NOT NECESSARILY A KINK
By
Ashleigh Anpilova
Ducky talks about something he likes.
An established relationship story.
Written: August 2006. Word count: 1,034.
I don't really like to use the word ‘kink', as to me it always implies the kind of sexual activities that involve pain and handcuffs, and other such things. And although Jethro carries handcuffs and a gun, the thought of using either for sexual pleasure is foreign to me, as it is to my beloved.
Not that, I hasten to add, I have an objections to anyone indulging in whatever he or she wishes to indulge in, for his or her pleasure. As long as both, or maybe I should say all, parties are in agreement, and it is fully consensual, and all parties are adults, then what goes on behind closed doors between the parties, should be purely their business.
The dictionary definition of ‘kink', when pertaining to the sexual is: A person with unusual sexual tastes. But of course the word ‘kink' has far more connotations than just the sexual. It can mean: A painful muscle spasm especially in the neck or back. I know that one well. When you spend as many hours on your feet as I myself do, bending over bodies, getting into awkward positions, a few kinks are to be expected. And of course these have increased in number, as my body has got older. The word also means: A sharp bend in a line produced when a line having a loop is pulled tight. A difficulty or flaw in a plan or operation. An eccentric idea. I believe the last of these options suits me rather well.
But as usual, I'm wandering slightly from the subject in hand. If my Jethro were here, he would no doubt be saying ‘Duck' in his fondly exasperated way, or even silencing me in another way, a much more pleasant way, but sadly not a way he can really adopt at the office. Although, I have to confess that I rather like the way he snaps my name, it is very intimate really.
Jethro once accused me of deliberately wandering off tangent, merely because I enjoy having him interrupt me, and I have to say that as usual, my dearest is correct. Hmm, I wonder if that would constitute a kink? Probably not, it isn't as though I get sexual pleasure from it, which given where we are the majority of the time it happens, is a good thing. But I do enjoy it. I shall have to give the matter further thought.
However, I must return to my ‘kink', I shall for now use the term, as it might be somewhat unusual. I am sure that people wonder why my beloved does not wear a suit, or even a collar and tie, on a regular basis. Well that is because if he did, the chances of us actually getting out of the house, let alone through the day without me . . . Well, let us say that they would be extremely low.
You see what arouses me more quickly and more frantically than anything else, is the sight of my dearest dressed up in a suit, his uniform, or indeed formal evening wear.
When I first met Jethro he was in his dress uniform, and the sight of him made me forget my first rule: ‘Never try to seduce a man who is clearly heterosexual'. I am lucky that rather than hit me or worse, that Jethro, after a moment of two of surprise, not only succumbed to my seduction, but became an active and enthusiastic participant in our lovemaking.
That was thirty years ago, but the excitement I felt has never waned. It was the main reason that, during the case where Jethro dressed up in his uniform to force the sniper into revealing his hand, I did not seek to make contact with him. Until that is, he turned up on my doorstep that evening - still in his uniform. It is a good thing that I had arranged for Mother to go and visit Mrs. Patterson for the evening.
It is bad enough when he wears a suit or his uniform, but when he wears evening wear, then I . . .
"Duck?"
"Jethro my dear."
"Don't you think you should get ready?"
"Is it not a little early for . . . Oh, Jethro."
"I thought maybe you'd like to . . . Ahhh, I see you would."
It was indeed a little early for Jethro to get ready, some three hours early, actually, but I certainly was not complaining.
He's standing across the room from me now, talking to Tobias, a glass of wine in one hand, his ‘why the hell am I here?' expression on his face. He might not like putting on his dinner jacket, but he certainly knows how to carry it well. His grey hair and weather tanned face, tall, lean figure, and self-assurance, fit well with the formal black and white.
He hates wearing it, but it suits him so very well. It makes him even more attractive and desirable. And I know that although he doesn't enjoy wearing it for himself, he does like to wear it for me. He indulges me - and not always when he actually has occasion to do so. There are times when . . . No, I must not allow my mind to go there, or else I . . .
Oh dear, I do hope that this silly function, which Jennifer insisted that all the staff attend does not go on for too much longer. If it does, I might just be forced to invent some kind of emergency that requires the joint services of a Medical Examiner and a Senior Federal Agent. I am after all only human, and despite making love for over two hours, I am afraid that I am once again more than ready to return to Jethro's arms and our bed. It really is a good thing that he does not have to wear formal attire on a regular basis, or else . . .
Yes, I may not really be fond of using the word ‘kink', for my liking of my beloved dressed up, but I am afraid that it most definitely it one.
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