Chapter One

The brilliant white headlights from Evelyn's Jaguar cut through the darkness as she drove through the night. Her only companion on this cold night was a single red rose, which sat on the passenger seat. Her knuckles were tight, as her nervous fingers gripped the leather-covered steering wheel.

Her sumptuous, silk stockinged, thighs rubbed together pleasingly as she changed gears. Wearing silk stockings had always aroused her. The tightness of the darker band at the top of her thigh and the way it hugged her securely made her legs feel lovingly restrained, making her whole body pulse and tingle with excitement.

It had been twelve months to the day since she had last met with her clandestine lover. The tension that was coiled within her was beginning to show as she neared her destination. She checked her clothing for the thousandth time, since getting dressed that afternoon.

Peter's instructions had been precise, what to wear, and when to change into it. This had done nothing to help her nervousness and anticipation of their meeting.

Peter was a stickler for detail, and she found it easy to comply with his dress code. Her crisp white, linen blouse and smart black A-line skirt did not look out of place from her normal office attire. For many years now, she had worn

stockings and garter belt, so that was not unusual either. Late in the afternoon, she had changed into the final items. These she only wore on this day of the year now. Their touch on her skin felt unusual now, yet strangely comforting.

She squirmed against the Jaguar's leather seat, as the chain caressed her intimately. She looked at the amber lighted digital clock. She looked at the mileage counter willing it to speed up. Time passed incredibly slowly making her feel like a small child on her way to the seaside; constantly asking are we there yet?

Her mind drifted back over the challenging day she had spent at the office and the assortment of problems she had tackled. She contemplated the duality of her nature, her assertiveness in the office and the passivity when she was with Peter. She drew similar parallels between Peter and James, the two men she loved, but who were so different.

This early evening meeting had been her main focus for the past week and she had hardly been able to think of anything else. As the amber digits ticked relentlessly by, and she neared her destination the tension she felt rose to a crescendo.

As she drove, Evelyn went through her mental checklist. Had she dressed correctly? Was she fully prepared? God she hoped so. Peter had always been a stickler for detail and would notice a hair out of place. Yet again, as she went through her cerebral preparations, she felt a moistness, a liquid glow, like her very core was melting and with these feelings of desire, came a gut wrenching pang of guilt.

Suddenly a cold rush, swept over her. How could she betray her husband? How could she be unfaithful to such a good man, for this one night of passion? With a lump in her throat, she thought of James, and their three-year marriage and the vows she was breaking. Yet tonight, as she had done for the past four years, she would give herself totally to Peter and nothing on earth could or would stop her from making that rendezvous.

She loved James dearly. Their three-year marriage was a happy one. James was a good man, a loving and caring partner. He was a very straightforward man, uncomplicated. He was the type that if he said something, you knew he meant it. If he promised to do something, he would do it. She loved James for all that he was, yet there was one thing he was not, and could never be. He was not her Master. She had only ever had one Master. Peter.

Her love for Peter was not the same as her love for James. She loved James with her heart but Peter she loved with her very soul.

The one thing that had united her two lovers was their love for her, but the two men in her life were entirety different in nature and temperament. There was a hard edge to Peter, something uncompromising. He had a natural authority about him. He was and always had been every inch the man in control.

The flash of a rabbit darting across the road brought her back to the here and now. The rumble of the tires on asphalt lulled her back to her thoughts.

Evelyn had been married to Peter when she had met James. She had known James for years before she had married him and until then had always thought of him as a good friend. Their three-year marriage had only deepened her feelings for James.

James was altogether softer and a much more tender person, a man that loved her unconditionally just as she was. In return, she loved him. She knew he loved every inch of her soft rounded body, by the attention he lavished upon her. Yet, he was not a demanding man. He always put her needs first, which was very nice, though slightly irritating at times, as she much preferred assertive men.

Her mother had described him once as "Low maintenance" He was a man that despite her flaws would always be there for her. Making love to James, was soft and tender, he never neglected any morsel of her. His tastes though were pure

vanilla, missionary with the occasional oral gratification, which he was happy to reciprocate.

They first met at work. James worked in the same office block as she did, though not for the same firm, and their lunch hours had coincided. She soon came to think of him, as the big brother she had never had. Their shared lunches had been a pleasant thing to look forward to each day. They laughed freely over a coffee and sandwiches for years. That had been a happy time, which she always looked back on with fondness.

Then there was a time when they no longer met for lunch. Dark Clouds had descended in her life. It had been a bleak and stormy time, and Evelyn had retreated to a place deep within herself. It had been a time when there was no light in the day, a time when she had wanted to die. A time when she had been a soulless shell. It was in this that depth of despair that James had found her. He had breathed life into her again, bringing her back from the edge. He had brought her back into the light, helping her to see the joy of the new day and helping her to laugh again. That was four years ago now.

The engine growled and Evelyn changed to a lower gear, as the road became more winding. She knew she was close to her destination now and she felt the pang of hunger in her stomach and the all too familiar ache between her thighs. She could not wait to be with Peter.

Peter, had been and still was, her passion. Evelyn had known him for what had seemed like forever. She had known him for years before she had ever met James. Theirs had been a whirlwind romance, flowers, candle light dinners, moon light trysts. As their relationship deepened Peter's nature and his strength came to the fore. Evelyn swallowed, as she heard the words in her head "Love, honor, and obey."

Evelyn had been brought up to believe in sexual equality, and she did believe, but there had been something missing in her life when she met Peter. From the very start, there was a power with Peter, not a menacing power to be sure, but an authority. This was not a simple macho manifestation, but a deep-rooted natural power, a light that drew Evelyn like a moth to a flame.

It had started easily enough at an electronics trade show, she was there as the personal assistant for a corporate buyer. The meetings that she had attended had finished and she was free to browse around the exhibition. She looked around curiously although in truth electronic gadgets left her a bit cold. Across the room, she saw Peter. Their eyes met and there was an instant connection. There was a delicious flirtation as they played from across the room. Eventually Evelyn made her way to the stand where Peter was giving a demonstration of a highly complicated piece of equipment. The customer moved on, Peter stepped up to Evelyn and introduced himself. His smile that day would be burned into her memory for all eternity.

Evelyn's partners before Peter had been few. In those days of stick thin models, not everyone appreciated her fuller figure. Those who had, had left her feeling unfulfilled and that sex was overrated. The early dates and dinners with Peter were much like those she'd had in the past, with the exception that Peter had not pounced on her at the end of the first date. A simple tender kiss had sufficed at the end of the date. In fact, after the third date she had begun to worry that Peter was not as attracted to her as she was to him and it had been Evelyn that made the first move.

After dinner, she had invited him back for coffee. He browsed her CD collection as she rattled coffee cups in the kitchen. She asked him how he liked his coffee; he replied strong, black and no sugar.

Evelyn returned with a tray, with cups and a cafe tire. They sipped coffee for a while. Peter looked totally at ease as he sat on the couch. Evelyn, by contrast was nervous and fidgeting. What was he waiting for? Surly he could see she wanted him, yet there he sat, pleasantly smiling and making small talk. She flirted with him, trying to add suggestive snippets like, "I have always been into bedroom design, it allows you to express

yourself," into the conversation. She had expected a response like "I would be interested to see how you have decorated yours." However, no such response had been forthcoming.

It was obvious to her that Peter was interested, yet he took none of the opportunities to follow up with a suggestive comment of his own. The attraction was obvious yet he did not make a move.

They finished the coffee and she felt it was now or never. She wanted Peter and she knew that Peter wanted her. With a tremble in her voice, she said, "I would like you to stay."

"I would like that very much," he answered, his tone warm, yet authoritative. His tone made her tingle.

"Shall I slip into something more comfortable?" There was a noticeable quaver in her voice.

"I think you are fine as you are." There was something in Peter's voice that put him firmly in control. "I would like you to stand." The politeness in his request did not hide the fact that it was an instruction.

She smiled and stood, a little shakily. She had always been a little self-conscious about her body. Her teenage years had done nothing for her self-esteem. Back then, she had dreaded going to the swimming pool, even though she loved the water and loved to swim. In a swimsuit, she had felt so exposed, vulnerable, and very aware that her body was not the type found in the glossy teen magazines. As a teenager thoughts of communal showers with the other girls, had made her feel physically sick. Many nights she had cried herself to sleep, dreaming of the sylph like body she would never have. The cruel jibes made her frustrated and angry.

This was before therapy. During the many hours of therapy, she had come to realize her size 18 dress size was not at all abnormal and her Monroe like curves were not bad although they simply did not comply to the stereotypical pencil thin models in Vogue.

Yet even with her new layer of confidence, there was a tingle of apprehension that climbed up her spine, as the fear of being judged reasserted itself.

She looked at Peter, who was passively, yet happily, looking at her. Her confidence grew again, as she contemplated her own figure. She was well proportioned, her figure resembling an hourglass. She had always been proud of her trim well-turned ankles and shapely calves.

She loved the curve of her hips and the swell of her bottom that had attracted more than one wolf whistle from construction sites. It was her ample breasts that seemed to attract most men though. She had no need of silicone, her breasts were totally natural and they were still firm at 30. Sure, there were things she would change if she had a magic wand. She would wish away an inch or so from her upper thighs, maybe tighten and tone in the odd area, but there would be no going under the surgeon's knife for her.

As Evelyn stood before Peter, she assessed her own looks, more critically than any partner would. She looked at Peter, trying to read his mind. What was he thinking? She felt more than a little self-conscious. It was like stripping away the therapy sessions and going back to her days at school. She felt the weight of her nerves once more. Confidence ebbed and flowed, like breakers on the shore.

She looked to Peter for reassurance. As she looked more deeply into Peter's eyes, she bathed in the warmth of his smile. She could plainly see now, that far from judging her, he looked more like he was about to eat her up. She wondered if he knew that she could see a flick of tongue as he licked his lips. He looked as if he planned to devourer her, and she hoped to God that he was going to do it soon.

She became less self aware as she turned her attentions to him. She felt drawn to his handsomely rugged features. He looked impressively strong and she wondered how his body would feel pressed hard against her.

Evelyn was hungry and she wanted Peter. The wait was making her feel impatient. The anticipation was torture, the tension building, making her want to scream, if only inside.

Her eyes had been fixed on his intense gaze, and suddenly her attention switched back to herself. She was standing there like a schoolgirl. She found herself fidgeting, smoothing her skirt to remove the creases that didn't exist; she looked at herself fiddling with the buttons on her cuffs, then played with her hair nervously and smiled at him. Yet now, in a strange way, she was beginning to enjoy this feeling of unease. In fact, she found this to be a big part of this brand new experience.

Her reflection was interrupted by Peter, "I like things a certain way, I hope you don't mind." Peter was calm and sat still, totally relaxed with the situation, a smile playing across his lips, "I have a feeling that you and I are very compatible."