Page 8 of The Facilitator: Part 2
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Mackenzie wasthe chef and I was more than happy to sit back and watch him at work. He had a kitchen of high-tech gadgets that he worked like a pro. I smiled and silently chuckled at the caress of a stainless steel mixer as he whipped up hummus and sliced carrots. He placed those on the kitchen island, and before I could pick up a carrot stick, he dipped his finger in—using his other hand to cup my chin—and pressed his finger against my lips until I opened my mouth. I sucked the hummus from hisskin.
“I think those lips look better around my cock,” he whispered, as he brought his face close tomine.
“I’m sure they do, but right now, they and the body attached to them, are hungry,” Ireplied.
He gave me a wink before returning to his domain. For his complicated life and ways, Mackenzie was a very simple eater. Within a half hour, he served a rare steak with a salad accompanied by a homemade dressing. He sat beside me, and as we ate, he asked me about my day. We chatted for a little while about work until the food was eaten. From that moment, all talk of work was to end. It was a rule he’d put in place when I’d moved in with him, otherwise he would spend all day and all evening, even well into the night on his laptop. I wasn’t sure he’d manage to keep up with it, of course. I wouldn’t blame him if he popped online at some point. He had business in the U.S. that needed taking care of, and as much as there was a short amount of time when the clocks aligned, I could see the temptation for him to head to his home officesometimes.
“I think I might need to start using some of that fancy gym equipment you have if I keep eating like that,” I said, rubbing mystomach.
“I have other ideas for the gym equipment, although I suspect that will also keep youfit.”
Mackenzie had a look of ‘naughty’ on his face. He reached out and took hold of my hand, encouraging me to stand. Without a word, he walked me to the door in the hall that would lead down to the basementgym.
“You know, there is no need for the club or implements designed to spank or tease. It’s all here,” hesaid.
“But I like theclub.”
“And we shall return, soon. But for now…” He reached over to open the door and then stepped back to allow me to walk down the stairsfirst.
Each light positioned beside the treads of the stairs illuminated, some flickered, lighting the way as I descended. My heart sped up a little, and I was unsure what to expect. Had Mackenzie had the room redesigned? It had been a light-hearted conversation we’d hadonce.
As I took the last step down, the room lit up. Nothing had changed. To one side was the weight bench, the yoga mats on the floor. The Smith machine stood shining in the opposite corner. However, it was as I studied each piece of equipment I started to smile. I could feel Mackenzie directly behind me. He didn’t touch me, but I could feel his breath on the back of my neck as he leaned inclose.
“Do you see it, Lauren? Do you see all the places I could fuck you, I could restrain you?” he whispered, as his lips brushed against my skin just under my ear, Ishivered.
“Do you see the hooks and pulleys, the bars that could hold your ankles or yourwrists?”
I gently nodded. I could see itall.
“Do you smell the leather under your naked body? Do you feel the chill of the air whisper against your skin?” I could feel his body pinned against mine, his rigid cock pressed into my lowerback.
I lifted my gaze to a rack on a wall. It held skipping ropes, bandages to support wrists and tape up hands, and what looked like duct tape, to support muscles, was stacked in colour order. I saw restraints. As much as I wanted to continue to feel his breath on my skin, I silently walked towards that rack. I picked up a roll of tape. I looked to myleft.
A black leather weight bench was calling to me. I walked over and stood with my hands behind my back, still holding the tape. I heard his footsteps on the tiled floor. The hair on my arms rose in anticipation, my stomach knotted gently, and my breath caught in my throat as I felt him take the tape from myhand.
The crackle sound as he ripped the material from the second layer caused my core totighten.
The pinch of tape around my wrists was welcomed. As was the palm placed between my shoulder blades that encouraged me forward. Mackenzie supported my body as I lowered my chest to thebench.
“Keep your legs straight, Lauren,” hewhispered.
It wasn’t the most comfortable position to be in. I was bent over at the waist, legs spread to support myself, and my cheek pressed to the soft leather. I inhaled the slightly chemical scent the bench had previously been cleanedwith.
I felt Mackenzie’s hands at either side of my hips. They slid down to the hem of my skirt, gently pulling it to my waist and his hands moved back up my thighs. He bunched my skirt at my waist. The trail of his fingertips over my backside and down the back of my thighs brought goose bumps to my skin. The circular motion he made across my arse cheeks sent shivers throughme.
“I think we need to lose these,” hewhispered.
Mackenzie had no choice, I guessed, but to push his fingers through the delicate lace of my panties; he could hardly roll them down my legs for removal. I hissed out through clenched teeth as his fingers swiped over myopening.
“So wet,” hewhispered.
He sighed as the material of my panties stopped him trailing fartherup.
“This is no good,” I heard him say under his breath. Before I could speak he had torn the panties at the side. It unbalanced me a little. The ruined material then slid down one leg. “Muchbetter.”
His fingers swiped back over my opening, dragging the wetness up and over my arse, lubricating me. My legs shook ever so slightly with anticipation. For as much as I said ‘never’ would my arse be fucked, the thought of his fingers in the one place I viewed as the most naughty had me desperate for him. If it would have had the desired effect, I would have pushed my arse back towards him, but I’d already learned, there was no rushingMackenzie.
