where I want and hope for the best."
I open my mouth to reply, but clamp it shut when our waiter arrives. After placing our order, I lock eyes with Anderson's. His pupils are expanded, making his eyes look black. Just like mine. We stare at each other until our drinks arrive. I purposely order a drink with a cherry in it. Anderson watches as I pluck the plump, processed red fruit into my mouth. His hands tremble as I make a show of licking it.
Knowing that I have his full attention, I slowly take the cherry out of my mouth letting it drag along my lower lip. I smirk when Anderson jumps as it makes a plopping sound coming out. My lips curve up in a wicked smile as I take the straw from my drink and attach the cherry to the end. I scoot over to Anderson smile again, plunging the sex toy I have made down his back, pausing past the band of his pants. Anderson swallows, his breathing is coming out in short pants. Without mercy, I pulse the cherry between his cheeks.
Anderson's hips shoot off the seat. "Jesus, Sherlock, you're going to make me come."
I gasp, jerking the straw back. "Hmm, where is the cherry? I must find it." Anderson's face flushes first then it turns white as my fingers search for the cherry. "Ah, there it is," I say as I pull the cherry back and pop it into my mouth.
Anderson doesn't reply. I hold back my laughter when I see him squirming. With all the cunning of a true predator, I slip my shoe off and press the heel of my foot between his legs. It's a good thing the music is loud for it covers Anderson's whimpering. The muscles in his neck tighten then his body goes limp.
"Ah victory is so sweet," I think as I grind my toes causing the moisture in Anderson's pants to fan out to his trousers. I duck under the table to observe my handy work. I smile at the wet spot that winks back at me.
Feeling embarrassed Anderson shuts his legs. I pry them open, none too gently. I sit up and smell my hand. "Anderson, your scent is delightful."
Anderson's looks like a slaughtered pig, his eyes wide and rolling, his mouth open gasping for air. "It's almost as if I've choked him." I speculate on this for a moment or two, getting hard at the thought of his life in my hands.
When the waiter finally arrives with our food Anderson picks at his meal. I smile. I have won. I have rendered him speechless. I observe his pale white fingers as he plucks at some sort of fried stick things. His soulful blue eyes meet mine. When he realizes my attention is focused on him his face lights up in a smile. It's as if the sun has finally decided to shine upon him after a long, cold winter. I am taken back as a twinge of emotion batters at the glacier of emotions I have kept bottled up inside me. I must not thaw, not here, not now.
"Hurry up and finish your food," I snap surprised at the level of aggravation in the tone of my voice.
When we reach the bike, I grab the keys away from him. "I'm driving back to the flat," I say.
Anderson hands them over without a fight. The ride back is dangerous and wild. I take risks. I expect Anderson to dig his hands into me, pinch my nipples or scream at me to stop. He does none of these things. His arms gently encircle my waist and he burrows his head into my neck, much like Redbeard would do at a trip to the vet. Against my will I am touched.
The bike skids to a stop and I wrench the helmet off my head and shove it into Anderson's hands. He is sure to be angry now. He just looks at me, smiles and kisses the side of my cheek. "Thanks for going out with me tonight, Sherlock. I had a wonderful time."
It is starting to rain and Anderson begins to shiver as the rain pelts through his thin jacket. He looks bedraggled, in need of protection. "Come in and get some tea," I order.
Mrs. Hudson becomes all mother hen as soon as she sets eyes on Anderson's state. "Sherlock, what have you been doing? Shame on you for treating your friends so."
I start to refute her use of 'friend' then stop when I observe Anderson looking up at me. Mrs. Hudson puts a kettle on, speculatively watching us watch each other. She raises an eyebrow then leaves the room.
I wait for Anderson to finish his tea. As soon as the cup hits the saucer I speak. "Get upstairs, now."
Without question Anderson does my bidding. In the bedroom I order him to strip. He stands before me naked. Why do I feel so vulnerable when he is the one shivering in front of me without a stitch of clothing?
I grab his chin. "To quote the immortal Mr. Spock, Anderson, 'After a time, you may find that having is not the same as wanting. It is not logical, but it is often true.' Now get ready it's going to be a long night."
