Indigo Bloome Collection: The Avalon Trilogy: Destined to Play, Destined to Feel, Destined to Fly. Indigo Bloome
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I do remember only too well. The memory makes me squirm in my seat — initially uncomfortable, but amazing recollections.
‘What a classic night. One of my sweetest victories and ultimately one of our greatest discoveries about your incredible body …’ Jeremy’s voice trails off as we reminisce and I return to that time in our lives.
There has always been rivalry between us at uni as to who is best at what subjects and we often place bets with each other. Jeremy and I are both taking an elective Quantitative Methods course and had made a bet —whoever topped the class could choose one thing that the other had to go along with for the night, without complaint. I agreeably shook hands and had thoughts of Jeremy cleaning my apartment naked, preparing dinner, giving me a massage and generally being at my beck and call. Yes, I thought, this is an excellent idea for a bet, even more so because I had topped the class in all of our assignments. It never really occurred to me that I wouldn’t win; after all, it wasn’t his area of expertise.
The marks are finally announced: Jeremy scored half a mark more than me because he provided a more complete explanation for the final question. I head straight to Professor Jarlsberg’s office to go through the exam paper with him question by question. Annoyingly, although understandably, Jeremy accompanies me, unable and unwilling to hide the grin that looked far too big and wide for his face. No amount of argument or protest will convince the Professor to either increase my paper half a mark, or reduce Jeremy’s, though heaven knows I try. Jeremy’s smirk seems to double in size, if that were possible.
‘Not a word,’ I said harshly, waving my finger at him before storming off. Jeremy didn’t say a word, but his face spoke volumes.
I deliberately avoid him for the rest of the day, or else he wisely leaves me alone. We cross paths later that evening at our friend’s birthday drinks at a swanky gay bar just off Oxford Street in the city. I have calmed down and am not as devastated by my loss. An hour or so later, when we are all in a group talking, he whispers in my ear.
‘I think I’ll take my winnings now.’
‘Pardon, what did you say?’
He repeats his words.
‘Right here, now?’ I question.
I am a little embarrassed about my earlier behaviour as I’m not usually such a bad loser, but then again, I don’t usually lose that often.
‘Sure, what can I do for you? Buy you a drink?’ I start off toward the bar. He quickly hooks his arm around my waist and whisks me around in the other direction.
‘This way. Follow me.’ I pause, a little confused as to where we are going. It would be rude to leave without saying goodbye and besides, I haven’t been there long and was having fun with my friends. He senses my hesitation.
‘Now!’ His grip tightens as he steers me firmly toward the stairs.
‘What are you —?’
He raises his fingers to my lips, silencing me as we continue downwards. I never even knew this area existed in this bar. He opens one of the extra-large doors to the Unisex toilets, guiding me in before him, closing the door behind us and ensuring it is securely locked. It’s as if we are in a vault. On one wall there is a framed ceiling to floor mirror, otherwise the whole area is carpeted, floors, walls and ceiling. It looks and feels rather luxurious, particularly when you consider its rudimentary purpose.
‘Helps buffer the noise,’ he says by way of explanation as my eyes gaze around the room.
‘From outside or from within?’
He raises one eyebrow and gives me a quirky smile. ‘Hmmm … good question.’ Oh dear, what does he have in mind?
‘Do you need to go?’ His question surprises me as he indicates the toilet.
‘Oh … No! And certainly not with you in here.’ I sound indignant.
He washes his hands with warm water and carefully dries them.
‘For goodness’ sake, Jeremy, what is all this about?’
‘Me winning, you los—’ He stops himself short. ‘You, let’s say, not winning.’
I give him an exasperated sigh and roll my eyes. His eyes darken as he steps toward me.
‘Tell me what the condition of our bet was, Alexa.’
Oh, here we go … ‘“Without complaint”, Jeremy.’
‘Good, I’m pleased you remember. Turn around and place both your hands on the mirror and above your head.’
‘What?’ He turns me around, so I’m facing myself in the mirror, with him standing directly behind me. Even with my killer heels on he is taller than me.
‘Now!’ He impatiently grabs my hands.
‘Alright, alright.’ I sense that this is going to be a very long night.
I do as he asks and wiggle my butt back to where he is standing to lighten his mood. I can feel his erection swelling behind me. Ah, Jeremy, you are very turned on by this! We both let out a small, amused laugh as we catch our reflection in each other’s eyes. His eyes are burning with excitement and arousal.
He hitches up my skirt around my waist and pulls my knickers down to my ankles, waiting for me to step out of them. I give him a resigned sigh and lift my left foot. He ensures my legs are spaced wide apart.
‘Thank you,’ he says politely, as if offering me a chair to sit down.
What is he up to?
He kisses my neck and snakes his arm around my waist not wasting a moment before heading south and cupping my sex.
‘This is going to be fun. Don’t take your palms off the mirror, Alex. I mean it.’
He takes something out of his pocket and places it on the small shelf close to him, out of my line of sight.
Then he starts to play. One hand on the small of my back, underneath my bunched up skirt — although it is pretty short anyway — the other around my front where his magic fingers begin their tantalising quest. The juices within me enable a smooth gliding path for his ease of access. My eyes start to glaze over as the touch of his internal massage gathers impact and precision. He is watching me intently. I start to moan as the tension of the day takes its leave, only to be replaced by another form of rising sexual tension. My palm slips from its position, leaving a moist handprint in its wake.
‘Do not move your hands.’ I attempt to splay my fingers more firmly in place, in the hope of securing greater grip. Oh god … He continues his assault and I know I am close now, hungry for the release only a moment away. How does this happen so quickly with him? His fingers and thumb work in perfect unison and I am on the cusp … the very cusp … enter the vastness … the stillness … losing all sense of awareness … and explode into the beauty and wonder of what he can do to my body. My head leans against the mirror with my hands and elbows as my body convulses to the rhythm he has created when I suddenly feel an unexpected intruder — a shocking, warm, full, sliding intruder, in my arsehole. My sphincter automatically tightens around it.
‘What the fuck is that?’ I pant out the words as I recover my equilibrium, well sort of recover …
‘A butt plug. A couple of mates have just designed it. They want to use their degrees