The White Rabbit

Author's Note: This is dedicated to a woman whom I would have given everything to. She eluded my grasp and became my infamous, "White Rabbit". She has moved on since our youth, and while we never slept together, this what I would have imagined it would have been like. The names have been changed and little detail provided about the city. Thank you, Rabbit. For you always pushed me towards my dreams of being a writer and a better person. This is a homage to you.

This is my first submission of any kind anywhere, so please be honest and I will work towards making it "more perfect". I am a perfectionist and I will do my best to make it worth while.

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It was an autumn day. Like any other amid the myriad of dreary days of October, but that was my month. It was my greatest sense of pride in the universe. Like any nineteen year old, I felt like I was on top of the world. My form was lean from the work I did as a construction worker. The hours were grueling but the labor kept me fit and trim. My long dark hair often pulled back in to a half-pony to keep it from out of my eyes. My skin was well-tanned and dark from the sun's bright rays from the past summer. It was to my surprise, that I did meet you through a mutual friend.

I remember the first time I met you. You struck me as a beguiling creature. While you were pensive, your own brown hair reminding me of a dying day. Your face, while pale, had almost systematic freckles upon your cheeks and your laughter was rather unnerving. I rather hated your laughter, but enjoyed your presence. Your hair was medium length at the time, just past your shoulders. Your form was supple and toned. I do believe, for me, it was love at first sight. What really got me interested in you, was the way you carried yourself, as if your demeanor was better than everyone else's. I do so enjoy the thrill of a challenge.

It was during dinner at a local diner, sitting in the back and at twelve o'clock in the morning, discussing our lives and high schools and relationships with our mutual friend, Tanya. She was dreary and delightfully morbid, but that was my taste in personality. I have a dark sense of humor and I could see that sometimes you would stifle a giggle at my jokes, and occasionally butt in with smart remark, tempting me in a way to smite you with violent words and a razor sharp tongue.

The dinner went rather well, we drank coffee. Mine especially creamed and sugared. You, I noted, enjoyed it black with little sweetener. A bold choice, I thought to myself. A bold choice indeed. With the night winding down from laughter and red cheeks from sleep deprivation, it was then you struck me with your words. I was apprehensive to reply, and kept my mouth shut. What exactly you said, I no longer remember, as the years have taken their toll on my memory, as I write these memoirs. However, it was at that exact moment, that our relationship, if you will, began. One of love and hate, beguile and trickery. You would later describe our conversations as mental games of chess, and I don't believe there ever was a winner in those constant struggles.

The next day, if I recall correctly, you came to my house. I was renting the house for a reasonable fee, and it was much too large for just myself. A three bedroom, one bathroom, mansion for a single bachelor with no kids. It was rather enjoyable. With you as always was Tanya. Though, I could tell from her stature that she did not want you around me. Whether it was out of protective instinct for you or for me, I could not tell. I had a reputation at the time for being rather sleazy, immoral, and emotionally disconnected. You didn't seem to mind, though. Still pawing at the way I carried myself, the way I spoke and eventually my pride.

I had finally been drawn into the game. When you laid down on the floor of my living room next to the couch, I crouched over the top of you. Leaning over your form and staring into your bluish-green eyes. I almost found myself lost in the ocean of thoughts. I could almost taste the desire that you put off in that look. You were scared, and wanted to look away, but for some reason you continued to look into my eyes. I do not know what you see, but I believe it was a need to control and to enslave you to my will. Tanya, upon seeing this, quickly made haste to get you out of my reach. Though, it was something I would forgive her for, at the time, it boiled my blood. Unable to have the one thing I desired. I wanted for nothing. What I touched was mine, and you, my dear, were not. Not yet anyway, and I would have moved mountains to obtain you. Yet, I played the cool, charming young man. I apologized to Tanya and said that I had lost my cool slightly. Though, she knew it was a lie, she let it stand as she virtually ran out of the house with you in tow.

Damn that woman! I later bellowed out of spite, I could not have gotten a better opportunity than that. Or so I had thought. Later that night, while sitting in front of a computer screen and looking at various articles about scientific discoveries, or the on-going events in the world, my cell phone rang. Mindlessly fumbling my hand from the mouse, while still reading the article, I opened the flip-phone and answered.

"Frank Sorrows, how can I help you?" It was habit to answer the phone as such, my boss had taken the liberty of giving my phone number out to his clients in order for them to "get a feel" of the people that would do the work. As I sat and listened for a reply, I could hear heavy breathing. My head tilted to the side for a moment, as my mouth opened to ask again, I heard your voice.

"Frank... It's Eve. Tanya's friend from the diner." My head perked up and my attention immediately drawn into the conversation. Swiveling my chair, I leaned forward, putting my elbows onto the tops of my knees and stared at the floor giving you attention from every fiber of my being.

"Eve... What a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect you to call, yet alone have my number." I spoke softly, with an edge that was defensive. I pondered at what you could possibly want and the reason for the call. Obviously, there was something you wanted, and dare I admit, needed to say.

"Frank, I wanted to go to dinner with you... Alone when you get the chance." You sounded frightened almost scared at the idea of being alone with me. I do not know what it was, perhaps, Tanya had told you of the fact that I was just starting to get into BDSM. I did not know much, but what little I did know, I used to great effect.

"Sure, Eve. I guess. What day's good for you? I have Friday night and Saturday afternoon open. I'm busy with prior engagements any other time." I said, remembering the few things I had to do, though I was slightly exaggerating as I always gave myself extra time between things for a shower, cool-down period, whatever was needed after the fact, before going to the next plan.

"Well, Saturday afternoon would be great actually. I'll meet you at the diner at three or so." You sounded more hopeful now. Perhaps, it was fear of rejection that had made you sound frightened. It wasn't dreadfully hard for me to imagine that. We hadn't exactly known each other long. For me, it was almost as if a dream had come true in that instant. I had wanted to ask, but I figured I would give it more time.

"Saturday it is then, I shall see you then, madam." I closed the top of the phone and set it upon my desk. Thinking to myself, what would occur on that fateful night.

For the remainder of the week, I found my head often in the clouds, daydreaming about your figure. What you looked like beneath those layers of clothes. What you smelled like, and dare I say... What you skin would feel like against mine. I knew you were intelligent, and I knew you were a strong independent woman, but you were also very fragile and needed to be handled like a piece of fine china, seeing the light of day and being used, perhaps once or twice in a lifetime. The closer Saturday night came to being, the more anxious I became. Sleep eluded me at nights, where I would sit in front of my computer, listening to all sorts of soothing classical music, where I would read constantly about first date tips. You had backed me into a corner of my own making, and I had no idea how to get out of it. Color lost its vivid presence. Food lost its taste, and the minutes dragged as if they were years. Six days seemed like an eternity that would never be over, but upon that Saturday afternoon, I urgently rushed around and through my scheduled morning to make sure there would be no tardiness on my part.

I got home that morning at eleven-fifteen. That was an unearthly time for me. I had raced through the better part of my day in under two hours and still managed to have more time than needed to prepare. I showered. Once thoroughly washed, I walked through the house, with the towel wrapped around my waist, as if it were the bottom half of a toga. Stepping into my bedroom, I looked over my physique in the full length mirror. For some reason, I never remembered buying a full length mirror, and I quickly pushed the idea to the side. I looked at my shoulders. Broad, yes, but not without imperfection. Tan lines upon my shoulders and chest were visible. Clearly white from the wife-beater I would wear at work and a farmer's tan had deeply set it. I looked upon my biceps and found that they were well-defined and muscular, but they too had their flaws. I noticed them in the tattoo's. A missing line here, or improper shading there. It weighed heavily on my mind. My chest was not excellently sculpted, and neither were my abs. I found this to be the worst of the problems.

In so, I put on a wife-beater and a long sleeved black cotton shirt, underwear and a pair of loosely fitting blue jeans and the staple of my attire, black steel-toe work boots. Scuffed and scratched, but they served their purpose. Leaving the house after combing my hair back, and leaving it down to dry, I got into my car and drove towards the diner. It was the half-way point between our places of living, I thought. You were trying to meet me on middle ground. Once in the parking lot of the restaurant, I looked at the clock. It was one o'clock in the early afternoon. I still had a good length of time, two hours until you showed. From my jeans pocket, I produced a pack of cigarettes and a zippo lighter. Lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag, I turned the radio on. Idly listening to random songs on the radio. My mind reeled with the prospects of what would happen. How the conversation would go. Where it would go from there. Would I follow you home, or would you join me in my bed chamber? I quickly dismissed the ideas of the two of us having sex. For there was no solid fact, pointing and stating that you had even dared the idea of sleeping with me. I declared it preposterous as I waited. Those two hours went by quick as before I knew it, I saw your vehicle enter the parking lot. I put the cigarette out that I had in my hand and sprayed myself down lightly with cologne to mask the smell.

I walked up to your car before you could put it in park and as you did and turned the key in the ignition to silence the engine, I opened your door for you. "This way, madam." And I gave a slight bow as I did so.

"Why thank you, kind sir," You retorted with a chuckle, and fresh blood rose to your cheeks. I did not know if you were into BDSM and I had decided if it did however, lead to the bedroom that I would not impose that part of my life upon you. If you wished it, I would have thrown it all away and stayed with you for all eternity. Just the two of us. It was then, that I realized, I really did love you, and I had no way of knowing if it would work, but I was willing to give it my all. Every molecule I possessed would be bent into pleasing you, even though, I identified as a Dominant, I would have given you the world to please you.

You stepped out of the car and we made our way into the diner. Holding open doors and letting you choose where we sat, I engraved every facet of that experience into my memory banks. You chose one of the booths off to the side, I noted that you were wearing a royal blue hoodie, a pink top barely visible beneath the hoodie, but due to the zipper being mostly down, it could be seen. You wore a pair of tight fitting blue jeans and I admired your ass. It was indeed, perfect to me. Not only did I see you as an intelligent woman now, you were also extremely physically attractive. It was a win-win scenario. As we sat down, a small smirk crossed my face before I spoke.

"So, to what honor do I owe this meeting? I didn't expect you to call nor ask me out... Care to enlighten me with your intentions?" I spoke rather quickly, trying to vomit the words out before they were caught in my throat. Though, I did not show it physically. I was rather timid and afraid myself.

"Frank, I was hoping to see you on a more personal level. You are rather charming and extremely intelligent. Why you work for a construction company is stupid to me. You could do so much better for yourself. You're wasting whatever talent you have working manual labor." Your words struck me hard as steel, noting that you were angered by my choice of profession. I knew you were in college and working at a nursing home, but to blatantly call me out on something that I rather enjoyed, was beyond me. I was taken aback and I stared into your eyes, trying to see where this was coming from, but could not find the source.

"Eve, it makes money. I do other things in my spare time so I could possibly get out, but at the same time, I enjoy it. Hard labor has always been a knack for me. It's easy and I'm good at it. You make it sound like I don't keep my mind occupied and sharpened." I thought that would be a closing factor to the impending danger you sought, but that would be far from the last we talked of it. The remainder of the dinner was pleasant, we both talked and after awhile, actually relaxed. Discussing where we saw ourselves in the future, what we enjoyed doing, what we did in high school (both good and bad), we talked about our similar pasts, and how our parents treated us as kids. I told you about when I was sixteen and a girlfriend of mine ended up pregnant and miscarried. You told me about how an old boyfriend of yours raped you. It was a bonding experience that I thought would endure the ages and passages of time.

The check finally arrived and I picked it up, moving toward the register and paying for our meal. We walked out of the diner, your arm wrapped around my waist and mine around your shoulders. We talked and laughed, sitting on the trunk of my car, day light fading into a distant memory. Before we knew it, it was almost midnight, and we were still wildly alive. You looked at your phone, noting the time and then back to me.

"Don't you have work in a few hours?" You asked politely as I just simply shook my head.

"No, Eve. I don't..." My eyes fixated upon yours and I leaned in slowly, cautiously. My gut instinct told me it was time to make the move of the night to see where this would go. Gently our lips met and a kiss formed. My eyes were closed, and my hand moved to your neck, my thumb gently rubbing your cheek as the kiss deepened. I could smell your scent, it was absolutely delicious. The strawberry spray you wore, mixed with the brand of cigarettes you smoked, the kind of conditioner you used in your hair and an underlying pheromone that seemed to make you all the more intoxicating and beautiful to me. Eventually you broke the kiss, looking down at the pavement of the parking lot. I continued to eye you, licking my lips, wanting to taste every last bit of you that I could, afraid that it would be the first and only time I got to do so.

You stepped down from the trunk of my car, before turning and facing me. Your eyes wild with passion and your cheeks flushed from the encounter. My stomach turned with excitement that was brewing from beneath and I soon realized, I had an erection from your touch.

"Take me home, Frank..." you spoke quietly. I stared in almost disbelief before I got down myself, and opened the passenger door for you.

"Your chariot await, madam. I will see you there safely..." I spoke slowly now, wanting to savor the moments that we would spend together. You stepped into my car, lighting a cigarette of your own as I walked around and got into the driver side. I started the car and pulled out, heading to my house. To what purpose, I could only surmise and guess. I still refused to believe that you would actually sleep with me. Upon returning to my home, we settled into the dining room. I produced two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. We drank deep and our conversations continued, now only mild chatter. We were hesitant now, we both still had time to back out. Neither one of us wanting to make the move to go forward or backward, so we talked instead.

Finally, closer to four o'clock in the morning, looking at my own phone, I realized it was far too late for either of us to be up and still drinking. I cleared my throat, and saw that neither of us were driving anywhere. I lit one final cigarette and listened to your final story about your parents. Once you were finished, I spoke and broke your monologue.

"Eve. It's four in the morning. We should really try to get some sleep." I stated before standing and stretching out my stiff frame. "I'll take the couch in the living room and you can have my bedroom." I offered out of being a gentleman, I did not want to freely offer sleeping together, and I would not have a woman of your stature and beauty sleep on my couch while I enjoyed the bed. You rose and something a lot like anger seemed to flush your face for an instance before realizing what I had done, and your features softened.

"Actually, Frank..." You began before looking down at the floor. Your hands were at your side for another brief moment before your left was reaching to rub at my crotch through my jeans. Your face looked up to mine, and your right hand touched the side of my face and we kissed again. This time the wine had helped break the frozen river of desire and we were both caught in the raging waters. We kissed several more times, our tongues intertwining and circling the other. My hands moving over the curves of your hips and grasping handfuls of your firm buttocks. I lifted you into the air, bringing your face closer to mine and your legs instinctively wrapped around my waist. I walked slowly with you in my arms towards my bedroom, the kissing growing more intense and furious as our hormones and desires took precedence over our reason. As I laid you on the soft bed, I began to take off my shirts. You followed suit, removing your hoodie, pink blouse and red lace bra. Oh, how I loved the fact that you wore a red lace bra. I stopped undressing at my upper torso, before staring down at you, and moving towards your hips and lower half. With deft fingers of grace, I undid the top button of your jeans and slowly slid down the zipper, hesitating only long enough to ask a single question:

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

You arched, wordlessly, forcing my hand to rub roughly along the crotch of your jeans before letting out a stifled reply: "Yes, Frank. Make me yours..." That was all the permission in the world that I needed.

I slid your pants down the length of your legs. Your skin was sublimely smooth and I could hear the gasps you barely loosed as I gently rubbed the inside of your thighs. Looking up at your naked form of beauty. It was even more voluptuous than I had ever imagined possible. Your breasts were perfect sized. Firm and yet bouncy. An almost evil smirk crossed my face, as I leaned forward and began to lick the inside of your thigh towards your womanhood. My erection returned once again, as I gently spread you open to suckle and nibble at the sensitive flesh. As I grazed over your smooth skin with my work hardened hands, I could almost feel the electricity between us. Every nerve ending you possessed was being set ablaze with fiery passion from my caresses.