Eleanor casually walked into the restaurant and looked around. It wasn’t particularly busy so she spotted Chrissie easily. Chrissie waved as Eleanor began to make her way across the room to her, negotiating the tables on the way.
“Hi Hun,” said Chrissie brightly.
“Hey, babes!” Eleanor beamed back, knowing well that that particular term of endearment would irritate Chrissie.
They kissed cheeks before sitting down and picking up their menus.
“I wonder if we’ll get through a lunch without interruption.”
Eleanor raised an eyebrow at Chrissie. She knew what she was hinting at, regardless of the innocent expression on her face. Chrissie gave in under Eleanor’s gaze.
“Well, he always seems to text you whenever we meet up,” she added.
Eleanor smiled to herself; she’d put her phone on silent knowing full well he would be texting with the details of their next meeting, and was going to check her phone when Chrissie was conveniently out-of-the-way.
The silence was broken when the waiter appeared to take their order.
“Nice arse,” Chrissie said, as the waiter walked off.
“Didn’t notice,” replied Eleanor, nonchalantly.
Chrissie watched her for moment before speaking.
“You’re preoccupied again!” she accused.
Eleanor shrugged. She had been contemplating what her Master would have in store this time.
“So what happened last time?” Chrissie asked.
For someone who thought it was unhealthy, Chrissie seemed to delight in quizzing Eleanor about her adventures. Eleanor didn’t say too much, but Chrissie persisted regardless.
“You were late, weren’t you? You didn’t go running off when he texted you last time.”
Eleanor nodded; she had indeed been late, but by just five minutes. Not because she’d taken her time leaving the coffee shop, but because she’d hung around on the street outside his place long enough to be late; trying his patience just added to the enjoyment.
“Did he punish you?”
Eleanor couldn’t help herself; she grinned from ear to ear. Of course he’d punished her, otherwise what would have been the point?
Chrissie sat back, exasperated, shaking her head, a puzzled expression on her face.
“I don’t get it!” she said. “I just don’t get it.”
Eleanor beat down the urge to reply with an innuendo ‘I do,’ and just started giggling to herself. It was Chrissie’s turn to give the quizzical look.
“So when do I get to meet him?”
Eleanor looked up suddenly: she wasn’t sure she’d want to share him with her, or what she’d really make of it.
“Only if he wishes it,” she eventually replied.
Eleanor regretted saying it immediately – she’d be expected to ask him during her next visit.
“Well let me know where and when, and I’ll be there,” Chrissie added, draining her cup.
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