Chance Meeting - Part 1 (by Paladin)

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Chance Meeting Part One

“So is this the moment when you ask me if I want a drink or are you going to tell me that your wife doesn’t understand you?”

I smiled. The young blond, in the figure hugging little black dress, sitting alone at the bar had already sent two men scurrying off, the first with a cool glare that could have restored the polar ice-caps. The second had muttered something about bitches with attitudes before he’d headed off for easier hunting grounds.

“Actually I was hoping to gain the attention of the bartender who seems unhealthily fixated on your cleavage.”

The blond raised an eyebrow which sent the barely pubescent barman in my direction. 

“Talisker,’ I ordered, “two ice-cubes not an avalanche please.” I raised my glass in a mocking salute to the blond and she turned away. A pity, she really was very attractive. Still I wasn’t here to add to the misery of any already dull work related trip. At least the peat and smoke flavours of the whiskey could be relied upon to ease the end of a long day.

“You never answered my question.”

I turned and made sure to keep my eyes several points above her neckline. “Which question was that?”

She did the eyebrow again.

“Not married and I’m not really in the habit of forcing alcohol on unwilling young women.” I responded.

“I never said I was was unwilling,” she regarded me for a long moment. “So, divorced or simply unable to to commit because your male ego never allowed you to grow up?”

I sipped my drink, “separated, as for growing up well I wonder if any of us could make that claim. How about yourself; stood up, broken up or just out to make every male in town miserable?”

She laughed at that and it was a surprisingly pleasant sound. 

“Don’t you think they deserve it. Look at them, off on business and prowling the bars ready to jump anything with breasts and a pulse.”

“And for many the pulse would be optional,” I added.

She smiled at that. “And you?”

“I prefer a pulse. I’m old fashioned like that.” I took another sip, “not that I’m looking for anything like that.” Turning back to the bar I could feel her eyes burning into the back of my neck. Her defences were highly attuned to dealing with being ogled and pawed, being dismissed wasn’t so easy to ignore. 

“Really, so you’re different are you?” I could almost feel the sarcasm level in the room rising.

I shrugged but didn’t turn back. “Never said that. I just said that what I’m looking for is something different.”

I counted silently to ten before looking up at the mirror behind the bar. Her stare had moved from openly hostile to appraising with a slight tinge of curiosity. 

“So what’s different consist of?”

I turned to look at her again, “hmm?”

She slipped off her stool and made a slight adjustment to the hem of her dress, giving me time to admire the smooth line of her legs. She moved closer and sat on he stool next to mine. She leant in and I had to remind myself that I was supposed to be looking at her face. 

“All right I’ll admit I’m curious, what’s different about you?”

I took another sip and this time deliberately let my gaze move slowly, down the line of her neck, taking in the athletic strength of her shoulders, then the obvious but delightful curves down to her narrow waist. When I looked back up she met my eyes with a challenging stare.

“I’ll answer your question in two parts, how I judge your reaction to the first part will determine if I tell you the second.”

“So much mystery,” she gently mocked but I could see she was becoming hooked.

I hadn’t really intended looking for anything like this on this trip but she’d almost fallen into my lap, so to speak and the sheer amount of defensiveness and hostility actually made her an easier target.

“All right part one. My preference is for unique, strong women and by that I don’t mean muscle bound. I appreciate strength of character as much as an athletic build. Take yourself for example, most people see that you’re physically attractive but how many notice the tone in your muscles and realise that you care for your overall health not just your looks.” 

The blond gave me a genuine smile and not just because I’d said she was attractive but because I’d indicated that there was much more depth to her personality. I was indicating that she stood out from the majority of people.

Before she could comment I raised a hand. “When I can I like to wrestle with women like you.”

A slight frown crossed her forehead, clearly it was not something she was expecting to here.

“I did say that this was something only unique women enjoy.” There, I’d baited the hook. Would her pride push her forward?

She took a sip of the last of her wine. I waved the bartender over and signalled a refill for us both. He gave me a far more respectful look this time. If only he knew the truth. 

“By wrestling you mean?”

“Playful fighting, no hitting or violence, ending in a pin where the winner sits on top of the loser.”

“Do you have to be naked?”

I chuckled, “it’s not a prerequisite, certainly I’m not aware of any international rules that say you have to be.”

She raised her wine glass and peered at me over the rim. “So what separates the women who like to wrestle from those that don’t?”

“Confidence and playfulness but mostly I look for a spark of fire in the eyes that tells me I’ve found the right person.”

She sipped her wine, “do I have that spark?”

Gently I reached out and cupped her chin, she didn’t pull away. “I think you cover it up because it makes others jealous but yes you have it.”

She blushed, pleased that I could see in her something she herself wasn’t sure she had. All of us have that need, that desire for another to see something special in us. It’s a powerful desire that when used positively can drive people to do their best but at it’s worst it can eat a person from the inside. 

I wasn’t trying to deliberately manipulate her, rather it was more like a screening process I’d developed over the years. I released her chin, my fingers slipping slowly away, caressing her the tender skin along her jawline.

“What is the second part?” she asked, her voice a little more husky now.

I sipped at my whiskey, considering her request. “I think I can tell you but I must start by saying that most people tend to wander through a rather vanilla life without even noticing the myriad of other shades that lie alongside.”

“I’m not most people” She interjected.

“Maybe not but perhaps what I would be suggesting is a bit beyond what you are ready to cope with.”

Her eyes flashed and she drew in a deep breath. I smiled she was already prepared to fight for her newly found sense of herself. 

“I can cope with anything you can throw at me,” she growled.

“Really?” I asked. “How do you feel about wrestling me?”

She paused, then grinned, “I reckon I could take you.”

I smiled and swirled the ice in my glass. Well this was compressing things quite a bit but why not. I hadn’t planned for this, so if it didn’t work out I hadn’t lost anything. I nodded and considered what I would say.

“When I find a really exceptional woman with the perfect balance of strength, fun and fire I like to go beyond wrestling. I like to ride her, on all fours preferably. I challenge her to unseat me while I try to break her will and make her submit to my domination.” I leant back and took a long drink, “you did ask,” I told her when I put the glass down.

She took a long sip of her own, then faced me directly. “That’s pretty strange.” she commented. I shrugged but didn’t reply. “I think I could carry you, at least for a while,” she added. “Do some girls enjoy it?”

“Some love it.”

She turned letting her gaze move across the room. I could see she was weighing up the prospect of an evening turning down business men growing steadily more intoxicated, going home or trying something new and strange and oddly thrilling to even think about.

“Where would we do this?” She asked it quickly as if getting it out in the open before she could change her mind.

“I have just the right place in mind, shall we?” I offered my arm and she accepted.

“You’re oddly old fashioned at times aren’t you?”

“Someone has to be,” I replied. It looked as though this night could be well worth remembering.    

I led her out of the bar, ignoring the looks of the other patrons and focusing on the soft touch of her fingers on my wrist and the sway of her hips against mine as we threaded out way between the tables.

We reached the lobby and crossed to the elevators. I turned her and slid my hand across her hip and around to the small of her back. “Kiss me,” I told her.

“What?” she leant back slightly

“Kiss me,” I repeated firmly.

“Why?”

“I want everyone in that room to see that you're my property.”

She blinked at that then kissed my cheek. She slowly kissed her way along my jawline while I kept my gaze focused on the bar. “Are they watching?” she whispered. She reached my lips. 

“You’re destroying them with jealousy,” I murmured. I pulled her closer to me, crushing her lips with mine until the elevator chimed. As we stepped inside she laughed, “that was so much fun.”

The doors closed. I turned to face her, “get down on all fours I told her.”

“Now?”

I nodded and she slowly got down on all fours. I happily admired the way her little black dress tightened around her backside. I pressed a button and stepped over her body. I could see she was carefully trying to watch me. “Keep looking forward,” I told her and she did. I slowly lowered my weight onto her back as the elevator chimed past the first floor.

I paused with about 50% of my weight braced by my legs and the rest across her hips. I could hear her breathing quicken and this excited me even more than the kiss had. I deliberately slid forward, lowering all of my weight as I moved into the natural curve of her back. I felt her shoulders brace against my forward motion. Third floor.

“That’s all my weight,”

“Mmmph,” she replied.

As we passed through 4 and 5 I deliberately moved around on her back, finding that perfect spot. My blond said nothing until comfortable and with my feet completely off the floor I reached out and took her long hair up in one hand.

“You’re not going to mess my hair up are you?”

I laughed. “You’re in an elevator, on all fours with a man you barely know sitting astride your back and you’re worried about your hair being messed up?”

It took a moment for that to sink in and then she began to laugh softly. Her back bounced ever so slightly under me. It was a lovely sensation that sent little trickles of pleasure up my spine. 

She stopped laughing which was a shame as it was a lovely sensation. “What happens if the doors open and someone’s there?”

I shrugged, “they either come in or wait for the next elevator I suppose.”

“You don’t get off?”

“No.”

She shifted a little as that idea also sunk in. I glanced up at the panel and realised we were nearly at the top floor. Most of the guests were aware of the roof-top gym and no doubt quite a few had tried out the yoga/pilates classes but very few would bother to go up there at night. I had gone up there last night and wasn’t too surprised to find that in these fine summer nights the gym mats were left out.

The doors slid open and I gave her a light kick with my heels. She reacted as if this was perfectly normal and carried me smoothly out of the elevator and on to the astroturf they’d used to make the roof look less like a stark, concrete wasteland.

She hesitated and I kicked her again, a little harder this time. She moved forward and I began to use her hair to guide her towards the gym mats. “You really do use my hair as reins?” She sounded surprised.

I smiled and drew her hair back. She came to a halt so quickly that I began to think I’d found a natural pony girl. I dismounted and she waited on all fours.

“Stand up”

She did and looked around. The city scape around us at night was beautiful but I didn’t want her to break her concentration. 

“Look at me.” She did and smiled. “Was I too heavy?” I asked.

“No actually. Was I good at it, was I, you know?”

“Surprisingly good. I haven’t even met many professional pony girls who so instinctively know what to do.”

She grinned at the compliment.

“Take your dress off.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Unless you intend to wrestle me in it,” I clarified.

“Oh,” she wriggled out of her dress, taking long enough to be sure I was watching as the tight material slowly slipped down her body. I’d been right about the tone of her muscles and the sight of her lovely curves, accentuated by her simple black lingerie, eclipsed the skyline.

She stood before me with her hands on her hips, “aren’t you going to take something off?”

I raised an eyebrow, “what would you like me to take off?”

She sauntered closer and began slowly undoing my shirt buttons. My blond slid her hands over my shoulders and my shirt dropped to the floor. The warm night air pressed against my chest but my attention was focused on her hands as they slipped down to my belt. She kissed my chest and slowly dropped to her knees. 

Within moments my shoes and trousers were lying beside my shirt and the night air had grown considerably warmer. 

“The rules,” I began once she had stood up, “are simple. We wrestle until one person is sitting on top of the other. After a count of ten the person on the bottom is pinned and has lost that round. We will wrestle for the best out of eleven.”

“What happens then?” her breathing was quicker and her chest swelled enticingly with each breath.

“The winner claims the loser as their pony and can ride them as they want.”

She licked her lips nervously.

“You’ve already been extremely brave.”

She smiled.

“Think about how you feel right now. Think about how fast you’re breathing, how hard your heart is thumping. Your skin is tingling with adrenaline. When was the last time you felt like this? Do you really want to let that feeling go now?”

She stepped onto the mat, facing me and swept her long blond hair back over her shoulders. She took a deep breath. “Pin me if you can,” she challenged.

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