Courting Her, A Femdom Novel

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

The First Time Alex Gets Into Trouble

Alex called at exactly seven, and Kimberly sensed he had spent the evening pacing. She suspected he even ate a light dinner to keep his stomach settled. She made him quickly refresh her memory as to who he was, which he did awkwardly, even saying, “You told me to call at seven.”

“That’s right. I did.” She sat back on her couch, snacking on some microwave popcorn she’d cooked up for the occasion. She crunched the kernels into the phone.

“I enjoyed meeting you,” he said, and Kimberly crunched. He squirmed to get a conversation rolling, but she answered tersely, sighed as if bored between mouthfuls.

She interrupted him, “Are you walking around? I hear footsteps.”

“Yes.”

“Well, sit down, you’re making me nervous.” A long quiet passed. “Are you sitting?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Kimberly went through a quick list of questions: What do you do for a living? How old are you? Where do you live? What are your hobbies? To all her questions, Alex responded with answers both informative and that included humorous side stories, which besides making Kimberly laugh, pleased her because he seemed focused on entertaining her. Finally, she asked why he called, and Alex hesitated, then answered that he hoped he could see her again.

She told him he could see her the next Friday night.

Alex took her to a play the university theatre department was putting on then, after, to a café. He was old-fashioned, treated for everything, held doors open for her, and sat after her. These were minimum requirements for Kimberly—she’d left dates without a word of explanation without these simple courtesies—but Alex also interested her by being more than simply attentive to her. He gave an insightful analysis of the play they saw which showed he had strong opinions that he expressed with conviction, though he was more eager to hear from her and didn’t pontificate. At the end of the date, Kimberly turned and faced Alex, who had walked her to the front door of her apartment building, told him she had a good time, but twisted away and inside without so much as a pat on his shoulder. She sensed his dejection, but he called the next day and asked to see her again.

The following weekend, Alex took her to a seafood restaurant located near a lake. After dinner, they walked around as the sun set and the lamplights along the path circling the water lit the night. Alex made a gentlemanly attempt to clasp her hand, but Kimberly slipped her hand away. A sigh escaped him over the sounds of their footfalls and the gentle chirps and croaks of the life in the weeds between them and the water. They were getting along excellently, Kimberly thought, and the near touch of his fingers excited her, but she loved the thought of his fearing she would only be his friend even more.

Alex made another attempt at the end of the date, leaning in with his body and his face—his lips ready to point for a kiss—but when Kimberly stepped back and stiffened, Alex yielded to her immediately. She did like that he’d tried again. She loved the way he fought through his desire to protest and, instead, thanked her for her company and wished her a goodnight.

He called on her again and asked if he could make dinner for her. She agreed and, the day of, received a bouquet of flowers signed, ‘Very much looking forward to this evening, Alex.’ Kimberly enjoyed her flowers. She sniffed them throughout the day, and when one of her neighbors asked about them, Kimberly told her that she was seeing a new boy who showed promise.

Alex met her at the entrance to his building a minute after she buzzed that she’d arrived rather than buzz her in. He noticed the bottle of wine she carried. “You didn’t need to bring anything but your beautiful self,” Alex said, as he held the first door for her, then hurried to open the second.

“I’m particular about my wine.”

“Well, I bought red and white. I couldn’t remember which was good with pasta.”

Kimberly flashed him a playfully-contemptuous look. “Exactly why I didn’t leave the wine to you.” She laughed.

“I usually drink beer,” Alex admitted. He pushed the elevator button and stood behind her while they waited. She knew he wished he could greet her by putting his arm around her. He was wearing black dress pants and a freshly-ironed blue shirt, dressed as if they were going to a nice restaurant instead of having dinner in. Kimberly had dressed casually in a light blue skirt and a white T-shirt, but she was glad Alex had worn nice clothes. It would be that much more fun when she ordered him to take them off.

“Did you receive anything interesting today?” Alex asked.

“I did. I got some flowers. That was very sweet.” She turned to him, and Alex faintly blushed and stared at his shiny black shoes. He looked so proud. She didn’t think he even noticed she didn’t say ‘thank you.’

Alex guided her with his hand, not touching, but at the small of her back onto the elevator, out onto the third floor, and into his room where Kimberly smelled baking meatballs. His apartment had clearly been recently scoured for her arrival, but she could tell from the look of it that Alex kept things well organized even when he wasn’t entertaining. And, of course, she liked the thought of him cleaning in a desperate attempt to impress her. She allowed herself to picture him on his hands and knees in the bathroom with an S.O.S pad in one hand and a bottle of soft scrub in the other. Soon enough, she would watch him clean her own bathroom if things continued as she expected they would.

“What are we having?” Kimberly started to look for an opener for her wine.

Alex immediately produced an opener, and two glasses, opened the bottle, and poured. “Spaghetti and meatballs, my dear.” Alex held out one of the two glasses to her.

Kimberly didn’t take it. She frowned and folded her arms across her chest. “I guess I’d better tell you,” she said, “I hate being called ‘my dear’.”

“Oh. What should I call you?”

“Call me by my name.”

“Spaghetti and meatballs, Kimberly, my specialty.” Alex smiled and handed over the glass.

Kimberly did the toast. “To new friends.”

Alex’s smile faintly faltered, but he repeated her toast, let her glass touch his, and sipped. He offered her the living room to wait in, but Kimberly stayed in the kitchen and leaned against the counter. Alex scurried about the cramped space in front of her, coordinating the cooking of the noodles, sauce, meatballs, and bread while cutting fresh vegetables—tomatoes, green peppers, and onions—for two salads.

Kimberly glanced around and was surprised to find, under another paper, a sheet with her handwriting. She pulled it out and a giggle popped out of her mouth. “Alex, what did you do?” She held the sheet out. Alex reddened when he saw what she had. “You finished my name?” On the note with her phone number, next to where she’d written ‘Kim,’ Alex had added ‘berly.’

Alex met her look. “I think Kimberly is a beautiful name.”

Kimberly hid her grin behind a swallow of wine. Alex returned his attention to the meal and soon began moving things over to the table. After setting down the salads, Alex pulled out one of the chairs and beckoned Kimberly to it.

He set down plates of spaghetti and meatballs, one for her and one for him, sat across from her, and started to pick up his silverware, but Kimberly was looking around the table. “Did I forget something?” Alex asked.

“Parmesan cheese.”

“Oh.” Alex jumped up, opened the fridge, and spun back to the table with the cheese. He set it down in front of her and sat.

“I’ll tell you when to stop.” She had her hands in her lap. Alex had to stand back up to reach the cheese. He began dusting her serving with it.

“And…stop,” Kimberly said.

Alex sat back down and watched as Kimberly looped spaghetti around her fork, stabbed a chunk of meatball, and ate. His eyebrows lifted. “Well?” he said after she swallowed.

“Alex, you’re a good cook—and an excellent server.”

“Thank you, Kimberly.” Alex prepared a forkful of food but left it hanging above his plate. “I actually have something I need to mention, then we can relax and enjoy the evening.”

“What?”

“Well, I’m enjoying your company completely as is, but I feel it would be lying if I didn’t let you know that I have, in the back of my mind, the hope that you’ll be my girlfriend. So there that is. In case the flowers weren’t enough of a hint, I just wanted to be sure that was clear from my end.”

She looked into his eyes and gave a faint smile that made Alex blush and lower his eyes. “I’d already guessed it.”

“You had?” Alex asked in mock surprise.

“I guessed it when you came up to me in the coffee shop.”

“Incredibly perceptive of you,” Alex said, grinning.

“I’ve thought about that, too. And I think you might get to be my boyfriend. You’re off to a good start.” Kimberly took a bite, chewed it slowly, swallowed, and sipped from her wine. Alex perched over the table, waiting for her to say more. He still hadn’t taken a bite of his dinner. “In the past, a lot of boys haven’t been able to handle me,” Kimberly said. “They end up calling me a lot of Bs.”

“Bs?”

“Arrogant b***h, demanding b***h, selfish b***h…”

Alex scowled and shook his head. “It makes me angry anyone would call you that.”

“Well, I can be demanding.”

“You’re strong-willed. Confident in your opinions. Those are good things. A lot of guys can’t handle that, but that’s their loss,” Alex said, adding shyly, “and hopefully my gain.”

“I’m very glad to hear you say that.”

After dinner, Alex served her a dish of sherbet to eat while he cleared the dishes and put them in the sink. He suggested a movie, and let her pick from a few he’d rented. He’d gone to the trouble of gathering an eclectic mix, so that she could see the kind of movie she wanted—a detail Kimberly noticed, and one that pleased her. She chose a romantic comedy.

Alex’s couch was short with only two cushions. He sat close to her after setting up the movie; just a sliver of space was between them.

The previews had ended when Alex set his shiny black shoes up on the coffee table in front of the couch. On the TV screen, as the opening credits flashed, a cute blonde in a white skirt and tank top was striking tennis balls, playing against a machine on the other side of the net that spit balls at her, but Kimberly was only staring at those shoes propped on the coffee table. There was over a foot of space between the bottom of the screen and the tops of his shoes, but Kimberly found them distracting. “Alex,” Kimberly said, “put your feet down.”

She felt him turn toward her, but her eyes remained set on his shoes. The stiff soles scraped against the table’s lathed edge. When they still didn’t return to the floor, she turned toward Alex.

He grinned as if he thought she had been kidding, but she kept her unsmiling face pointed at his so that he would know she was not. With a last scrape against the wood, his feet dropped off the table and returned to the floor.

Kimberly turned back to the TV, but she wasn’t really watching. “Why didn’t you put your feet down when I said?”

“I did put them down.”

“Did you do it right when I said?”

“No, but…”

“Why didn’t you put your feet down when I said?”

“I don’t know.”

Kimberly picked the remote up off the coffee table and paused the movie. “Do you enjoy being with me, Alex?”

“I do. I’m having a great time with you.”

“I’m not like most of the girls you’ve probably known, I’m…”

“I know, I can tell that.” Alex rambled, clearly sounding nervous—nearly frightened. “I like that you’re unique, and…”

“Do not interrupt me,” Kimberly said, in her calm, authoritative tone that she could tell was making Alex squirm and powerless to resist her. “I’m very much a woman, which means that I expect to be listened to with respect. I expect to be obeyed.”

“I respect you. Of course I respect you.”

She turned toward him and smiled. Alex broke into a laughing grin; he seemed so thrilled to see her relaxed smile again, and have the tension eased. Then his face emptied of color when Kimberly said, her face still relaxed in a broad, kind smile, “I want to punish you for not listening to me right away. Will you take it?”