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Friday, 31 August 2018

In the Heat of the Night

From Janus 95 by Marianne Hamilton
Claire lit another cigarette and stared out of the window. It was such a beautiful day, definitely too nice a day to be stuck in a stuffy office. The view was not a picturesque one, only city rooftops and scaffolding, but the sunshine and blue sky made it appear so inviting. Another hour to go and then it would be time for lunch. Claire could hardly wait to get some fresh air.
She turned back to her desk and tapped away at her keyboard. She really enjoyed her job at the insurance company but when summer came along she just longed to be out getting a tan. Not that it took much for Claire to get a tan: her dark complexion needed only a couple of days in the sun to look positively foreign, though she was a born and bred Londoner. Her long brown wavy hair, prominent Roman nose and bright green eyes often caused her to be mistaken for an Italian tourist, but Claire didn’t mind being noticed for whatever reason. She loved to get wolf-whistles from builders and winks from taxi drivers and compliments from saucy waiters. She feasted on male acknowledgement of her beauty, and it was hardly surpris­ing that such tributes came thick and fast considering the tiny clinging T-shirt dresses she squeezed on to her 5’8” frame. At 24 years of age she was not just an amazingly pretty face and sexy body but a girl who really had her head together and knew what she wanted from life.
‘Hi Michael, I’m leaving now and I’ll see you in a minute.’ Claire stood up from her typist’s swivel chair as she replaced the receiver. Michael was a sweet guy who worked at the newsagents just across the street from the insurance giant. She had been using the shop for nearly a year and they had become friendly enough to have lunch together occasionally. Claire liked Michael very much, although all she had managed to get from him so far was a kiss on the cheek. She was sure he was scared of her glamorous sophistication and lush, ripe sensuality. Still, Michael was a quiet guy of twenty and Claire appreciated his company probably far more than he knew.
Claire stood in the high-speed lift adjusting her dress a little. The doors parted and her long legs strode down the corridor, heels clicking assertively on the shiny tiled floor. Then finally she was out of the building. The brightness of the sun made her rummage in her handbag in search of her sunglasses, and she looked even more exotic when she put them on. She crossed the street just as Michael was coming out of the newsagents, his bright blue eyes gleaming at her in the sunshine.
‘Hello, usual place?’ Michael said, cocking his head towards the pub.
‘Yeah, we can sit in the garden,’ Claire answered.
They turned the corner and pushed their way through the crowd into the pub, then walked straight through to the garden. There were no seats free so Claire sat down on the grass in the sun. Michael returned to the bar to get the drinks and Claire watched him as he went, flicking her dark hair back off her face. She felt herself relax as her skin soaked up the sunshine, happy to be in her true element.
‘There you go,’ said Michael, awakening Claire from her tropical daydream and handing her a glass of white wine and soda. Michael was so young and fresh, it always excited Claire to be seen with him. His strong masculine physique turned girls’ heads wherever he went, but it was also his great sense of humour and caring personality that made him so attractive. Michael sat beside her on the grass and exchanged a few words and glances with people he knew. Claire’s eyes searched his body, hidden behind her opaque shades. Dressed in a tight white T-shirt, jeans and trainers, he oozed sex appeal. He was definitely the kind of guy you expected to find in a health club, not a newsagents.
After another couple of drinks and a cheese salad sandwich it was time to return to the dullness of the office. Claire stood outside the newsagents and watched as Michael walked back inside. She really didn’t want to go back in to the office, but trundled along anyway. Once inside she ploughed on with her work, trying to make the day go as fast as possible. Finally there was a buzz of flurried commotion as people started to put on their jackets and leave for the hustle and bustle of the rush-hour. Slowly Claire cleared her desk and prepared herself for the journey home.
Inside her small but cosy flat she kicked off her heels, poured herself a glass of wine and lounged on the sofa. She played with the TV controls, flicking from channel to channel and settling for the news. It was a Friday night and Claire felt like doing something exciting, but she had no inspiration and no energy even to move from her safe and comfortable sofa. As she stared at the television not really hearing a word, the telephone rang. With a sigh she rose and moved to the hall. ‘Hello,’ she murmured.
‘Hi, it’s Michael,’ she heard. ‘I haven’t disturbed you, have I?’
‘Oh no, of course not. I was trying to drum up enough energy to take a bath!’
‘Have you any plans for tonight? I’m at a bit of a loose end and wondered whether you fancy coming for a drink,’ said Michael in a bright and jolly voice. Claire thought for just a second and then agreed, arranging for him to pick her up at around nine.
Claire soaked in a hot bath, wallowing in the foamy bubbles. She almost fell asleep but at last managed to climb out, wrapped herself in a large towel and returned to the lounge. She poured herself some more wine and pondered on the thought of Michael actually asking her out. Never before had he asked her for more than a lunchtime drink or sandwich, and he had never made a pass at her. Was this the moment of truth? Had he finally noticed that she had been flirting with him all this time? Had the penny dropped that she wouldn’t mind being more than friends? Well, she thought, it’s taken him long enough.
While dressing, Claire flaunted herself to the mirror. She looked good and she knew it. The long black dress she had chosen was split up her thigh on one side. She threw on some pearls and black suede heels and was ready. She sat waiting in anticipation, flicking her fingertips over the tawse which lay ornamentally on a small black coffee table beside the sofa.
A car pulled up outside and Claire rushed to the window to see if it was Michael. It was. He was wearing a colourful cotton shirt and black trousers and shoes, his baby-fine blonde hair cropped short into the back of his neck. As she watched him walking up the path she realised he really did look only 20 years old. She waved after noticing he had seen her looking, and went to the door. ‘Hi,’ she said, smiling seductively as she ushered him inside. I’ll just get my bag and we’ll be off.’
They drove in Michael’s new dark blue Escort to a wine bar about twenty minutes away. It was quite full but they managed to get a table near the window looking out on to the main street. Claire could not help but cross her legs, with that split showing off one of her silken brown thighs. She kept noticing Michael’s eyes drop to her legs, and that brought out the tease in her. They made polite conversation about family and work, and time crept by. Then, all of a sudden, out of the blue Claire said, ‘Do you find me attractive enough to want to sleep with me?’ She could hardly believe her own ears when she heard what she was saying, but it was a combination of red wine and lust that made her say it. She felt hot to have put him on the spot.
Michael stared for a moment and the atmosphere grew slightly tense. Then, rather nervously, he answered, ‘I would certainly sleep with you, given the opportunity.’
Claire’s mind raced. Was this the right way to her heart’s desire or not? She excused herself from the table to use the bathroom and to clear her head and plan her next move.
Claire returned to the table seeing only Michael as she eased herself through the crowded wine bar. She knew from the butterflies deep in her stomach that the time was right. ‘I really do like you, Michael, but I have something to tell you,’ she said, placing her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hands. Michael leaned forward all ears and Claire sensed an inner strength in him that she had not noticed before. Claire knew that the moment had come to be frank with him, and now the butterflies were whirling in her tummy. ‘I only like domineering men, Michael. Do you think you can accommodate my needs?’
That said, Claire relaxed back into her chair and waited expectantly for an answer or some kind of reaction.
‘Shall we go straight to your place or would you like another drink?’ Michael replied, smiling broadly as if he already knew the answer. He rose from his chair and made his way to the bar, bill and money in hand. There he stood patiently waiting for one of the busy bar staff to notice that he was not invisible. Claire very impatiently shouted across the bar, ‘Hey! Do you want to be paid or not?’ A young barmaid turned and glared at her and took the bill and money from Michael. After collecting his change Michael looked slightly embarrassed, but then laughed and headed for the door. Claire followed, giving a quick smirk at the bar as she left. Her bottom wiggled in the tight dress as they headed for his car. The journey was tense and exciting; the silence was deafening. Claire ran her fingers up and down the back of his neck and watched every move he made as he drove. Michael liked Claire, in fact he liked her a lot, but had always found her somewhat unapproachable. Now things were different. He had an opportunity and boy, was he going to make the most of it!
Once inside she escorted him into the lounge and sat him down beside the coffee table. She grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses from the kitchen and swiftly returned, telling Michael to make himself at home while she made herself more comfortable.
Claire took a small bag from the bedroom and locked herself in the safety of her bathroom. She could hear her heart beating and could hardly breathe. She removed her dress, watching herself carefully in the mirror. She stood in only her high-heeled shoes, smoothing her hands over the inviting sight she saw. Had Michael noticed the tawse yet? Surely he had. She gasped at the thought. Was he planning to deal with her severely?
She felt her moistness and searched deeply with her delicate fingers. Her thoughts were racing far too fast for her to catch up with them. She tenderly touched the end of her tongue with her forefinger and traced an imaginary line around her lips. Her hand slid down the side of her neck nervously on to her breast. The nipple felt hard as she lightly fondled it as if it were made of porcelain. Then, as passion and anticipation tingled in her bottom, she cupped her hand and squeezed her breast firmly. She arched her back and caressed herself. Her skin had become clammy, her breathing hard and fast, her eyes closed, her mind a million miles away…
Realising that too much time had passed, Claire gazed at herself guiltily in the mirror and straightened from the slumped position she had assumed against the bathroom wall. She washed frantically and opened the bag, removing a cream suspender belt, stockings and a silk G-string. She started to put them on, watching herself as she dressed. Her nipples had swollen to the utmost and were feeling incredibly sensitive. The cream silk material made her skin look a beautiful, inviting colour. She knew Michael would not be able to resist her. She touched her full, curvy bottom and the flesh was smooth and firm.
She crept into the lounge where Michael had poured some wine for them both and now stood facing the curtained window. If he could only picture the scene behind him…
‘Michael, I’m ready said Claire in a meek voice. He turned to face her, holding the twin-tailed leather tawse he had taken from the coffee table. ‘Is this what you want?’ he asked in a tone that unnerved Claire. She walked towards him for some kind of affection, but he pushed her to one side.
‘Kneel on the chair!’ Michael said abruptly, pulling her towards it. Claire’s heart was pounding as she knelt on the seat of the armchair with her elbows on its back and her amazing bum pushed out towards him, the thin silk thong separating her bare cheeks. She knew that this was what she wanted but still had that same uneasy, almost queasy feeling she always got at this point.
Michael looked at the beauty that knelt before him, and gasped. This was the sight he had hoped for so long that he might see. He had had no idea that she enjoyed spanking. Himself, he had experienced it only once before, and more playfully than in earnest. Evidently, Claire’s need for the smarting leather was of a different order to that of the girl who once slapped his buttocks while they were making love, whose smacks he had happily returned. But for the prize that was to come — sex with his dream girl — he would give all he had to please her.
As he fumbled with the tawse, Michael thought of all those times he had un­dressed Claire with his eyes. He recalled how often he had indulged in erotic fan­tasies about her. He had always seen her as unattainable. Why hadn’t he asked her out before? Why did her domineering, upfront character put him off so?
Well, now that he had the whole thing under control, he knew what he wanted from her. He wanted her body. He wanted her mind to think of him and only him. Maybe it was just that old male ego, but Claire was a special catch, really special. His heart seemed to miss a beat, he wanted to reach out and touch her, feel her flesh, make contact. But catching himself tapping the tip of the tawse on the palm of his hand, he knew what must be done.
Michael placed his left hand firmly on the small of Claire’s back. She gave a small sigh of relief, feeling that he had made her wait for such a long time. No words, no actions, only her facing the wall behind the chair, waiting. Not daring to turn round to see what Michael was doing.
Michael lifted the tawse up, then it came swooping down.
A loud crack echoed through the room as leather met flesh. Claire felt every muscle in her body tighten. Then, without allowing her to absorb the sensations, another stroke came crashing down. Her bottom began to wriggle. She knew she had to slow him down, make him under­stand her need to come to terms with her pain and savour it. The sting was ferocious.
That’s for embarrassing you in the wine bar!’ Claire blurted out the words as she tried to catch her breath. She turned her head and looked at Michael’s face. He was smiling mischievously as he traced his finger over the red mark he had already imparted to her cheeks. The material she clung to on the back of the chair suddenly seemed to become damp and slippery and full of static electricity as her palms grew sticky from the muggy night air and the intensity of the moment. She turned to face the wall and threw her head back as the tawse came down for the third time, and then the fourth time! Michael paused again as if to admire his work and watch her reaction.
‘That’s for flirting with the guys in the pub…’ Claire said in a very girlish voice.
The next snaps of the leather tails biting her bottom sent pain shooting through her whole body. Underlying the hot smarting came waves of sensual throbbing that were very sexual for Claire, but still a sharp pain remained which made her clench her teeth and screw up her face with every stroke she took. As the tawse repeatedly cracked down on her supple cheeks, she seemed to be projected into another state where each minute was like an hour and each fiery moment lasted an age and a half. Gradually, as the strapping progressed, the burning fury in Claire’s bottom melted to a numbness beyond pain and her secondary feelings grew stronger. The sensation was so exhilarating and excitement overcame her.
She was ashamed. She felt that Michael could see her excitement glistening forth, drawn out of her by his corrective wrath. Even if he couldn’t, he surely must have sensed what was happening to her. She turned to look at him again and saw a bead of sweat roll down his forehead, making him blink as it ran into his eye. She was impressed by the look of intense concentration on his face as he dealt with her bottom. And… could it be so?… his own excitement from strapping her so determinedly.
‘Face the wall!’ he shouted in a stern voice, and Claire loved his power to command her. The tawse rose and fell twice more with great force and then Michael touched her, his fingers feeling sharp as he ran them over her hot marks. Claire gripped tightly on to the back of the chair, not daring to turn her head. She waited, wishing she could see what he was doing, then heard him take a sip of wine. She relaxed her body momentarily, and the next pain caught her unawares. It was burning.
‘That’s for teasing me all this time!’ Michael called out, as if this were now his game that he was playing. The tawse whipped down into Claire’s firm bottom. ‘And that’s for making me lust over you the way I do.’ For the very first time since Claire had met Michael, she realised what feelings he had for her. Turning to look over her shoulder, breaking his order, she searched deep into his stunning blue eyes, hoping not to find any real emotions within herself. Commitment just wasn’t her style.
Her thoughts were shattered as the tawse came smashing down on her now very tender buttocks. She squeezed her cheeks tight and then relaxed again, the harsh pain of the tawse now gone but the throbbing and heat more intense. Twice more the tawse came down with a loud crack, and Michael yelled, ‘And that’s for having such a beautiful body!’
He fell to his knees and kissed her bottom delicately. Claire felt hot all over and she closed her eyes as though to soak up every inch of the heat that spread through her limbs, welling up as an intense fire where her legs met. Claire needed his body desperately to complete the work that the tawse had done. She turned to look at him and said, ‘I’m yours, Michael. Please take me.’
Michael stood up and led Claire to the sweet-smelling bedroom. He laid her tenderly on the cool pink bedspread and gently removed her G-string, as if unwrapping a precious gift. He began to kiss her all over, and as her excitement mounted higher and higher Claire very much hoped that Michael would prove as virile a lover as he looked and felt. He would need the stamina of a stallion to do justice to all the cravings he had awakened in her with the biting leather, and she knew she couldn’t handle any disappointment now.
Claire felt great pride in achieving her youngest conquest yet. She had the ridiculous thought: He’s only 20, and he’s going to make me come again. But she had other thoughts as well. Maybe tomorrow she would have a new subject to think about. As Michael ravenously caressed and possessed her body and she greedily enjoyed him, Claire’s eyes stayed closed and her mind wandered. Jonathan worked in her office, he was slightly older than her but very sexy…

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