THE TOUGH BUTCH GIRL

---

The Tough Butch Girl.

a.k.a Girl On A Motor-bike.

By Robert Davidson

Rodney Keating had just left the law office where he worked in Moonee Ponds. As he made his way up to the station, he reflected on the career counselling session he’d just had with Mr Clarkson, the most senior partner in the law firm.

He had completed his articles and was due to be inducted as a fully qualified lawyer in the Supreme Court the following Thursday.

Mr Clarkson said he would be only too pleased to sponsor him at the ceremony and looked forward to Rodney joining the staff on a full-time basis.

Rodney had now reached the bluestone laneway that ran between two buildings, which served as a walkway to the station.

He had left his car to be serviced with a mechanic in Glenroy, and had taken the train to work that morning.

Ahead of him in Margaret Street three men were talking and laughing. They entered the laneway and Rodney was suddenly afraid. He felt trapped in the deserted lane.

The men were now encircling him, cornering him. One grabbed his jacket while another leered into his face. ‘Let’s have some fun before we …’ The third man was filming everything with his cell phone.

‘Get off him now,’ the rider ordered. ‘Let go of him. Stop touching him. Let him go!’

The bald-headed man had again grabbed hold of Rodney by his arms.

‘Get off of him now!’ the rider repeated. ‘Leave him alone!’

The blond-haired man then made a sudden run at the rider. As if it was all happening in slow motion, the rider didn’t move until the last moment, then stepped out of the way of the man’s path, grabbed the thug’s arm and redirected the direction of his assault. Using his own unchecked momentum against him, the rider caused the blond man to hurtle forward.

The man staggered to his feet and charged again, but this time the rider knocked the blond-haired man senseless with a karate chop to the side of his neck.

The rider then turned to the bald-headed man and hit him first with a straight right to the nose and then a left upper-cut to the jaw. This was followed by several hard punches to the head and stomach.

The black man was struggling to stand up, but the rider tripped him and pushed him

back down on the ground. Picking himself up again, he pointed to the rider, shouting, ‘It’s a bloody woman!’

The woman then turned again to the bald-headed man and delivered a fast judo chop to the right side of his head.

The black man came at her again this time flashing a knife. With a swift kick-boxing technique she aimed at his wrist with her steel-capped boot knocking the knife from his hand and fracturing his wrist in the process.

‘You fucken bitch! I’ll break you in half for this,’ he screamed as he ran towards her.

But again she side-stepped him, tripping him over, he came down with a crash. She was obviously an expert in ju-jitsu. The man’s breathing was ragged. No doubt he had concussion from the impact.

Out of control, he had crashed to the cobblestones with enough force to leave him momentarily stunned.

Rodney just stood there, too astounded to move.

Rodney is visibly dumbfounded by the woman rider and her brilliant part in the melee. He looks at the girl in admiration and takes in her hand-tooled, silver-studded leather jacket, the black leather pants, riding gloves, the zipped-up steel-tipped boots.

‘That was incredible!’ he said to the girl who is hardly out of breath. ‘I don’t know how to thank you.’

‘Donna Quinn,’ the girl said as she came closer, extending her gloved hand.

‘Nice to meet you,’ Rodney said after shaking hands. Again he thanked her profusely. ‘I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come to my rescue.’

Donna was taking off her helmet revealing coppery red hair tied back in a ponytail.

‘What did you say your name was?’

‘Donna Quinn. And you are?’

‘Rodney Keating.’

Donna exuded such an aura of confidence and power, which Rodney found both discomforting and exciting.

‘Where did you learn to fight like that?’ he asked.

‘It’s my job,’ the girl replied. Her voice – deep and throaty. ‘I teach Martial Arts!’ she projected such a degree of quiet strength. After a pause, she asked, ‘What do you do?’

Her eyes traversed Rodney, leisurely, appraisingly.

‘I work in a law office at the other end of Hall Street. I’m almost a lawyer.’

‘That’s good to hear. What were you doing in such a quiet alleyway at this time of the evening?’

‘I was heading for the station.’

‘The station? You’re a lawyer and you don’t have a car?’

‘My car’s being serviced at a garage in Glenroy. That’s my train coming now. I’m sorry, I’ll have to leave you.’ He looks at the three men lying prone on the cobblestones. ‘Did you want me to call the police or anything?’

At that moment the skin-headed thug was regaining consciousness and was staggering to his feet. The other two men were making odd-sounding groaning noises.

‘Perhaps,’ said Rodney, ‘we ought to call an ambulance and get them to hospital.’

‘No hospital. No police. I’m all right,’ said the bald-headed man.

‘You don’t look all right,’ said Rodney.

The other two men were sitting up and looking blankly at Donna. The blond-haired man was rubbing the side of his neck.

Rodney looked towards the station. ‘Damn, I’ve missed my train.’

‘You in a hurry?’ the girl asked,

‘It’s just that the garage closes at six o’clock, and I need to collect my car. I’ve got a meeting in North Melbourne later tonight. It’s now twenty to six and the next train comes at ten past.’

Donna pulled on her helmet, clipped the strap under her chin, and slung her right leg over the saddle. She leaned back with her left boot planted on the cobblestones.

‘I can give you a ride,’ the girl said as the bike coughed to life. ‘Have you ever ridden bitch?’

Rodney, feeling intimidated by the big machine, muttered nervously, ‘No.’

‘Then come on. I’ll get you there in ten minutes. I’ve got a spare helmet in my storage compartment. ‘Just put it on. Climb on behind me. Grab me around the waist and hold on tight.’

Securing the helmet onto his head, Rodney climbed awkwardly onto the Harley to ride pillion behind the woman.

‘What do you want me to do now?’ he asked.

‘Just be prepared to hold on very tightly,’

Donna turned to make certain Rodney was seated correctly. ‘Wrap your arms firmly around me and hold on. Ready?’

‘Yes.’

Donna gunned the throttle and sparked up the powerful engine and with a loud roar the big Harley caught on the first try. ‘Here we go,’ she called above the thrumming vibrations. ‘We’re off!’

Another loud roar filled the laneway as Donna threw the bike into gear and turned the bike into Hall Street and accelerated down towards Pascoe Vale Road.

Rodney felt his stomach lurch as they turned sharply onto the main road. He felt the wind tearing at his clothes as Donna weaved the powerful bike in and out of the slow moving traffic.

He feared for his life and at the same time felt exhilarated by the deep vibrations in the pulse of the bike. Now everything was rushing past him in a blur as the street lights flashed by.

Donna then turned the machine out into the right lane as they passed a large estate car pulling a trailer.

Eventually, they turned right into Glenroy Road and arrived at Station Street, just as the garage-man was about to close.

Rodney thanked Donna for getting him there on time to pick up his car. ‘That was very thrilling,’ he said breathlessly as she climbed back on the bike. ‘It was my first time as a passenger on a motor cycle. I had no idea what it would be like.’

‘I’ll have to be going now,’ Donna said.

‘Hold on a minute. I want to thank you again for coming ort my rescue.’ He wanted to say something more to her but the moment passed. ‘Well, goodbye, and thank you again.’

She looked him over before she climbed onto the bike, start the motor, and drive away.

Rodney wondered if he would ever see her again.

2.

A few days later Donna came to the law office where Rodney worked. He is surprised and delighted to see her and directs her into his office.

‘I’ve got a problem. I received a letter from a solicitor in Keilor yesterday. That blond-headed man, Robert Wilson, who attacked you, with two of his friends, is planning to sue me and have me charged with assault. Apparently, he’s having much trouble with his breathing due to damage to his windpipe when I gave him a karate chop to the side of his neck.’

‘But you did that in defence of me. There were three to one against you.’ Rodney replied.

‘I need you to explain that to the Essendon Magistrates Court in six weeks’ time.’

‘I’ll be only too happy to. And provide you with any other legal assistance should you need it. Why do you think they attacked me?’ he asked.

‘They were tough-guy poofters, locker-room jocks, who crave a lot of rough male on male sex. They saw you as fair game.’

‘How do you know this?’

‘I had an older brother who was very much like those men.’

‘What happened to him?’

‘Geoffrey loved going out on the town, as he called it, night after night. Frequently, he would meet up with men in a public lavatory in a park near our home in Brunswick. He often said he was having such a gay time. That was until he contracted AIDS. Ten months later he came down with double pneumonia. His immune system wasn’t strong enough to fight the virus. He died at the age of twenty-four.

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Rodney.

Rodney is not only very grateful to Donna for coming to his rescue, he is also very attracted to her as a woman. Her strength and tough manner really turns him on.

So much so that he hasn’t been able to get her out of his mind. He is truly smitten. But he was unsure about the next step he should take.

He is afraid to ask Donna to go out with him, fearing she will reject him. He is highly embarrassed by his predicament, his lack of confidence, his self-consciousness.

But it was as though something was compelling him to ask her. So he steeled up his courage.

3.

The following day Rodney telephones Donna and leaves a message on her cell phone that he has good news for her. By mid-afternoon he is a little disturbed that she hasn’t rung him back but at four thirty she arrived at his office in person.

‘I just wanted to tell you that I spoke to my boss, Henry Clarkson, and told him all about how you came to my rescue. Henry immediately rang the local police and has discovered that a CCTV camera was operating in the lane last Tuesday evening and has recorded the whole fraccus with those three men. It is quite clear that Donna was defending Rodney.

Henry also said that the fact that the tall black man, Mahommad Abbas, who flashed a knife, and threatened them during the melee, would be soon dealt with by the police.

‘You should disclose the fact of the CCTV footage to Robert Wilson’s solicitor,’ Rodney told her, ‘and the charges against you will most probably be dropped.’

‘I’ll do that right away.’

Rodney realised that Donna didn’t even thank him, but it didn’t matter. He wondered what she saw in him when she looked at him. Her self-confidence was intimidating.

He felt he didn’t come up to her standards. Yet something drew him to her. Attracted him although she frightened him. She was strikingly good-looking. Thick red hair. The swell of large breasts. The smoothness of long legs

Rodney was thoroughly average in looks. Shaggy dark hair needing a cut. His face pleasing but basic.

He reflected how fear congealed in his stomach. So he had to build up the courage to try again. Took a deep breath.

‘I think I’d like that,’ Donna said after considering it for a moment. ‘I like French food.’

Rodney was delighted. ‘I’ll check out online for a place, there’s most likely to be a suitable restaurant in Carlton. If not in the city.’

‘I know a good place,’ said Donna. ‘It’s a new restaurant that’s just opened around in Puckle Street. It’s only a few blocks away. You can walk there from here in five minutes. It’s called Moniques.’

‘I’ll ring them straight away and make a booking.’

‘I’ve already made a reservation,’ she smiled. ‘Next Friday. Six pm. That okay with you?’

‘Six will be fine.’

‘Meet me there at six o’clock and don’t be late.’

The red-tressed girl leaned towards him in such a way that made Rodney think for a moment that she was going to kiss him goodbye. Instead, she merely placed her open palm on his shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. Then, with another smile, she turned and headed out to the street.

4.

All day Friday it has been raining heavily.

Six o’clock found Rodney waiting in the foyer of Moniques restaurant in Puckle Street.

He felt as though he has been transformed to another time and place. The restaurant has been decorated in the style of Paris in the nineteen-twenties. There are large photographs of Ernest Hemingway. Gertrude Stein, Scott Fitzgerald on the walls. On an opposite wall there is a big photo of James Joyce standing outside Sylvia Beach’s bookshop. The place certainly had an atmosphere. On each table there were cardboard models of the Eiffel Tower, the Arch of Triumph and Notre Dame.

‘Table for one, sir?’ a woman in her mid-thirties asked as she stepped out from a small counter.

Donna was late. Rodney didn’t know whether he should ring her or not.

‘Oh, I’m supposed to be meeting a friend here,’ he said. ‘I guess I’m a little early.’ He looked at his watch and saw that it was ten past six.

‘Did you make a reservation?’ asked the woman as she checked a small clipboard in her hand. ‘What is your name. m’sieur?’

‘I think the booking will be in the name of Donna Quinn.’

‘Ah, Donna.’ The woman’s sculpted eyebrows lifted above silver-rimmed glasses. ‘Ah, Donna Quinn? Oui m’sieur. She is a great friend of ours. You are most welcome. Let me introduce myself. I am Monique Duval, ownair of the rest’rant. My ‘usband Jean-Paul is chef.’

Monique was a tall bottle-blonde in her early thirties. Wearing white slacks with a blue buttoned-down blouse that reveals fat dimpled arms, she was now casually leaning against the desk and studying Rodney carefully.

‘I know Donna so well. We met under unusual circumstances. She’ll be here soon and won’t let you down.’ She touched his shoulder with a plump, heavily-ringed hand.

Rodney was very aware of her sharp blue eyes. There was an amused smile on her face.

Rodney glanced into the restaurant. There is a long, highly polished oak bar to one side with a number of tables covered in damask and a few booths at the back against the far wall, where there is a large portrait of Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir sitting outside Le Deux Magots cafe.

At that moment a musical ring-tone from the cell phone in Monique’s pocket rang and she tells Rodney that Donna has rung to say she is running late, as she has been waiting thirty-five minutes for a taxi. She’ll be here as soon as she can.

Meanwhile Monique was telling Rodney how she had been walking in nearby Queen’s Park with her seven year old nephew Louis, when they were both threatened by a large bulldog, who had somehow got off his lead and was blocking the path beside the lake. The dog barked at them and had a very nasty growl.

Suddenly, a girl on a motor-bike pulled up at the kerb and went straight to the dog and grabbed his lead which was trailing on the ground.

She held the dog away from Monique and the boy until a moment later the red-faced owner of the dog arrived.

‘I’m terribly sorry,’ the man said. ‘I left Ulysses tied to a tree for a moment while I went to the toilet. When I came back he had managed to pull his lead free.’

‘We got big fright,’ Monique said, ‘we didn’t know maybe he is savage.’

‘I’m awfully sorry,’ the man apologised again. ‘Although he’s got a nasty growl, Ulysses will never attack anyone, unless I give him a command. Apart from that he’s very old like me, and suffers from acute arthritis.’

Monique was now telling Rodney how grateful she was that Donna came along at that moment.

Rodney says that Donna seems to have run a one woman rescue organisation.

Another three people came into the foyer and Monique directed a waitress to show them to a table at the far side of the room.

Rodney then looked up and saw Donna coming into the restaurant. She is wearing a large plastic raincoat and carrying a big beach-like umbrella. ‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ she said as Rodney helped her take off the raincoat. ‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting. It’s pouring outside. I had to wait over half an hour for a taxi.’

Donna and Monique exchange soft cheek kisses.

‘You’re looking especially beautiful tonight,’ said Rodney, taking in her ultra-feminine little black dress and tiny Louis Vouillon clutch purse.

‘Thanks,’ was Donna’a pleased reply.

The restaurant was now nearly full of diners talking and laughing as they were eating.

‘Your table is right this way.’

They followed the waitress through the tables to a booth at the back.

A few minutes later the same waitress was standing by the table, her order pad in hand.

‘Do you mind if I order for both of us?’ Donna asked as she smiled at her companion. ‘I’ve been here three times this year. I really know what are the best things on the menu.’

Rodney smiled to himself. This was Donna taking control as usual. ‘Go right ahead,’ he agreed.

‘Do you like steak?’

‘Very much,’ he said. ‘I think I’ll have the sirloin.’

‘Well, I’ll have the eye fillet.’

‘A very good choice.’

At that moment the sommelier came over to their table and handed them each a wine menu.

Rodney smiled warmly at the man as he looked up from the menu he had been reading.

The waitress returned and Rodney gave her the order for the steaks and vegetables.

At this point Donna spoke up. ‘I would like an appetiser first. What say we have some escargots?’

Rodney’s stomach clenched.

‘You mean snails. No thank you.’

“What’s the matter? You a bit squeamish?’

‘About some things. Yes. I think I’ll try the tomato soup.’

‘Sounds fine by me.’ Donna said.

‘What wine would you like? Red or white?’

‘I’d like the Penfolds Shiraz,’ she decided. ‘How about you?’

‘I’ll have the same.’

Donna then gave the order for the wine to the sommelier.

‘So how has your day been?’ he asked as they waited for their order to be delivered.

‘Tiring. I had a special self-defence class for girls this afternoon.’

‘Why only girls?’

‘The girls have to learn how and where to kick a man if they are attacked. In other word kicking him in the balls. They can’t be taught this with the boys looking on.’

‘I see,’ said Rodney.

‘Have you had a good day?’ she asked.

‘So – so.’

‘Only so – so.’

The sommelier now arrived with their wine and poured it. Rodney signed for it.

Donna loves escargots and has ordered a dozen for herself. She offers Rodney a snail still in its shell. Rodney tastes it but is repulsed by eating a snail for the first time, and is hurt when Donna laughs at him.

‘Come on, Roddy, get with it.’

‘No thank you,’

Donna asks Rodney if he has anyone special in his life?

‘You mean girlfriends?’

‘Well, you tell me.’

‘I had a couple of brief affairs that led nowhere when I was at Melbourne university. The few girls I’ve gone out with since I broke off with Sandra Shaw last Christmas have been rather forgettable. How about you?’

‘Three years ago I had a lesbian affair with a girl named Rosamund Duarte.’ Donna seemed to look away for a moment, then continued. ‘Rosamund or Rose as she preferred to be called was a delicate, very feminine girl who was only too willing to play the submissive role in our relationship.’ Rodney could see Donna was reliving the memory of Rosamond’s flesh against her own.

Donna took a quick gulp of wine, and then proceeded to tell her entire story.

‘One weekend I was called to Sydney for a week as my father was very ill. While I was away, Rosamond was walking through the Fitzroy Gardens, and was raped by a man who strangled her. He most probably killed her to silence her screams. The person has never been caught.’

Donna’s voice was broken and the tears ran down her face. ‘I really cried for months afterwards. I loved her so much.’

Donna said this was one reason why she came to Rodney’s defence when he was attacked by the three men.

Rodney seeing how Donna was so visibly upset and reached out to touch her hand. Donna pushed him away abruptly, not wanting sympathy.

‘I take it you’re only interested in girls,’ he asked.

‘I’m bi-sexual, if you want to know. But I only have one lover at a time, So I have to choose carefully before I commit to someone. But I’m not wanting a relationship at the moment.’

She took the glass of wine that had been poured for her and drank it all at once.

‘Early this year I started going out with but not sleeping with a man named Harry Coghlan. He’s a mathematics teacher who works at the same school as I do in Northcote. You may have heard of him. Harry plays football for Hawthorn. He’s had a lot of media attention this year. TV interviews and so on. He also a hot odds-on favourite for the Brownlow.’

‘What’s that?’

‘It’s a medal awarded to the best and fairest player of the year given by the Football League.’

‘And he’s likely to win this, you say? He must be pretty good.’

Rodney was dispirited. He didn’t think he could compete with a star football player.

‘He is best. At football. But although he may be the best and fairest on the field, he was never fair to me.’

‘How’s that?’

‘He told me he was living apart from his wife and that he was seeking a divorce. What I couldn’t deal with was the fact he’d been lying to me right from the beginning.’

She pointed to her glass. Rodney lifted the bottle and refilled her glass.

‘Separated and getting a divorce was what he told me. I spoke to his eldest daughter, Jane on the phone. She told me he was still living at home and sleeping in the same bed as his wife. I was so angry I immediately broke off with him. I told him I was not a homewrecker.’

She took a long drink of her wine.

‘He was angry at first and then tried to make a joke out of it. ‘I’m not used to having girls turn me down,’ he said. ‘Women are always after me!’

‘I told him that I looked for fidelity in a relationship, and that I could see him no more.’

Rodney said as he glanced at the girl to see if she wanted anything else.

The waitress came and served the main course. ‘Is there anything else you would like?’ she inquired. ‘A dessert perhaps?’

‘I love chocolate mousse,’ said Donna. She had cheered up quite a bit.

‘I’ll have the same,’ said Rodney. ‘And coffee a little later on too.

‘Has everything been satisfactory?’ Monique asked as she came by their table. ‘Is there anything more you would like?’

‘No. Just the check please,’ Rodney said.

The waitress came and totalled up the check and placed it on the edge of the table.

Rodney pulled out his pen and scribbled his name and how much tip to add on and handed it back to the girl before she headed off to check with other customers.

‘At least let me pay half,’ Donna said.

‘No. I’m the one who invited you to dinner, remember.’

5.

Outside the rain had eased off a little but was still very wet and the street was muddy.

‘My car is parked a little way up the street,’ said Rodney. ‘Would you like to remain here while I get it and come to you?’

‘Yes, please.’

Donna was left standing under the restaurant veranda. Soon she found herself slipping into a red Ford Falcon that had pulled up beside her.

‘You’ll have to tell me where you live,’ Rodney said as he pulled out into the traffic.

‘Powlett Street, East Melbourne. I have an apartment there.’

As they made their way down to the junction, she told Rodney how her breakup with Harry Coglan had been rough. ‘Harry had a lot of difficulty understanding that the word ‘no’ meant precisely that ‘NO!’ he seemed to think that I was providing him with a challenge to try harder, that I was playing hard to get.’

Donna found herself opening up to Rodney, saying things about her personal life that she never thought she would reveal.

She feels embarrassed she had confided so much. But there was something about Rodney that inspired trust.

While they were driving down Nicholson Street in Fitzroy, she went on to talk about Rosamond. ‘It was the only time I hit on a woman. I never thought it would happen but it did.’

They went past the gardens and Donna pointed out where Rosamond had been attacked and murdered.

Reaching her apartment block Rodney parked just outside the front entrance.

He turned toward Donna and his eyes were locked onto hers for what felt like a long time.

A small smile played across Donna’s face.

Rodney slowly brought his mouth towards hers. She felt his hand on the back of her head pulling her closer.

To his surprise she returned his kiss. After all Donna had insisted that she would be in charge.

The kissing became more insistent. He could feel Donna’s tongue trying to find its way between his lips. Rodney greatly enjoyed the moment.

When they pulled apart, he was aware that her eyes were upon him, and he knew he was being evaluated.

Rodney is surprised when Donna tells him she has feelings for him. After acting as if she couldn’t stand him. And he felt they could talk about almost anything.

He wanted to reach out and hold her. To have yet another intimate moment with her. He reached out to pat and squeeze her shoulder. But he soon realised that Donna was not very good at intimate moments. She, it transpired would rather be physical than emotional. And to remove her emotions from the equation.

Another small smile appeared on the corner of her mouth. She had been lost in thought for a few moments.

‘You’re larger than life,’ he said,

She kissed him softly at first, but then with increasing intensity. To take in her dominating tongue. As her tongue slipped down into his mouth caressing its counterpart.

She was relishing the power she had over him. Donna then grabbed Rodney by both shoulders and pulled him tightly against her.

‘Come back here tomorrow at seven o’clock. I’ll have dinner prepared for you.’

‘That would be great, I very much appreciate that.’ Was Rodney’s rejoinder.

He put his arms about her. Lightly, her tongue again probed past his lips.

‘I’ll see you at seven.’ Then she opened the door of the car and let herself out.

Rodney waited until she had let herself into the foyer of the apartment block.

6.

Donna was setting a large vase of chrysanthemums on the table in the kitchen annex and had placed two candles in the centre of the table.

She then went into her bedroom and stood in front of the large mirror on the back of the door and checked her appearance.

She had spent most of Saturday thinking about Rodney Keating and was looking forward to seeing him that night. She realised that few men treated her like a real person. It was hard enough getting some men to take you seriously without seeing you as just another bed partner. She thought about their conversation last night, and although she had done most of the talking, Rodney had proved a good listener, and she had never felt more relaxed.

To her way of thinking Rodney projected an image of quiet strength and would take things slow with no pressure. He was good-looking, she further thought. Clean-shaven, but rugged with a handsome face and short black hair.

She had just finished dressing when she heard the double-ding of her apartment’s doorbell. Donna took another quick look in the mirror: she checked her blouse, her ample cleavage, then smiled in satisfaction. she looked fine.

She opened the door and Rodney, holding a bottle of wine and a bunch of roses, stepped inside.

‘Would you like something to drink?’ Donna asked as she directed Rodney towards the couch. ‘A beer or a vermouth?’

‘A vermouth and dry, please.’

‘Coming right up,’ Donna said as she headed off to the kitchen. ‘Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be with you in a moment.’ He looked around the room, taking in the various things in the living-room. Framed photographs on the walls, one of them featuring an obviously younger Donna, her university degree and many small ornaments.

He settled back on the couch. Vivaldi was playing softly on the stereo.

The red-haired girl was only gone a minute returning with two glasses of vermouth. A moment later she came back again, this time carrying a small tray of sliced meats and cubes of cheese and placed it on the coffee table next to the drinks.

She handed Rodney a glass and sat down at the other end of the couch.

Long silent moments passed. Moments that they just sat there, they were in no hurry. Neither Donna nor Rodney felt the urge to talk. Donna was pleased that they could relax together without the need to talk. She thought to herself, we can just sit here and enjoy the wine and music. So for the next ten minutes that’s exactly what they did.

She leaned across and took the empty glass out of Rodney’s hand and led him to the kitchen, where she began putting the finishing touches to the meal.

She had prepared a magnificent chicken marsala with vegetables.

‘This is incredible,’ he said.

‘Would you like some more?’

It was a candlelight dinner and the wine made talking easier, talking about last night.

After the fruit salad desert, they left the dishes on the table and moved from the dining alcove to the living room.

‘Would you like to hear some more music?’ Donna asked before turning up the sound on the stereo. She then served port with the coffee.

As the soft sounds of Mozart filled the air, Donna sat down close to Rodney on the couch.

The two sat on the couch, drank the port, listened to the CD.

Rodney looked silently at Donna. He was still a little in awe of her. Donna reached over and took the empty glass from him and set it down on the table. She set her own glass next to it.

Her tone of voice making no mistake that she was in control of the moment.

‘I’ve decided I want you,’ were Donna’s words.

Rodney was delighted at this and was looking at her with love.

She leaned forward, closing the gap between them.

She then put her prodigious breasts up against his chest.

‘As long as you understand that I’m in charge. I do like to be in control, I admit that. I like to make decisions.’

She stepped back from him briefly.

‘But I do want my partner to enjoy himself as well.’

Then went on to say.

‘I’m also dominant. I just adore the feeling of being in total control. Do you think you could handle something like that?’

‘Yes, I could,’ Rodney replied in a solid tone.

‘Really now?’ Donna countered.

Her touch was a combination of both tough and gentle.

The impression of dominance she gave made Rodney feel somehow very safe. And he liked the idea of giving his body to someone stronger for her pleasure.

Comments