Free erotic stories by monica3 on AdultRead
Flick worked from an unpretentious office in a chic part of the city, assisted by a couple of girls who, like me, had gone to one of those fine British girls’ boarding schools and had the cut glass accent that I had worked so hard to lose. “It isn’t like that at all.” Rehearsing Act 2 of ‘Complicated Lives’ by a local playwrite called Julie Baker. I’d mind less if it was real but it’ll mean I’ll need a couple of blouses every night and it’s a pain.” “Ellie, I don’t know what you’re thinking of asking but if it’s what I suspect it is, can you imagine the gossip about an actor and a critic?
She handed one to Mira then lifted her glass and said, “To pain.” She smiled. Mira pushed the girl away, stood and walked through to the dark bedroom, large, but not as large as her own. She slapped Ivanova's arse, hard and often and the dark haired woman beneath her screamed in pain and ecstasy until their orgasms burst from them almost simultaneously and they slumped together, still conjoined, the dildo deep in Ivanova's arse. Ivanova lifted herself onto her knees again and turned to watch Mira as she went to the bedroom door. Ivanova smiled - anticipating the imminent sting of cane or whip but was puzzled as she saw Mira stop and stand stock still.
‘I’d like our relationship to develop but I need you to understand. I think you have worked that out and that you’re wearing a dress tonight because you know I like that?’ The question was in her intonation. I had felt that when she told to me to wear a dress and, looking back, I do know it was telling me not asking. In my email I had said how it had touched me, how deeply it resonated with me and that, although I did not understand myself or the book completely, I had sensed something almost spiritual. I took my time, enjoying her little noises and other indications of pleasure, like her hands in my hair. She undid the last of the buttons holding her dress together and like me she opened her thighs.
Smith, tall and urbane, explained why they wanted me to join the ‘family business.’ If Dad said I had the skills it was accepted. My flat would be taken care of by Dad. Everything I might need would be provided, clothes, a passport, a bank account, credit cards cash and, of course, a weapon. I went downstairs and found Jay with a tall man in the sitting room. We kissed, gently at first but with increasing hunger and she began to rock her hops between my thighs, her wetness on mine and slowly the tension in me welled up and this time she allowed it and I arched and groaned into her mouth.
About half way along the corridor she opened a black, leather covered door and led me into a large room furnished with sumptuous carpet, large deep chairs and a sideboard which held drinks bottles and glasses. ‘Mira will want you to be happy.’ As she said these words slowly her hand moved from her cock and began inch by inch to pull my dress up until she could reach between my legs to stroke my naked pussy. Looking over my shoulder I watched as Mira and the redhead came close and felt the back of my dress being lifted, not knowing by whom. Hands on my shoulders and at my face held me there, my dress up, my breasts still covered by the silk of it but hard against Ivanova’s naked body.
I found us a lovely little hotel that even said ‘gay friendly’ on its website; a statement that would normally put me right off but it looked gorgeous and the sample menu was divine. ‘Well, I’ve had it for today and I hope you like what I have selected.’ With that she turned away and went into the bathroom where I heard her pee mainly because she left the door open. ‘Don’t speak, feel.’ Her mouth closed on mine and her hips began to move at a slow pace, gently entering me deeper and deeper before withdrawing and then re-entering, a movement she repeated as she kissed me, her tongue mirroring the actions of her girl cock.
I didn’t know of course, but I was sure there was something suspicious about her and I wasn’t going to let lust get in the way of professionalism. We know that a number of them are more active, and we have reason to believe that the group that organised that pot shot at your boss, the one you took, is part of them.’ Angie weighed every word as she spoke to me. ‘Harry knows damn well that I am not working for EAT or any other organisation apart from the one that protects Lauren.’ I kept my eyes locked on Angie but spoke to Harry. ‘If,’ he said calmly, ‘you insist on going we have to leave Jen behind, and you need to change your dress.
She was probably fucking Jen as Lauren reclined in the hot, bubbly bath and at the thought of the two women making love her finger, with a mind of its own, crept to her pussy and stroked. ‘Not at all, I am grateful.’ Ava sat, crossing her lovely legs and giving Lauren a fine view of them but, she noticed, not in too revealing a way. ‘I’m going to fuck your arse too.’ Not, I noticed, a question but I’d been had that way before and I liked it so long as it was nothing that might split me and this one was purpose built.
Her cornflower eyes had that wicked smile and her blonde, short cut hair, flicked around her ears beneath her tweed cap, the one she preferred to a riding hat like the one I was wearing. To my left sat a statuesque forty-five year old woman with a cap of dark brown hair and to my right a much older man, her husband who gave the impression that this might be his last Burns Night. Vicky was careful not to do me any harm and after a couple of dances she led me past the table and out of the hall into a side room, where she kissed me. I felt Debra’s hand on my arse and went to move but Vicky held me tightly.
Frances threw her arms around Angie and kissed her fervently, overwhelmed by this demonstration of Angie’s love and commitment. The weapon stood on its bipod and she pulled the stock lovingly to her shoulder, easing the end of the barrel through the window like Angie sometimes eased into her. Throwing the case onto the rear seat, she clambered in beside Angie who gunned the car away from the kerb and into the city’s traffic. Angie pulled the car to a halt outside the house Frances indicated. Frances kissed her hard then got out and walked quickly to the door of the house which opened as she arrived and closed behind her.
We entered the ballroom to a fanfare of music and there, at the end of the room and before the congregation, stood my love, my Maria. To claps and kisses I was led by Maria from the Ballroom and followed her, now happily just the two of us, up the master staircase and, once more and to my astonishment, to the private apartments of our Mistress. She led me, still inside me to the edge of the bed then withdrew, turned me and bent me over the silk covers and took me again from behind, loving me and bringing me to a crescendo of ecstasy which overwhelmed me, laid me waste and was simply the most magnificently arousing experience of my life.
I slipped quietly out of bed, borrowed a long silky robe that was hanging on the bedroom door and walked down to her sitting room. Her left hand cupped her breast and she rolled her nipple between two fingers. Her right hand curled and her fingers spread her lips, opening her to my gaze. I looked up be she pushed my head down again and I kept licking, tasting her wetness, lapping it clean with my tongue. She didn’t stop immediately but kept licking until the aftershocks had ceased then she sat back smiling. As we left Frau Meyer wished us good morning and as Tilda walked ahead she looked at me mouthed ‘gut!’
After a long while of kissing and gentle fingering she moved her hand around my back and allowed her leg to slide between mine and, like before, she urged me to rub myself on her thigh. I went home and did some perfunctory housework before taking a glass of wine into the garden and sitting in the warm sun, dress hitched up over my legs and contemplating the events of the night and early morning. I’d have been quicker but I stopped for a while and lay on the bed, hand between my legs and felt her enter me, caress me and when I came it was quiet but that was because her mouth was clamped over mine.
‘Entre nous, College,’ said Donna later when we were in bed together, ‘this is what I call a bosom.’ She gently palpated mine as I kissed her ear. Donna and I wandered down to the pub one evening, bought a couple of glasses of wine and sat talking at our usual table by the window. As I recall Donna and I were later indulging in a little bit of mutual exploration when I said, ‘You fancied him, didn’t you?’ Donna’s finger did a little ‘come hither’ motion somewhere deep inside me and I clung to her as the wave of abandonment flowed through me. In fact Donna said she looked like she was having an earthquake!
I took it to her and she examined it closely and finding it to her liking instructed me to assume a position, bent forwards with my hands on the foot of the bed. I will instruct you as to the manner of your rogering and you will perform precisely as I command.’ She assumed a position similar to that which had held only moments before and told me to stand behind her. Suddenly, her face pressed to the bed, she began to make a grunting noise and I saw her hands grip the silk sheets. I withdrew the rod from within and felt somewhat disappointed that although the velvet ridge had afforded me much pleasure I had not, once more, reached the peak of ecstasy.
‘Come in.’ She stood aside to let me pass her and, as I did, she closed the door and her hand settled in the small of my back as she guided me past the sitting room where not so long ago she had fucked me as I bent over the back of the sofa and on into a brightly lit and vast kitchen. Her hands ran over my tits, down my sides and hips and then I felt her tongue on my nipple, then a little bite as her teeth closed around it. Taking my courage in both hands I stood and hastened around the car to check Frank and at the same time pressed the distress button on my mobile.
I picked up discarded stockings and suspender belt and walked back through to the bedroom where I found Lana partly dressed and wearing the knickers I had bought for her which looked delicious on her. I stepped back and she entered followed by Sophie who was almost as tall as Lana and Lyn and who wore a dress similar to mine – calf length with small sleeves although hers buttoned from neck to hem while mine had no buttons. I followed Sophie back to the kitchen where Lyn and Lana were kissing in a very unsisterly manner. We ate supper, a delicious casserole of beef and then retired once again to the sitting room, this time with me sharing a sofa with Lana and Lyn and Sophie sharing another in the large, high-ceilinged room.
Sophie kissed me again and this time her tongue came deep into me and her hand caressed first my breasts and then slid under my skirt. I looked up and watched as Sophie stood and walked out of the room, returning a few moments later with a small black bag in her hand. Sophie came and stood on my left, her arms stretched out to touch both twins and she kissed my face. The voice to my left said, ‘She understands, Lana, of course she does.’ I was, at that moment, looking at the twin to my right and watched as her face broke into a wide smile. Sophie moved to Lana and pulled her nightdress gently away from her left breast.
I had a few days on the firing range and a quick refresher course which was organised really to make sure I was up to it all and finally I was ready to go. Monday. I’ll brief you on Monday morning. Jen had sorted someone to keep the place tidy while I’d stayed with her so there wasn’t that much to do anyway. ‘Ernie gave me your number. I’ll pick you up at seven.’ I chose a deep red evening dress that had a high neck cut in a small V. ‘Nice,’ said Angie. ‘Ernie said you’d been ill. ‘I’m fine thanks.’ I heard a small chuckle. The car pulled up in the sanctuary of the car port and I breathed what I hoped was an imperceptible sigh of relief.
We were standing to one side at the exhibition and enjoying a moment together while Donna took the opportunity to sip half a glass of champagne with me before returning to her duties as ‘Guest Relations Officer’ for the event organised by her boss, Miss Denton-Smale. ‘And these,’ she said, stroking my suspender through the long black dress I was wearing and with a mischievous grin in her mis-matched eyes,’ are known as garters. There is no denying Donna when she is set on something and she led me, giggling, to the kitchen where she kissed me passionately and her hand lifted my dress and cupped my pussy. Holding hands we entered the room in which the dinner-dance was to be held and I could almost feel Donna holding her breath.
I nodded ‘But I am sure readers want to know about the woman behind the job.’ ‘No. There is little public interest in the mechanics of your work, they want to understand you.’ I tried a different tack. Without asking she went to a cabinet and poured two large glasses of champagne, turned and handed me one. She took my glass from my hand then the bucket and placed both on a table close to the bed. Her hands deftly undid my own blouse and pulled it out of my long skirt. Suddenly her mouth was on my pussy, her tongue probing me, her teeth biting my lips while her hands roamed freely over my body, over my breasts and down over my legs.
God knows there were plenty who wanted me to switch on my cam, strip and stick clothes pegs on my nipples the first time we chatted. I took my bag and dress up the room and closed the door. A suspender belt of course, because she had said many times that she liked that. Her dress was long, simple like a shift in purple silk, layered and falling to touch small purple heeled slips. “Let me see your room.” I led the way, opened the door and stood aside to let her in first. Bring your nightdress and come with me.” She touched the pendant hanging in front of my dress and smiled, lifting it in her palm, then turned to lead the way.
Do you understand?’ Although I said I did, I did not entirely comprehend but I was led away by Jenkins and later that day provided with my new uniform, a long, dark blue dress with a white pinafore and white cap which tied behind my neck. I served in this way for a good few months while continuing my normal duties and it was one such evening that Mistress Pickles took me aside to a small side room from the salon. She smiled, ‘Of course you are my dear but Jenkins shall teach you the joy of Sapphic love and then you will join my ladies during the soirees henceforth.’ I had lived to this date almost as a nun.
Irina will be punished for not preparing you correctly.’ She took her hand, reluctantly it seemed to me, from between her secretary’s legs and stood. She turned and lifted her dress – her arse was naked and striped with what looked like cane strokes. I opened the door and was astonished to find Irina, naked, sitting in a chair. Irina walked to me, knelt at my feet and slowly, looking up into my eyes, pulled my robe open. When I stopped trying to push her away, her hands opened my buttocks and her fingers worked with her tongue. I did not want Irina to suffer again at her Mistress’s hands and so allowed her to lubricate me with her fingers, and gently ease the plug into me.
Her hair was covered in a large silk shawl of deep blues, reds and gold which matched the dress, more like a sari, that she was wearing. The entrance hall was sumptuously furnished and a woman in a long black dress and with hair of a deep red like I had never seen before. There was subdued lighting, our booth was almost in darkness and it faced a pair of large, deep red curtains which I assumed covered a stage of some description. The standing woman stepped to one side and reached down to cup the masked girl’s chin, lifting her face so it was looking, despite the mask, directly at us.
Until your virginity is gone this is where I shall enjoy you and you will learn to love it, to crave it.’ Her finger passed the resistance and indeed I moved from discomfort to pleasure. ‘You sent for me, Mistress Pickles.’ It was only then that I noticed another lady was with her, sitting on a delicate chair close to the large window. ‘Then let us say merely that normally she is a guest whom I amuse personally but in view of your being a cherry for her to pick you will be her pleasure tonight.’ She looked into my eyes and suddenly hauled her dress up and spread her legs.
‘If,’ said Donna, ‘all men are created equal, what about women?’ She had the ability to raise such matters at moments when I was not entirely able to reply, this time being engaged upon a mission to return a favour she had bestowed upon me earlier. ‘Your trouble, College, is that you grew up expecting your mother to love you.’ Donna said this as we enjoyed our regular glass of wine at the local pub. Why don’t we knock of our drinks and scamper to your garret where I should like to indulge in what I believe is called unproductive sex.’ We swallowed our drinks and, as we left our table, Donna took our glasses and placed them before Nellie’s bosom.
Somehow telling Karen, kissing her good bye and leaving the coffee shop had stopped the adrenalin and I felt dog-tired so I wandered home for a couple of hours shut eye before facing the fray later. “I’d like to run a few things past you, some detail that we’re working on relating to Liz Prosser. At the same time as Charlie Curzon was sharing wine with Karen the previous evening, Prosser was bent over a table in a flat belonging to a friend of hers. ‘The Western Sentinel has discovered that Marion Carswell, Chief of the City’s police force spent a holiday in the Maldives with Mrs Liz Prosser days after the Councilor’s planning department granted permission for Gordon Harper’s controversial development in the heart of the city.
Although I like earning I had really wanted to spend this evening with Sam. She told me to get showered and dressed and not take too long about it. Sam’s orgasm came as it often does, preceded by a sort of low grumble in her chest, her legs bent a little so her pussy slid down over my nose, her hands pressed into my back and then, she pushed herself hard against me and her wet ran over my face mingling with my drool. I felt Judith’s hand reach around me from behind to stroke my breast and then she suddenly removed one clamp and I shrieked as the blood returned to my poor nipple and Sam held my face and kissed my nose.
Her hands occasionally touched the other girl but it didn’t matter because I wasn’t watching. I stood in front of the window and looked out into the barely lit night as I slipped my dress off. Her hands touched my now bare shoulders, stroked down over my arms then up under them to cup my breasts as she kissed my neck. When I came it was with her mouth pressed to mine and her hand again between my legs, a finger or two curled up inside me. She dried her hair a little with a towel and then sat in chair, quite naked, looking out onto the dunes that lay at the end of the garden.
I was about to say something but she silenced me by cupping my mouth with her left hand while her right delved between my legs and stroked me until the familiar wetness allowed her to enter me which she did quite gently with one finger. ‘Time was I was embarrassed by this little girl,’ she said, stroking it gently, ‘but she gives me a great deal of pleasure and right now you two are going to get acquainted.' First she went to the wardrobe and took out a long, black silk nightdress which she put on – it covered her in a diaphanous, almost transparent film to the waist from where it fell in a very full skirt to the floor.
They are: Ella, a simple country girl from the local county of Dorset with an appetite for carnal pleasure that rivals anyone’s, Doris who served in Mistress Pickles’ house with us and came here to recuperate from the ague and asked if she might remain and Jemima, a foundling who started, much as I myself did, doing simple book keeping for us but who showed, as Maria put it, considerable potential. As we boarded the dogcart, driven by Torrance, Maria said, ‘Let us hope but one of the ladies who have suggested it actually visits us. Maria led me back to the dining room where Mrs Tansley and Jemima, who was rather to my surprise, naked sat in conversation.
I’d know you’re lying, it smells wonderful.’ We walked through to the kitchen, which is where I eat, and she looked at the meticulously set table. I didn’t notice last night.’ She smiled again, and did something with her hand through her hair that made my heart jump a bit. ‘We can do that later, I want to get to know you.’ I poured us both another glass of wine, then she led me by the hand to the sitting room where we sat facing each other, talking, discussing our lives, our families and our jobs. Her hands dropped mine and went to the buttons of my dress, which she deftly opened.
Tears came and I stormed away out into the garden, down a path until I found a seat and slumped down into it and closed my eyes and let the tears fall and the sobs come and wane. Tippi stood, patted my hand and said, ‘Come back inside when you’re feeling better.’ I knew I’d never feel better. ‘Have another cigarette and come back when you’re ready, OK?’ She leaned down to look closely into my eyes and I nodded again. I smoked another cigarette then, feeling extremely silly and embarrassed walked slowly back towards the hotel. Later, God alone knows what the time was, I was standing alone on the patio, smoking again and looking up at the full moon and feeling the warmth of the day ebbing.
I walked across to where Glenys was making doe eyes at a tall, well-dressed woman with hair drawn tightly back in a bun and thick glasses. Constance was now sitting properly in the armchair, her long legs crossed and she looked with a questioning eye at Stella. Occasionally Constance would look at me but not once did she speak to me directly until I had said something about the film, Titanic and how I thought it was such a dreadful waste of wonderful technology to create the amazing ship by computer and then set such a naff story in it. You have lovely little tits.’ She came close and her hand went to my breast and her nail traced its line under the material of my dress.
The barely black stockings that she knew were held up with suspenders and above them the thin silk thong that cupped her treasure and disappeared between her buttocks. Her Mistress’s hands stroked her silk covered arms and slipped leather cuffs around them, then, moving in front, she lifted them to clip them to the collar. A hand caressed her hair as she felt the bed drop as her Mistress put her weight beside her.. ‘My hand is between my thighs, where your face was this morning. She could feel the back of her Mistress’s hand as it cupped and fingered her pussy just above her. She felt it as the back of the hand occasionally touched her flesh, but she sensed it as if she was part of her mistress’s body.
We’re calling it an evening dress party, we decided people look better that way than if they just assume it’s a come as you are affair.’ I’d always liked Tippi in a detached sort of way. I still loved Jess and knew if she’d been there I’d have been unhappy, even though we’d spoken since her hen night and all seemed well. As we chatted happily, I felt her hand squeeze my arm a few times and occasionally she leant against me. Tippi is tall, slender and has lovely dark brown hair, which she was wearing that night loosely tied back. I wasn’t going to try to last night because, well, it’d have felt like I’d only asked you so I could.
She fussily arranged the hat and small veil and looked at me with what I can only call lust, so much so that Maria whispered, ‘Please, Miss Jenkins, remember that I have a proprietorial claim to our Madeleine.’ Her good-natured remark drew laughter and smiles from all, for our love was no secret. She had stroked it lasciviously and said, ‘I wonder if the lady-in-waiting is waiting for this, my love.’ We had giggled together for I knew that whether or not Lady Rampton was, I most assuredly was as, of course, did Maria. Lady Rampton invited Maria to join her on the chaise and occasionally I glanced in their direction but was anxious not to appear rude to any of the other guests.
Karen was a rather androgynous woman but, when the mood took her as it had that evening, she did what she called ‘femming up.’ For her that night it meant a leather skirt that fell to her calves and somehow emphasised the athletic legs as did the 3” heels. I sucked her tongue and fumbled to open her waistcoat but she pushed my hand away with a little growled ‘wait!’ We stayed like that for what seemed a wonderfully long time. I arched my back, my hands in her hair and opened my mouth, making little ‘oh, oh, oh’ noises until she pushed a finger deep into my arse and the floodgate burst.
"A painter should try not merely to create an accurate image of her subject but to demonstrate something of the subject’s character through her art or to reveal something that is not necessarily there but is suggested by the subject to the artist?" Martha always answered a question like that, with a sort of hesitant question-like statement. Isobel arranged Teri so that her right breast, the one furthest from us, was exposed, the left covered in the thin material of her dress. It wasn’t Teri I saw when my orgasm came, it was Isobel who reclined on the chaise, her breast exposed and her cunt, wet and open, that I saw.
She wrapped her hand around her cock and crooked a finger at Georgie who let me go, slowly pushed the sheet away from her body, rolled onto her knees facing Lorna and crawled to her. Lorna moved so that Georgie had to turn sideways on to me and I could see that it was deep, her lips almost touching Lorna’s pale hair. The bed dipped as Lorna sat next to me and she slipped her hand across my shoulders, under my hair just as Georgie had. We’ll call you.’ I turned, dismissed and went to the door where I turned, looking back to see them, Lorna now on her knees facing me, Georgie behind her, hips pumping.
In the soft light of the bedroom her pale hair contrasted with the blue of her hooded eyes and her lips curled into a smile. Generous I may be but at that moment I could feel my love button rubbing from between my lips on the soft silk of my knickers and I knew I could cum at the merest of intimate stimulus, words even, never mind touch. Slowly she moved so that her arm left my neck and she lowered her head to my belly and now her tongue did slip from between her lips and left a damp trail across me, around my navel and the cool of her tongue felt like the heat of a candle, so did it burn me.
I had a stiff gin, called a cab and changed into a pair of tight, black leather trousers and a white silk blouse, tidied my hair and face and grabbing a few things in case I stayed the night went to the front door. Mine did not follow immediately but I succumbed to it when she pushed me onto my back, pressed her tongue to my clit and slipped a finger in my pussy and my arse at the same moment which did something a bit special because I heard someone screaming, ‘oh god, fuck me!’ and the world went black.
‘It is very striking.’ She seemed to like the choice of words and her right hand covered the bracelet and turned it around her wrist to reveal the clasp, which was a tiny pair of handcuffs. I could almost accept her need for another woman but not in my bed and definitely not when I was likely to come home and find the two of them mouth to pussy in my sitting room. Greta smiled and placed her glass carefully on the small table beside her chair, stood and came to stand behind me. As we kissed, her free hand ran down over my breast and palmed my hardening nipple, then slipped inside my camisole and squeezed that nipple a little harder so that I made a small gasp into her mouth.
I don’t usually wear trousers but I have a pair in dark blue silk that are the only pair I’ve ever had that I really like and so, with a white silk blouse and black flats and my chestnut hair loose I had made an effort but not set out to show myself as available, if you get my drift? Her hand would stroke my arm to emphasis a point or she’d touch me, on my knee or my shoulder or, once, my face, when I was speaking. ‘So you stand there with my finger in your cunt and you let me tell you to come to the club with a ridiculous skirt on and a plug in your ass but you need to love me before you’ll let me cane you.
She and I watched closely as Emily delivered the long soliloquy word perfect, moving exactly as she’d been directed. That night in bed I ran my fingers over my breasts and between my legs and my mind’s eye was full of Emily. I stood in front of her, naked but for sheer panties that I’d chosen because on a summer night they were cool, loose-legged and like small shorts made of fine silk and had cost me a fortune. I pulled the straps off my shoulders for the second time that evening and with her eyes on mine and her hands on my breasts I continued to ride her thigh.
A great sadness overcame me when I led Madeleine and her lady to the room and as I left I was seething with anger. The following morning the Mistress allowed Madeleine to leave to visit her mother and return the following evening. I entered the salon, where most of the house ladies were still playing their childish games and Bella advised me, a little conspiratorially, that both Madeleine and Maria had retired. She shares with me, the Mistress and Madeleine too I feel sure a natural inclination to womankind and she has a great appetite. Her gentle remonstration humbled me and I apologised to Madeleine with genuine sincerity and was grateful for her returned smile of forgiveness.
Lauren said she thought she saw a man in a black coat but was also too scared to be observant. I’d agreed a budget with Lauren, far more than I reckoned would be actually necessary and told Harry so. I’d tried to call Angie a couple of times but her phone didn’t answer or go to mail. The second time, during coffee, I turned to look at her and saw she was wearing a rather nice smile. Jen took my free hand and guided it to her pussy and slowly she pushed my finger to join her own. What’s she doing there?’ I never asked Harry how he knew stuff like this and if I had he’d never have told me.
And so it was that the following evening, having got myself a bit dolled up in preparation for meeting her, I went to the pub to find her sitting at a quiet corner table, nursing a glass of white wine. I would have said something but during her last sentence her hand had slid inside the top of my dress and she had engaged in the process of playing with what she liked to call the ‘pointy bits on my knockers.’ I assumed our foray into ornithology had ended.
Her dress was a mix of spring flower colours, almost knee length and revealing long, well shaped legs in what looked to me like stockings and heels designed to make her dwarf everyone. I barely noticed that Polly was already kneeling, her face close to Vicky between her parted knees. ‘Enjoy, darling,’ said Debra as she began to fuck Polly really hard. Later, much later, we four lay on that huge bed, Vicky holding me felt so good, so rewarding. I looked in other rooms on that floor but did not find Vicky but then I heard a loud Debra laugh from downstairs and followed the noise down the stairs and to the kitchen.
About an hour later I went up to my room (also on the twelfth floor) and had a shower and changed into a clean pair of my best silk French knickers, black and transparent and incredibly expensive, black suspenders and stockings and a long, silk nightdress also black. Her other hand pulled my knickers aside and I felt the tip of her dildo between my legs, stroking between them, rubbing along the crease of my cunt. Knees slightly bent, she lifted me as she entered me and the dildo, working with the plug in my arse, started to send amazing feelings coursing through me. It had started with that hand under my skirt, fingers exploring my slit, my cunt, my arse while her tongue thrust into my mouth.
I’d worn a neat, fairly short pleated, check skirt in a mix of browns with a white silk camisole and a brown leather waistcoat; stockings, naturally and my brown knee boots with three inch heels that were good for the shape of my calves. I decided not to go back into the bar I’d just left so I made my way down the alley, cautious in case she’d had second thoughts, and out into the main drag. She almost flew in through the passenger door and leant forward to slide her hand onto my tit and kiss me firmly despite the fact that Jenny, her PA was with her and following close behind.
‘It says here, College, that the people of the west have a genetic propensity to eat fatty food and drink alcohol, whereas your Asian does not.’ As she said this she was in the process of putting vinegar on her scampi and chips in a basket meal at the same table we had occupied back then. ‘Indeed, and I am grateful you avoided a cheap innuendo in view of my choice of the word “position.” As you are aware my current employment is somewhat, shall we say, precarious.’ To describe her work, as runner to a virtually unemployable local artist, as precarious was a bit like saying that the Himalayas are somewhat hilly.
She smiled too and lifted my hand to my mouth, guiding that finger between my lips. Her hands explored me, cupping my breasts, rolling my nipples, stroking my flesh. Her hand lifted my free hand to her breast and she pulled my face down to hers, my mouth open and wet for her, as I was everywhere. I kissed it and tongued it, delighting in her murmur and then I was there, my face warm between her thighs, her hands running through my hair. I worked my tongue and fingers faster and deeper and she came, in a way that made her body undulate and lifted her pussy tighter to my face.
Maxine, whom I knew although we did not acknowledge the fact, was accompanied by two naked women, both tall, and slender, one blonde, the other brunette. I handed the cane to the blonde woman, removed my dress and sat again beside Alexandra, who pulled me so that I was astride her waist, the brunette woman’s head beneath me. Alexandra stood and took the blonde aside, her mouth close to her ear and she whispered something to her. Maxine de Vraie entered dressed much as I was in jeans, white shirt and dark glasses, her blonde hair concealed under a knitted cap. He married a French woman and I had found Maxine running her fetish brothel for the wealthy women like Alexandra who craved more than simple sexual gratification.
‘Your guest left a small present for you, my dear.’ This was Mistress Pickles speaking when later we met, I having been summonsed to her sitting room. I assured her I would return in good time and Jenkins followed me out of the room and closed the door. ‘My guests tend to a liking for the manly woman.’ She opened her gown and her two tiny breasts were revealed to me and I admired them, thinking too how free we were with our bodies in this house. ‘I should have thought, my dear Miss Jenkins, that the meaning was abundantly clear.’ Maria seemed not remotely put out by Jenkins’ arrival but I was trembling and all feelings of arousal had evaporated.
Her clit, nothing like Judith’s in terms of size was nonetheless apparent and I stroked it as I knew she loved and she licked drool and tears from my face. Sam whispered in my ear, ‘No matter what happens, concentrate on her and do not, under any circumstances, stop.’ I got to work, using my tongue to pleasure Judith and loving the sounds which were drawn from her by my dexterity. Respite followed as Sam’s hand caressed me, her fingers invaded me and my cries of pain were reduced to whimpers into Judith,.whose clit was now big enough for me to suck really well which I did for what seemed like a long, long time. Sam was straddling Judith’s thigh and kissing her and, with a wonderful groan of pleasure, she brought herself off.
I was astonished when a few moments later Delphine opened the door again, nodded at Libby and stood aside as Sylvia Tenant came in. The campaign would be run from the offices we had used before and I’d have to make arrangements to ensure we’d swept for listening devices, sorted phones, agreed code words for people, sorted the physical security and on and on it went. Babs was going to have a long Thursday, cajoling voters, stirring up the staff and generally running around like a blue-arsed fly. Libby later told me she’d learned that the paper he’d chosen was the one that actually wrote, “People of real talent, like Adrian Cavendish, are sometimes wasted in posts like his.
Irina showed no sign of embarrassment as I pulled my dress up and my knickers down and she gently removed the plug and thanked me. She led me to a low sofa and we sat, sipping our drinks and she asked if my quarters were adequate, was the dress mine or from the ship’s wardrobe, was Irina attentive? Obediently, so unlike me, I left her to find Irina waiting outside the room and ready to lead me back to my cabin. The communicating door opened and Mira entered my sitting room. ‘Good girl,’ was all she said then placed her hands on my waist and pressed gently down so that my wet pussy allowed her to enter me.
I looked down as I hung my bag from the hook in front of me and saw she was wearing leather trousers, tight and shiny and dark blue. She opened her yellow jacket and I saw her breasts clearly through what looked like a body stocking. In a sitting room with deep leather chairs, soft light and the soothing music, Lorna handed me a glass. She took the glass from my hand, placed it on a nearby table then started undoing my dress buttons. So, instead of asking, I took a drink from my glass and looked into her eyes. She stood, her dress hanging from the dildo and looked at me, her eyes sending a clear message.
The centre of the room is dominated by a long oak table and my bum was against as Vicky was fucking me, her hands on m shoulders. I put my arms around her neck and kissed her fervently, wanting her to know that I was loving her and her new friend. The other guests were a dowdy woman of about 50, Lisa, with a small Asian companion called Mei who had long black hair to her arse over a red, mandarin collared dress that was slit up to her naked thigh. Vick’s was OK until the lovely Mei showed her charms but, well, it rather set one’s juices flowing.’ Her hand lifted my dress and she stroked between my lips.
She was Lilly’s Deputy Head Girl at school and so named because she had teeth like Uncle Bernard’s Harry and, as Lilly had once said, could eat a carrot through a tennis racket. ‘As to the acting bit, well, Dad just said, “Good luck with that,” meaning, I think, that the fact I had been in a few school productions and could remember my lines wasn’t the firmest basis for a career decision.’ My heart almost sang when, as I lay across her breasts, my hair over her and her hands on me, she said, ‘I think we need to spend more time together, don’t you?’ I hoped my nod was enough and so it seemed to be because she patted my hair.
I am to tell you that you and Bella must be ready to leave as soon as the carriage arrives, that you are to accept the instructions of the first lady you meet at the house as if she were your Mistress. One such involved a green-baize covered table at one end of which was large revolving wheel set horizontally and a woman dressed as we were threw a small ball into it as it turned. The ladies wore fine gowns but some had exposed their breasts and opened their skirts and would occasionally fondle each other most intimately. I returned to the main room and saw Bella, her dress open, with one woman kneeling beneath her and feasting upon her, another standing behind her and seemingly kissing her neck while fondling her breasts.
And so it was that Saturday that I was leaning against the back of a large sofa clinging to a glass of wine which was by no means my first of the evening and rather wishing I could have taken my ex to the cleaners in similar fashion when an Indian woman of about forty five years and wearing a stunning saree of blues, reds and golds wandered past. She led me up the wide staircase to a landing and we wandered along it until she opened a door and closed it again, but not before we had both glimpsed Lilly astride a pair of male legs with trousers at the ankles and Lilly’s dress lifted just enough for us to see her bum.
‘Do you know each other?’ Emma was asking Lauren and patting the Minister’s hand. Sandra leant back and watched as Emma took a feeldoe from her bag and slowly worked it into herself, the phallic end pointing directly at Sandra’s face. She came to stand before me again and this time she stroked herself before my eyes, her fingers opening her lips so I could see the shining that was her moisture, the physical manifestation of her arousal. And then she was in front of me again and this time she kissed my mouth and licked my tears from my cheeks and, her hand moving at her core, she came. Lauren’s naked body moved back a little and she took my hands and carefully unbuttoned the cuffs of my open blouse.
I reached down to recover it and when my hand came up, there, between my fingers and the pen, were Lauren’s knickers, the pair she had been wearing when we made love here on this sofa. I made my way home and stripped off the work clothes and sat at my dressing table and looked at myself in the mirror. I pulled on my long coat and took one look in the mirror and smiled at myself. Lauren stood at the far end of the bar wearing a long black dress that was suspended on her shoulders by tiny thread-like straps and which fell from there to the floor in a glimmering cascade of black silk, decorated with a thin silver embellishment at the hem.
Her hands left my back and returned to my cheeks and she lifted me slowly to kiss me again then pushed me away and pulled the blouse down my arms until it came off and I was exposed. It was small but heavy and she pressed gently and worked it slowly until the widest part gave me a little fire and then I closed around it I felt it settle in me. She let me work my tongue for her pleasure for a while then pulled me up to like beside her and she kissed me again and slipped her hand between my legs and began to finger my now wet pussy.
I thanked her profusely and said that if she and her husband would care to come down in say forty-five minutes, I’d have opened a bottle of wine and would love to meet them properly. There’s one high class dimwit who sometimes joins us, and she says “abso-fucking-lutely” about three times a minute and it drives me to distraction.’ I laughed and nodded, knowing the girl and what she meant. On Friday night, the first at the end of a week in the new job, I definitely needed a drink and went out with Kate and Ali and the rest. She leant to kiss it, then sucked it slowly and for a long time while her free hand stroked my hair and face.
I kissed her clitoris and left her lying spread-eagled on the bed, pulled my dress over my naked body and returned to my room. Angela smiled a wicked grin and said, ‘I expect her,’ here she looked at her watch, a Cartier of course, ‘at midnight.’ She stood up, picked up her bag and without a backward glance left me to sign the bill. With my free hand I squeezed a nipple and, lifting my other leg up onto the arm of the chair and slowly, oh, so slowly, lifted the nightdress so I was fully exposed to her and began first to stroke my pussy and then to finger myself, spreading myself so she could see everything.
She wore little makeup, and a long, pale blue dress that covered one shoulder and fell like a sheath down over her slender frame with a slit up the left hand side. She was talking to Gina when I got back to her so without interrupting them, I handed her the glass and moved to step away but she restrained me by putting her hand on my shoulder although her eyes never left Gina as she did so. Somehow she turned me and her mouth was on my shoulder and her hands around me to cover my breasts then liberate them and hold them, squeezing my nipples. I let my hands find the strap over the shoulder of her dress and ease it aside and her two breasts were suddenly there, visible, the nipples hard and erect – dark against the pale skin.
Helen might be almost 40 but she had the body of a twenty year old and played like a pro but Jonathan was known for being unable to take his eyes of Lola and she was dressed to win. I’d expected a leer or an aside but all I got was the briefest of kisses and I was alone with Helen who sat in her athletic way in the seat vacated by Eva, poured the wine and handed me a glass. I looked up into her eyes and laughed with her and her hand suddenly made the last dash up my thigh to cup my pussy in the soft silk knickers I had worn in the hope that she’d find them, like them and invade them.
‘Get down there and inspect the damage.’ She pushed the top of my head and I went down under the duvet and pulled her pyjama trousers down and licked her, cleaned her, loved her. It was also later that I discovered Victoria knew and she, for some reason, got in touch about a month after the inevitable heartbreak, took me out to dinner and told me to ‘forget the bitch.’ She took my mind of it by fucking me rather energetically in my flat after dinner. I didn’t know there were tears on my cheeks until she wiped them away, turning my face to hers.
I looked away when she turned back to glance at me as she waited for our drinks and then she returned, placed the glasses on the table and sinuously coiled herself back into her seat. I wanted to move in close and feel her body against me but she put her hands on my shoulders and kept me at arm’s length. Her hands never left my breasts as I unzipped the dropped the skirt but then she turned me round and our third kiss started. She became urgent, sliding her hand into my panties and curling her finger into my now soaking pussy and she made no attempt to stop me from enjoying the feel of her skin, caressing her as our kiss continued.
Katherine Eleanor Porter-Haynes had been the product of a woman of high English birth and an American philanthropist whose vast wealth had derived from the slave-trading of earlier English generations and tobacco growing thereafter. The actress, Sally Horne, may have been her lover but her partner in crime was another woman, American and of extraordinary wealth but she lacked Katherine’s beauty. Jay had said in bed one night after I had been introduced to Alicia that the latter would shag the entire England Rugby team before going out looking for a man. I did not know how Alicia communicated with our controllers but it was on the third day that she told me that the vile Georgia Pine had arrived at the home Porter-Haynes and her lover maintained on Palm Island.
In the morning I showered and dressed for work, went down to the kitchen not knowing if I should take her tea as normal or wait. The decision was taken from me when she appeared in the doorway, she was wearing a long, black silk nightdress and looked utterly gorgeous although I thought her eyes looked a little puffy as I knew mine were. The dildo slipped out of me and I thought she was leaving but then I felt her mouth on me and her tongue lashed at me until I came for the first time since the morning of that awful Wednesday and my heart soared as I slumped, exhausted.
A hand cupped my left breast and her palm caressed my hard nipple which strained against the dress. Her free hand rose from her side to cup her own breast, to ease the material aside and expose it to me, her nipple almost black in the failing light. I was becoming close to orgasm and she must have realised because she pushed me gently off her leg and stood to remove her own dress and that beautiful body, naked save for shoes and white silk panties edged with exquisite lace was revealed. Slowly she knelt and pressed her face to my knickers and she sucked them, tasting my wet as her hands caressed my arse.
I had grown to find her increasingly desirable and half-turned to kiss her but she merely pulled the laces even tighter and said, ‘Tonight you belong to another.’ She sounded angry and I obediently stood in silence as she slipped a fine petticoat down over my undergarments but left my breasts quite naked. Grace elegantly knelt before Bella’s cunny and Marie swayed behind Bella and although one could not clearly see I suspect she entered Bella as Grace buried her face between her legs, her hands reaching up to grasp and gently pull the chain which glistened between her breasts.
I still smile when I recall that after a long, passionate kiss, a hand up my kilt (yes, I really was wearing a kilt, God forgive me) and a finger where no straight friend should put it she’d disengaged and said, ‘Now I see why you’re a dyke. ‘Yes. Look, I’m going out into the country to buy myself a wonderfully indulgent Sunday lunch and I thought I might persuade the lovely Imo to come too? Time for Vee to start being Vee and she’d rather like to start with you, Imo. I mean look at you.
Lauren looked at her breasts moving slowly up and down in time with her breathing as she slept and felt that her Sunday morning might be just as rewarding as her Saturday night had been. Standing face to face, they kissed, Lauren running her hands over the German’s silk clad body while Ava guided her dildo between the tall Englishwoman’s thighs, running it between her lips. Lauren felt a need to push back but Ava held her still, then slowly withdrew and stopped just before the dildo was out. Lauren began to repeat the word ‘fuck’ just as she had before but this time there was no let up, no reduction in the intensity of the relentless pounding and it was Lauren’s obvious, wet and noisy climax that sparked Ava’s.
You will have a wonderful day together and much pleasure, I know.’ As she spoke so she stood and advanced on me to give me a warm kiss on my mouth. ‘Now, Kitty, it is time for you to be a tourist and me to be a guide I think.’ I went to her and she kissed my mouth very deeply, her hands roaming under my dress at my arse. Greta explained, ‘We will need the car for some part of our day so I have told my girl to follow us.’ She looked at me, smiling. Her hand moved to cover my mouth and a finger entered there too and she said, “Give I to me, Kitty, give me your pleasure.’
Sitting up and still in that beautiful nightgown, Mira took the phone from Ivanova and spoke. Ivanova sat in a chair at the end of the bed and looked at me, smiling like a cat. Mira does not like to be kept waiting.’ She did not leave the chair and when I got out of bed to shower and dress she remained there, studying me, her hand under her skirt lasciviously and openly stroking her pussy. The bed was covered in dramatic red spreads, similar in colour to her dress and looked like silk. I rolled those beautiful nipples between my fingers and felt her hands slide up my body to do the same to me.
She indicated I should lie down and she stood for a few moments, looking at me and touching her own cunny, slowly opening herself and entering herself there. Moments later, servants arrived carrying ewers of hot water and Jenkins opened the door to a side room wherein stood a tub. She was working herself into a gentle frenzy and moments later her head went back, her eyes closed and she let forth a gentle, keening noise as she reached her ‘petit mort.’ Mine did not arrive with hers, in fact as I watched the pleasure course through her, my arousal subsided and I felt a warm tenderness toward her.
Donna had been invited to a prestigious London art gallery to join the opening of an exhibition by an artist she had shown some months before. I wore a black cocktail dress, one of her favourites and she wore mid-blue trousers and a cream silk camisole and looked far more feminine than she normally does. ‘This is College,’ said Donna, her arm sliding deliciously possessively around my waist. I stole a look over my shoulder and saw Donna watching me, her eyes smiling. ‘Sorry Jules,’ said Donna, ‘We’d love to but I have to get College home to bed. As my tongue slipped between her lips and just before it pressed into her tunnel of love, Donna said, ‘You are about to enter Box.’
Sam arrived a little early and wore a pair of wonderfully tight, black leather trousers and a white silk blouse under a long, grey riding coat. Her kisses and her fingers ensured my body was ready for her when she gently turned me around to face the wall and, still dressed, slipped her dildo up into me, her hands covering my breasts and her mouth nuzzling into the long, chestnut hair that fell down over my shoulders. There was the usual flummery as they fussed over the table until Judith said with a calm air of command, ‘Leave it at that boys, we want to discuss business.’ She slipped them a tip discreetly and they left, almost bowing their way out of the room.
I was now kneeling, my belly touching her knees and she pulled my head close to the silk of her blouse. Her hands stroked around me and came to my breasts, lifting them and pulling my nipples. I felt her hand again, covering a clamped nipple, pulling it so the fire burned. She must have fixed the clamp to something, because the tension remained but she moved to stand behind me again and I felt her hands roaming over my buttocks, tracing the line of my suspenders and stroking the backs of my legs. Left with the wet feeling, I waited for the touch of the head of the plug which I knew was to follow.
She was beautifully dressed in her dark suit and white silk shirt – ‘It’s for the punters, College, the boss says they like to see us “glammed up” for shows.’ She had arrived at my home thus attired and I, not expecting it to be an occasion for an evening dress, had said that I should change into something more suitable. To say she is sexually active would be something like saying that Colonel Gadaffi isn’t a nice chap.’ I giggled and shifted so that her hand could do more easily what she was trying to do with it.
‘This very morning, my dear Jenkins admitted to my sitting room her Ladyship’s secretary, Lady Broadmoor. Once the musicians have left and assuming Lady Chatterton’s guests wish it the normal entertainments of this house will follow. We stood in a reception line and then Clorinda, one of the more recent arrivals in the household and who was dressed as a footman, opened the large double doors of the room and Lady Chatterton and her bride entered, followed by some twenty other ladies. Two curtains at one end of the room parted and to the strains of the household’s harpist who was concealed behind a screen, a woman could be seen standing on the small dais, dressed in the manner of Salome.
Her finger pressed a little and then I felt myself rise out of my body and look down to see myself across her, back slightly arched and I heard someone making a wailing noise and realised it was me, then I was back in my body and my back was arching more and my mouth was open in a silent scream and then I shuddered and then I went into a paroxysm and then the scream came but it wasn’t a scream it was a groan, followed by a moan, followed by a cry of utter rapture. Later still, she said, ‘If I am going to stay here, we will have to have an understanding.’ I looked up at her as I lay, sated, in her lap, her hand gently resting on my naked breast.
Let us go into the dark night.’ She took my hand and led me out to the car where Eva stood holding firt Greta’s door and then mine. She placed cuffs at each wrist and ankle then slowly turned the girl so she faced the chair and, with her chains, secured her to it, legs wide apart. The cane was handed to Lise who stroked it over the back of the girl chained to the chair. ‘So, my English woman,’ Greta said eventually, her face a little flushed, ‘does Lise not perform well?’ ‘You were amazing, Miss Lise.’ She smiled and kissed Greta before leaving us to go and wantonly kiss and touch the girl still sitting on that hard wooden chair.
Mistress Pickles’ house was, I was to discover, a salon for ladies who, like me and Mrs Pickles herself, favoured the sexual intimacy of other women. I attended upon her with more than physical pleasure, for I felt a kind of love for the woman who had taken me from my earlier life. This loyalty was in turn rewarded by more responsibility until the day dawned when she introduced me to the secrets of her household, had me assume the clothing and position of butler and sent me to a voice teacher for improvement. It was in the year that His Majesty King George the third ascended the throne that I was instructed to educate Maude in the ways of woman love.
There followed an hour of hectic learning: files are here, contact numbers here, silversmiths here, lav here and you have to pump the handle or it won’t work, the bank manager is a bastard, I like assam tea and don’t tell me a PA doesn’t make tea or you’re fired, I’m gay so don’t try match making, never NEVER give me chocolate or I’ll become hyperactive and attempt to rape you, I’m off to a meeting, best of luck. It was a slowly developing kiss; one that starts as a gentle brushing of lips then, contact never lost, gathers impetus as my mouth, already open as she had remarked, felt the ingress of her tongue.
‘However, for me the pleasure of a woman rendered helpless and entirely available to me is all I desire.' She took the curious leather ball with its ribbons and to my astonishment she lifted her gown as she sat and placed it deep within her undergarments. She continued to lick and kiss the ball as she very slowly unhooked and unbuttoned the top of my gown until it fell open to reveal my breasts. ‘In time, perhaps.' She lifted her skirts and spread her legs wide and, opening the gusset of her fine silk pantaloons, revealed her dark triangle of hair and spread her nether lips. ‘Well, Madeleine,’ Jenkins said quietly, ‘it seems your lady had her pleasure.’ She bent over me and kissed me warmly, her hand running freely over me.
I said that, yes, I’d love a drink and picked up my large portfolio bag and coat and followed her down the stairs from the art class. Isobel was, as she often was, exploring the erotic and had posed her on her knees, looking over her shoulder, her knees spread and wearing only a gauzy slip. She was so tall and slender – almost coltish long legs, and her face was an artist’s delight with its contrasts of dark hair, pale skin, clear white eyes with dark blue pupils. The new suspender belt looked lovely I thought and a couple of times before I left I lifted my dress to see what Teri might see if the fantasy that I’d run through my mind that morning in bed came to fruition.
Alexandra Destovsky lived a life of enormous wealth despite her sister having assumed control of their father’s business interests. Her short cut, blonde, almost silver hair contrasted with deep red lipstick which matched the red in her dress which covered only one shoulder. She wore no jewellery except a pair of drop earrings studded with diamonds, a bracelet of silver in the form of a bull whip curling around her wrist – a sign of her membership of an exclusive fetish club in the 6eme arrondissement close to her lavishly appointed townhouse and the Gascogne itself. Alexandra’s hand slithered over my thigh, enjoying, it seemed, the feel of the silk of my dress and the stocking beneath. I followed Alexandra through a heavy oak door to another room like a lounge bar.
How could you say this now?’ Tears came and I stormed away out into the garden, down a path until I found a seat and slumped down into it and closed my eyes and let the tears fall and the sobs come and wane. I knew at the same time that she never would but nobody came close, nobody else mattered in that way. I smoked another cigarette then, feeling extremely silly and embarrassed walked slowly back towards the hotel. Later, God alone knows what the time was, I was standing alone on the patio, smoking again and looking up at the full moon and feeling the warmth of the day ebbing.
This would not normally arouse my indignation but on this occasion I was surprised because Nellie was holding the front of her skirt raised above her waist and Donna was staring intently at the revealed parts. Donna enquired as to the nature of the proposal and Nellie, somewhat miffed, said, ‘To marry me, you nitwit.’ She had apparently been overwhelmed. ‘Know what, College, I think we’ll have one last dance since they seem to be playing something more to your liking, and then we’ll go home and engage in some of our more disgusting practices.’ She turned her head to David, her arms still around me.
So she’s asked you to tell me so that if I don’t want it there’s no loss of face for either of us.” She put her glass down and stood, moving behind me, she ran her hands down from my shoulders to my nipples which she held a little tightly. I’d mentioned my relationship with Libby to the PM but she’d simply said, “I know,” and carried on. “I understand, Prime Minister, that Libby Manning is in a relationship with a senior member of your staff, your Deputy Chief of Staff in fact.” Of course I receive advice but in this particular case my Deputy Chief of Staff quite rightly first, reminded me of her relationship with Libby and second, took no part in her selection.
During the journey Portia, who was about eight years older than my twenty-two, explained that her mother, Lady Carlton had been widowed about six years before and had stayed in the family home but had recently said there’d been a change in her circumstances. She licked my mouth and then said, “I think the time has come, Third Officer, for your First Officer to have a little lip service.” I took my uniform off (I’d worn it with a borrowed duffel coat for the walk) and she said, "take all the rest off, darling, your commanding officer requires you naked." We spent a hilarious hour measuring and stitching and kissing and finally, it sort of fitted me at least to the extent that I could walk without tripping over it.