After releasing Monica and helping her over to a low futon bed in the dungeon, Cole joined her and covered them both with a large quilt. Sleep came instantly and he fell into a near coma. Waking refreshed the next morning, they elected to go out for Sunday brunch at a restaurant in nearby Kirkland. Sitting at a table with the remains of a delightful meal before them, they started to seriously discuss their relationship.

"Things are developing a lot faster than I expected," he admitted. "I've never been in a relationship like this one before. What do you think of it?"

"I agree it's been fast, but I'm not complaining. I feel like I've been waiting a long time for this." She reached her hand across the small table to touch him. "I suppose my girlfriends would tease me for being involved with a lawyer, though."

"Oh, yes. I forgot to tell you about that. Glad to see you figured it out. Do you mind? Some people think we're a lower form of life."

With a relaxed chuckle she said, "Howard, I don't think you're anyone's idea of an average lawyer. Did they teach you how to be sexually dominant in law school? I've never met anyone who understands it as well as you."

"I'm flattered that you think so, but I don't think anyone really understands it completely. It's a very complex subject." As he spoke, he scanned the dining area and noticed the nicely dressed, almost prim and proper clientele. What would they think if they knew what he and Monica were discussing?

He decided to bring up something that might be a touchy subject. "Monica, how are you feeling about our age difference?"

"To tell the truth, Howard, I don't think about it at all when we're together. It just seems very natural."

"I feel the same way, but I'm a little worried about what other people will think. I've seen men my age suddenly appear with a sweet young thing on their arm. Everyone immediately assumes that it's just a young bimbo that he's acquired to help him through his mid-life crisis. It wouldn't be fair to expose you to that kind of pressure."

"Hey sweetie, didn't I tell you that I've been dating guys older than me? I know exactly what you're talking about and it doesn't bother me a bit. Who cares what other people think? Eventually they'll see that we're happy together and good for each other. The ones who can't see past that first impression aren't worth worrying about."

She decided to move on to a different subject. "Howard, our play this weekend has helped me learn some things about myself. Do you want to hear about it?"

"Of course Little One... I mean Monica," he grinned.

"Well, Master Howard," she said with a touch of friendly sarcasm, "I've been thinking about whether I'm a sub or a bottom. That was always a big topic of discussion in my on-line groups. At this point, I'd have to say I'm both. Just thinking about SM play makes me feel subby and the more submissive I get, the more I crave the spanking, the clothespins or whatever." While she spoke, she played absentmindedly with a strand of her adorable brown curls that framed her face.

"That certainly makes sense to me," he responded. "It took me a while to find out that I was a dominant who liked psychological play as well as a sadistic devil who liked to spank pretty women" He noticed how her eyes sparkled as he spoke. "Maybe I just like making them give up control."

When she thought about giving up control, Monica's eyes lost their focus for a moment and she visualized what had happened to her last night. With an effort, she snapped herself back to the conversation. "Yes, I wonder if it all comes down to control?"

"It's as good a theory as any. If I can change the subject slightly, how do you think our relationship will effect you at work? I wouldn't want you slipping into subspace at work like you did just now."

"You noticed that? Hopefully it won't happen at work. I'm actually pretty dominant when I have to be. You should see what a bitch I can be sometimes!" She said it convincingly, but was glad he hadn't noticed her stiffening nipples. It was going to take some time to avoid slipping into those erotic daydreams.

"I can imagine you wearing spike heels and black leather, swinging a long bullwhip around the office."

Giving her best Betty Page smile, she said, "that's me, Mistress Monica."

"I hope you aren't Mistress Monica with me. I tried having a relationship with a Femdom and it didn't work out."

"You? With a dominant woman? Do you mean a professional, uh... Pro-Domme?"

"Oh yes, Nikki is a pro all right, a good one. Her working name is "Mistress Valeria". The reason it didn't work out was that we were both dominant. She's a great person and fun to be with, but we had no sexual chemistry. Put two dominants together and what you get is a vanilla relationship. We thought it was quite funny at the time."

"Oh, too bad. I was imagining you being beaten and verbally abused by some bossy bitch in a Dominatrix costume," she teased.

"I'm afraid it wouldn't do anything for me, but if you're interested I could contact her and see if she'd like to play with us sometimes. She likes sexy little subby girls like you." He watched as Monica looked thoughtful for a minute. "You once mentioned that you were a little bisexual, right?"

"Yes, maybe more than a little. But I don't know if I want to be dominant or submissive with another woman. Maybe just vanilla."

"Sounds like another fun avenue for us to explore. I'm certainly willing to participate if you're interested."

She looked down and said shyly, "I'm interested, just nervous. Will you help? Maybe you could surprise me sometime."

"I'll keep it in mind," he said casually. It sounded like the sort of scene that would be spoiled if he talked about it too much. "Why don't you tell me how you got that beautiful tattoo? I'll bet it was expensive."

She laughed, "You won't believe it! My college roommate and I decided that we wanted to get tattoos, but we didn't have much money. So, we found out about a friend of a friend who would do us for forty dollars each. This guy was supposed to be an art student with a lot of talent, so we decided to take a chance.

When we went to his place, you could barely see through the haze of marijuana smoke. We almost backed out when he insisted that he needed to have a few drinks in order to do his best work. I was really scared, but I love the final result. Later we found out that these were his first tattoos. I can't believe how lucky I was."

Cole's eyes went wide, "His first tattoos? Yours looks like it was done by a real professional. Damn, you were really lucky!"

When Monica stopped laughing, she asked, "Howard, how come it smells like pipe tobacco in your office? I've never seen you smoking anything."

"Oh, that," he said, waving his hand, "I like the smell of some pipe tobaccos, so I use the stuff to give my office a nice masculine scent. I'd never smoke the stuff!" He made an unpleasant face.

"OK, how about those photographs in your house, did you take those?"

"Sure did. Those are from my landscape period, before I discovered the joys of photographing naked perverts doing naughty things," he grinned. "I haven't photographed a mountain in years."

They sat there in their own world as the mundane people of Sunday morning Seattle moved around them, somehow kept apart from them as if by an invisible barrier. They held hands across the fine linen tablecloth and looked into each other's eyes like any ordinary pair of lovers.