A Gift

The unseasonable warmth of the Spring night was a welcomed change. Even if the nights were still a little long for her liking, it meant that warmer days were ahead. There was something in the air tonight. A spring change? No. A smile flirted with the corners of her mouth. But it wasn't the thought of seasons that were to blame. Not even close. She was nearly ready, having just slipped on her heels, and put one last coat of lipstick on. It was a certain someone's favourite shade of red.

A recent message from that certain someone, had caused a last-minute change in attire. So, thrown across her reading chair went her comfy pants, button-down shirt and her favourite scarf (of a certain colour). Her comfy brown loafers were tossed back into the cupboard. Apparently, there was to be no light meal, then dessert on the lounge, tonight. Now it was black, all black, and heels, with a splash of red. On had gone her black wig, with a full blunt fringe, that hadn't seen the light of day since a night, almost a year ago, when mischief was eagerly sort and easily found.

Realising she had been waiting for a car horn that, at this time of night, wouldn't be coming, made her dash. She quickly grabbed her coat (black) and her small clutch (basically black), and skedaddled out of her room, and out of her apartment, and into the beginnings of her night, which she still didn't quite know what to expect.

She quietly opened the apartment block's security door, and stepping though it, waited those few moments to hear its close and lock securely behind her. She stepped onto the landing. The light above her caused her to be standing in a ring of white light, in a night of much darker light. There was a row of lights in front of her, running along the footpath toward the road, but many of them were out, making the snaking path look much more uneven than it really was.

Now that she was outside, she could feel the there was still some crispness in the night, that made her shiver. But, she had reason to barely notice or care, as her attention was drawn to the low rumbling of the car parked out front. It was black, but there was a street-light across the road, that shone in the windows and almost directly over the driver, that encircled them in a similar, and almost ethereal circle of light. It made her heart skip. And she could see, (well, she couldn't see clearly, she assumed and knew), that there in the car, was the warm, glint of a smile, welcoming and waiting for her arrival. If it wasn't for the teetering heels, she would have skipped, eagerly down the path. But she was a little more cautious, in the dark, and so high heeled. And she took the opportunity to sashay just a little as she approached the car. Then she really could see the beaming smile of the driver.

The driver had leaned over, and pushed the door open to welcome her. A moment between them shared, before she crossed the threshold of the car.

"Hello, Beautiful," purred the voice of the driver.

"Hello, Beautiful," she purred, in return. She leaned over and left her cool red lips against the warm red lips of the driver. The driver wore a darker shade of red, but they both imagined their reds mixing and melding in that warm, passionate welcome kiss.

The driver's eyes sparkled in mischief, as she opened her heavy (black) coat to display her full breast and erect nipple, "You're late. But it seems I've decided to forgive you."

A muffled growl from the back seat of the car, had the two women turn their heads.

And there, a man. His age was indeterminable, behind a silky gag and blindfold that covered much of his face, sitting in the darkness of the night and the darkness of the back of the car. But his firm, nubile musculature betrayed at least an age ... range. His wrists had been restrained against thighs, with tightly wrapped shibari rope. Elegantly done, and there was one in the car, who was particularly skilled at rope. Apart from the rope, the gag, and a blindfold, he was naked. He wriggled against the back seat, and his restraints, and uttered again that low groan, that emanated from low in his chest.

The two in the front of the car shared a grin that spoke volumes, spoke of mischief, and spoke of shared lust and fantasies. The joy they brought each other was something else.

She turned back to the gift, "And what might your name be?" she asked, in a low husky voice. She didn't care not for his name right then, but rather to confirm that little could escape his lips, as much as he could escape from his binds.

He moaned, and the two women watched as his cock thickened and grew against his bare thigh, as he muffled something incomprehensible.

The driver raised her eyebrow, in question.

And she returned delight, tenfold. What a gift she had been brought.

"His name is Matthias," the driver whispered, against the flushed cheek of her dearest friend.

"Thank you, Beautiful, he is perfect! But, what are you waiting for? Let's go!"

In a squeal of high-spirited laughs, red lipstick, and smoking wheels, they quickly drove off into the inky blackness of the night.