As the sun dipped below the horizon the Eiffel Tower spread its elongated shadow to the east.  The lights of the city slowly flicked on as the sky darkened, indicating the end of a perfect French day.  Collette was sipping a glass of wine at a quaint table that rested behind a wrought iron fence.  Ivy climbed the fence, snaking through the iron bars, reaching towards the heavens.

           Collette took another sip of her wine and smiled. For the last ten minutes she had been watching a young French man sneaking glances towards her.  She was purposefully keeping her eyes hidden from him gaze; watching him watching her.  He would pretend to be napping only to open his eyes to look at her with a subtle grin. 

           Collette finished her wine and the waiter immediately approached her table and refilled the crystal glass. He departed with a nod and Collette raised the glass to her lips. She sipped the wine, the fragrant bouquet filling her nose as the flavors of the ripened grapes exploded over her tongue. She smiled and set the glass back onto the table. The sun disappeared and the day faded into night.

           The man, emboldened by the lack of light, risked longer glances towards Collette.

           Collette grinned at him and beckoned him to her with a crooked finger. She motioned him to her and Collette could see a look of questioning contemplation wash over his young face. He stood, took a step towards Collette, paused, and then walked the twenty meters and around the ivy-laden fence to stand before Collette. “Hello,” he said in French.

           Collette replied in kind, “I saw you watching me.” 

           “No,” he lied, tripping over the word.

           “Yes,” Collette smiled, “you were. Don’t worry,” she continued, “I am not upset.” She looked at him and said, “Why don’t you crawl under the table and eat me.”

           He looked at her in shocked understanding. He knew that she could read him, knew that he needed her to take control.  Was the quiet monitoring from afar the thing that alerted her, or could she read the fact in his blue eyes?  He opened his mouth to speak but no sound issued from his gaping mouth. He bowed his head and dropped to his knees. 

           Collette nodded and spread her legs slightly. The young French man with the deep blue eyes that hinted at submission crawled forward on his hands and knees and took a subservient position between Collette’s parted thighs. The Eiffel tower stood proudly in the distance, watching over the scene that was unfolding at the quiet little table overlooking the quiet French street. 

           “Eat me,” Collette whispered down to the man under the table.  She was wet with anticipation. She had seen the look in his eyes that indicated his need to serve. His short blonde hair was stringy and unkempt, though clean, and she could envision pulling those blonde locks to force his tongue into her.  Inching forward on the chair she opened her legs wider, giving the young man access to her panty-covered sex.

           The young boy complied with her command. He was shaking slightly, awed at the natural way that the beautiful woman whose scent was enticing his cock into turgidity had easily read him.  He barely knew himself; hardly knew the deep and unyielding need to serve that coursed through his body.  He knew that it just felt right to serve and that kneeling between this beautiful woman’s thighs with her dark green panties in view he felt more alive than he had in all his twenty years.

           He inched forward and exhaled when the heat of her naked thighs touched his body.  The reality of the situation startled him and he sucked in a heavy breath of air.  He could smell her excitement and with the scent filling his nostrils he knew that he had to obey. Her enticing scent seemed to amplify that underlying need to serve, causing his submission to rise to unknown heights.  He knew he would obey her commands; that he would do all that she asked.  It was not for her that he would obey; it was for him.  Kneeling between her thighs with the city looking on he felt alive and needed, warm and complete. 

           He would obey.

           He pressed his tongue against her panties, massaging her sex hidden from his gaze behind the dark green fabric. He could taste her and his cock surged at the flavor that seemed to overwhelm his senses.  His tongue moved up and down against her, pressing the material of her panties into her pussy. 

           He heard her moan in delight. That moan rattled his brain.  He knew he was pleasing her but with a dawning realization of his submissive nature he knew that moan did more than indicate the pleasure of the woman above him.  That moan revealed the depths of his soul.  He realized that he was doing more than pleasing her; he was pleasing himself.  Hearing her voice her pleasure caused his supplicant mind to overheat in burning completion. 

           She had seen into him and had witnessed his true self that he had barely realized existed until that muted moan of delight. Kneeling between her thighs, pressing his tongue into her sex, revealed to him the true nature of his submissive soul. The realization overwhelmed him and his eyes opened wide with the knowledge of his true self.  He had never felt so complete.

           He shut his eyes and concentrated on pleasuring the woman that had revealed himself to himself.  He lapped at her sex with rapid strokes, massaging the fabric of her panties into her sex.  He pushed his tongue into her, the panties acting like a protective shield, separating his tongue from the hot flesh of her pussy. He continued pleasing her, pushing his tongue into her, holding it there and then moving his head to increase her pleasure.

           From above him the muted sounds of her pleasure amplified the feelings of submission that coursed through him; he was pleasing her and he was complete.  He felt her hands drop onto his head, pulling him into her. She moaned again and her fingers dug into his neck, raking up from his back to his ears.  She bucked against his face as her pleasure climbed towards orgasmic bliss.

    She scratched his neck as she came quietly, using her hands to relay her pleasure.  Her muted gasps barely escaped her full, red lips. He gasped against her pussy as she came, her fingers causing him to wince in pain.  He felt her fingers digging into his neck, scratching him.   They were oblivious to the few glances that were tossed their way by passing pedestrians on the street; each lost in the feelings that surged through them.

           Her orgasm pleased him and in silent contemplation he realized that he was grinning happily with the knowledge that he was able to pleasure her.  He realized happily that her pleasure was his pleasure, that the nature of his being was being allowed to surface for the first time in his young life. Her completion was his revelation; her orgasm sparked the completion of his soul.  He became whole thanks to her ability to read him; she had seen him for what he was and not for the person he had believed himself to be.

           He was complete.

           She released his body and whispered for him to climb out from under the table. 

           He obeyed.

           “Thank you,” Collette said to him as he took the seat that she offered to him.  “That was very nice.”

           He blushed at her praise. 

           Collette took a sip of her wine and then smiled, “you are coming home with me.”

           He nodded.  “Yes,” he said, his voice small.

           Collette signaled for the waiter and immediately he appeared.  Collette paid the check, tipped the waiter generously, and then climbed to her feet.  She beckoned the young man to follow her as she led him past the wrought iron, ivy clad fence.  He followed behind her, silently supplicating himself to her as she led him east towards the brilliantly lit Eiffel Tower. 

           She continued to lead him towards her home. He followed quietly, his head bowed slightly.  He felt complete as he followed behind her, like he belonged there with her, like she owned him.  His eyes remained locked on her heels as she continued to lead him. He was hers to command, he realized as they turned into her apartment building.

           She opened the door to her home and as the door slammed shut she said, “You belong to me.”

           With a silent and subtle nod he became hers.