Chapter 2: Strange Places

Allison Remy doesn’t often wake up in strange places. Well, there was that one time that she woke up in her good friend’s closet, which was pretty freaky. But she had been pretty wasted and there was no way he was going to let her drive back to the dorm. Besides, it was a walk-in closet, so there was plenty of room.

Allison blinked twice as she roused herself. Her legs stretched out languidly and she arched her back, squeezing the sleepiness away while reveling in the feel of the luxurious silk sheets. The smooth sheets slipped off her lithe nude body, revealing a lovely picture of feminine beauty.

‘Silk sheets?’ She thought. She sat up, pulling up the sheets to cover herself as she came aware of her unclothed state. A cursory glance around found her on a queen size bed in the middle of a very tastefully decorated room filled with wood furnishings, a loveseat and matching ottoman, a dresser and a few doors. She gulped as she realized that just about everything in here costed more than her monthly rent. Her thoughts slid back to last night as she got up, wrapped in silk, and penguin waddled over to what looked like a closet door.

‘Last night was amazing,’ she thought, feeling a lingering soreness in her legs and between. She had to admit to herself that she had never felt so deliciously turned on. Frighteningly, she wondered how much she’d had to drink that evening. Not enough to black out apparently, and hopefully not so much that she’d made a fool of herself in from of that man ... who was obviously rich. Very rich, given the trappings of his room. Looking in the closet, though, she quickly realized that this was not the master bedroom. Only four items were hung up in the expansive closet. The first was a silk pearl colored nighty with matching bottoms and matching robe which went to about mid thigh. The second was a red lacy bra and panties set. The third was just a black choker with odd metal glinting on the inside. The fourth was an odd looking pearl necklace. This told her a few things, the man is rich since this is just a guest room, the man probably likes to play mind games since this clothing was just her size, and she was definitely on some kind of adventure.

Deciding to play along, Allison chose the pearl nighty and impulsively grabbed the pearl necklace. Checking the next two, she found the next thing she was looking for. A hot shower. Oddly, never for a moment did it cross her mind to worry about Fred. In truth, Fred was the furthest from her mind because of subliminals that she’d been listening to for much of the night. As she showered, she simply didn’t even think about contacting anyone else and just enjoying the “adventure”.

The server from last night heard the shower going and informed her master of his latest girl’s awakening. He didn’t bother looking up from the newspaper as he listened.

“Should I add special steam to the shower sir?” she offered pleasantly.

“No, thank you Bethany, I’m quite satisfied this morning. Actually, I should like to be able to talk to her over breakfast. See that Carmen has a light breakfast ready for when our precious Miss Allison joins me.”

Bethany nodded, “Of course, sir.”

“Oh, and Bethany,” he added, “She will need a massage once we’ve eaten. Dress accordingly.”

Bethany smiled respectfully. Her smile was like a benediction. She had a slim face and long straight brown hair with high cheekbones and eyes clear as the morning. When she smiled, you could imagine her as anything, the vixen, the girl next door, the true love that you never realize was there all along ... She was classically beautiful and could have easily been a model. Perhaps she had been at one point.

Minutes later, Allison walked out of her room, wearing the silk nightie and robe tied closed at the waist. She checked and adjusted the towel that encased her hair like a turban as she padded down the hall. She reached an open common area, and now was less surprised at the trappings of means she saw displayed; the paintings and sculptures, the grand piano in the corner, a large screen—presumably a television—covering much of one of the walls. In the midst of the scene, she saw the man from last night, sitting, reading the newspaper. Feeling a bit bashful, her hand moved to brush hair from her face that wasn’t there—a reflex for uncomfortable situations.

Meekly she offered up, “Hi.”

Rustling the paper closed, he looked up to her, she couldn’t distinguish his age, though he she knew he had some years on her. He replied, “Good morning, my dear Allison, come join me, have a seat.”

She had started to say something but paused with the word halfway to her opened lips, when it dawned on her, “Ah- yeah, I—well I don’t quite remember your name is the thing,” she said as she hesitantly stepped forward to join him.

“That’s because I never told you my name,” he paused for a moment, thinking, “You can call me Sirius.”

“Like the radio thingy?” she offered up helpfully as she sat down careful keep her modesty in the brief garment. He was definitely a handsome man. Apparently, wealthy enough to have spare time to hit the gym as well. She noted he was wearing a stretchy form fitting shirt and track pants. And she was quite pleased with what she was seeing.

He smiled at her, somewhat amused, “Well I suppose so, though I was thinking more about the star in Canis Major.”

Again her hand drew itself to her face. She felt flustered, a bit overwhelmed by this man and this situation. So many things to ask. She was about to start asking, “So about last night—”

But she was cut off, “You must be famished, and now that you know my name—ah there.” Right on cue, a lovely latino woman in a maid’s uniform walked in carrying a tray with two plates of sliced fruit and some sort of ruffled sweet buns. Wordlessly, she set them down before the nearly chatting pair.

“As I was saying, now that you know my name perhaps you’d like to have breakfast with me,” he finished with a smug smile.

After a pause she consented with a smile, “May as well. So would this be a continental breakfast?”

He nodded thoughtfully considering, “Well ... I supposed you could refer to it as such. I usually think of continentals as those god awful smatterings of burnt toast, bagels, and lousy coffee that they serve in hotels. Try the sfogliatella, it’s fresh.”

Allison pointed to the strange looking fruit garnish questioningly, “Where’s that fruit from?”

Sirius smiled, “That, my dear, is a dragon fruit I believe it’s from Guatemala, or somewhere thereabouts. This one is mostly for garnish, though.”

She bit her lip, obviously he hadn’t been referring to the fruit being fresh. She felt a bit foolish at the moment but he didn’t seem to be judging her, which helped. “Alright, so I’m going to guess that since I know what everything else here is, then I’m guessing sfogiyatella is the name of the pastry?”

He smiled, “You are correct my dear. It’s Italian, usually served with coffee, but I find that warm, it goes quite well with a little powdered sugar and fruit.”

“Mmm, well it looks very exotic,” she replied.

“If you would indulge me for a moment, the word sfogliatella actually means lobster, and it was said,” he continued, “That the pastry was created by a chef in Naples. Apparently, his wife was pregnant with their first child, and she craved a lobster. Normally in Naples for a chef this is not a problem, but this was not lobster season, and he had none to give her.”

Allison listened intently nodding.

“Not to go back to his wife in failure, he took some of her favorite ingredients and made a pastry that would have the same creamy sweetness of lobster, and would even look like a lobster, hence these folds and ridges,” he finished.

“Wow really?” She looked at him for a moment, considering the story, “No seriously, is that really the story?”

He allowed for a pregnant pause, a smile creeping to the corners of his lips and wrinkles around his eyes becoming slightly more pronounced.

A bit more incredulously she asked, “Was there any part of that story that was true?”

He chuckled as he replied, “Made every last bit of it up, but I had you fooled for a moment there.”

A bit of beaming pride mixed in with her laughter, finally feeling comfortable. “You punk!” she exclaimed half-heartedly swatting at him. There eyes locked for a moment in a smile. Allison found herself really attracted to this man.

“Well, I guess you do a lot of traveling, Mister Sirius,” she asked coyly.

“Enough to find out exactly what I want, Allison.” His reply struck her. Not for the words themselves, but with the way that he said it. Without an ounce of flirtation, he merely said it as a statement of fact. Like a man who knows what he wants—but maybe not the right way to get it. It was ... strange.

And so it was that they had breakfast, she asked about why he read the paper and complimented his decor. It seemed strange to have a conversation with this man after such an intensely orgasmic night without even referencing it at all. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it yet, but for the present time, she liked the romance.

“I see you chose the pearl necklace,” he observed.

She smiled, “Well yes, it was there, I—guessed you might like it.” She grinned, playing with it, though she realized idly, that they seemed ... oddly soft.

“Interesting choice,” he observed. Sirius then setting the paper down completely while looking her over and said, “You have quite an amazing body, Miss Allison.”