Story from Februs 30. Episode three of the serial by Sam Ramsey.
‘Do you want more coffee?’ Adam and Sarah were eating a companionable breakfast, she still in her bed, he (already dressed) sitting at the end of it; sections of the newspaper were strewn between them. He glanced across; she was looking dishevelled but very decidedly attractive. The top buttons of her night-shirt were open and he could see the curves of her breasts as she reached across to take the cup of coffee. He felt a strong flicker of desire, and a stab of regret. At other times, Sarah might have enthusiastically consented to a quick ‘goodbye’ tumble — but not today, Adam was sure, for of late she had shown an unusual sexual reserve.
Sarah caught his appreciative look and felt a pang of guilt. She knew that she had been rather distant with Adam recently, and part of her wished that things between them were back to normal. But her feelings were in too much turmoil for that. She realised only too well that it was absurd and self-indulgent and dangerous to be overwhelmed with a sudden obsession for someone little more than half her age. But these things are beyond reason.
Adam got up to leave, gave Sarah a quiet hug, which she returned warmly, grateful that he didn’t press her for more. ‘I’ll be back about six on Thursday,’ he smiled. ‘Enjoy yourself when your friend comes to stay… be good!.’
Why did he say that, Sarah, wondered; did he suspect something? No, surely not. It was just one of those idle remarks…
‘I will. Bye, love. Take care. Do drive carefully…’
‘Bye. I’ll miss you.’
Late in the afternoon, two days later, Sarah drove to the station to pick up Anna. It was a couple of months since that business trip, since the mad day when Sarah had gone to the beach with the young girl working as a waitress at her hotel, and they had made love by the sea — and then later, the older woman had introduced the young girl to the strange pleasure, the delightful pain, of submitting to a leather strap on her beautiful behind.
A wonderful diversion, Sarah had thought afterwards. Maybe she would tell Adam sometime, and he would surely be as turned on as he had been years ago when she had first confessed to having slept with a couple of girls when she was a student. But then she found she just couldn’t get Anna out of her mind. It wasn’t the sex, though that was a delight. And it wasn’t the novel and unexpectedly thrilling experience of giving for the first time what she had so often received from Adam, and making the girl squirm and moan. There was something about the girl’s beauty and vulnerability that had captured Sarah’s heart. She was falling in love.
So, without saying anything to Adam, Sarah had visited Anna a few weeks later at the university where she was a student. They had gone out for a long lunch at a cafe bar, and talked for hours, easily and without reserve, as if they had known each other for years, finally parting late in the afternoon with a single chaste kiss. Then, ten days later, when Sarah was in a nearby city, they met up for dinner, and this time, unbidden and quietly insistent, Anna returned to Sarah’s hotel and they made love again — very gently and tenderly.
Now, knowing Adam would be away for the better part of a week, Sarah had invited Anna to stay, and here she was, running down the steps from the far platform and flinging her arms round the older woman’s neck, smiling into her eyes and suddenly kissing her full on the month.
‘Hi! It’s wonderful to see you…’
‘It’s going to be a cold night. Shall I light a fire in the living room?’
‘That would be great… we could make love in front of it.’ Anna grinned at Sarah, who reached out and squeezed her hand.
‘You read my mind!’
They took what remained of their bottle of Chianti from the kitchen where they had eaten Sarah’s pasta and homemade sorbet, then sat over the cheese for a long time. They went, hand-in-hand, into the sitting room. A large room, formed by knocking together two smaller ones; a comfortable, lived-in, room with slightly battered, well-used furniture, the alcoves lined with books, and some rather good modern artists’ prints on the walls. An original Victorian fireplace was still in place at one end, and a log fire was laid. Sarah set about lighting it.
Sarah remembered that Anna had told her that she played the oboe in the university orchestra, and that music meant a great deal to her.
‘Choose something, and put it on the hi-fi.’
The older woman watched as the girl walked across the room. Anna had changed after her journey, and was now wearing a dark patterned skirt that fell well below her knees, with an equally dark plain shirt in some soft material that clung and showed the shape of her breasts. Her long straw-coloured hair was tied back in a pony-tail. The effect was very simple, very beautiful. She was barefoot, which Sarah found strangely touching.
The girl examined Adam’s large collection of CDs for a long time, suddenly serious. Eventually, the strains of a Haydn string quartet quietly filled the room — civilised, very human, intimate music. Anna danced solemnly back to where Sarah was sitting, and curled up at her feet.
A later scene. The music has changed, murmuring in the background very quietly. The fire now gives the only light in the room. And the room is quite hot, for the fire is more than the autumn night really needs. The girl is naked, lying on her back, her hands cupping her breasts, her legs spread. The woman is not yet fully undressed, her bottom still partly covered by very pretty, very expensive, lingerie. The woman’s head is between the girl’s thighs, tongue lapping at the girl’s centre. The girl’s head is beginning to toss from side to side. Her orgasm is mounting.
The two women are lying together, limbs tangled happily. Sarah reaches for the wine bottle. Empty.
‘Time for some whisky, I think!’
She unwraps herself from the girl and fetches more drinks, and then hugs Anna to her again.
‘That was wickedly nice!’ Anna smiles, stretching her slim, pale body like a cat.
‘Nice, but not wicked,’ Sarah replies. Then, teasingly, ‘Are you ever wicked?’
Anna giggles. And then her tone changes. ‘I was wicked once, and in front of a fire like this one; I did something I really shouldn’t have done…’
‘Tell me about it?’
Anna sits up, hugs her knees, looks into the flames. Sarah sits beside her close, an arm round the girl’s shoulder.
It was at Easter last year. I went off for a few days with my best friend Lizzie to a little cottage her family own in Wales. It was lovely; just the two of us, mostly working, revising for our summer exams. She’d arranged for her boyfriend, Giles, to come down at the end of the week with his friend Simon who I knew just a bit. So they turned up on the Friday, and we had a really good time the next day — a long walk across the hills to a pub for lunch and then the long walk back again; and later, when we’d recovered, we made a meal together, and sat in front of the fire, getting more and more drunk. Then it was inevitable, I guess…
Well, Giles and Lizzie started fooling around; and not to be left out I began snogging Simon who had turned out to be really nice. Giles half-undressed Lizzie and massaged her back; and Simon did the same for me and it was pretty blissful. And eventually… things just went on from there, like a competition between the boys to see how far we’d go in public. So it ends up with Lizzie and me more or less undressed, and with Simon shagging me while I’m watching Lizzie ride her Giles, and she kisses me as she comes. Wow! I’d never done anything remotely like that before and it was incredible.
If we’d stopped there it would have all been all right. But after we’d rested and drifted off in front of the fire for a while, I was still feeling randier than I think I’d ever felt before. Lizzie was very quiet and seemed out for the count, so there I was, between the two boys. And I couldn’t resist. I knew Lizzie would hate it, but I started snogging her Giles all the same. And then Simon joined in again, and they both really got into it, and I lay there with two sets of hands and lips all over me, and I mean all over, which was heavenly. So after a while, I’ve come again, about the best ever, and then I am on my hands and knees with Giles taking me from behind while I suck off his friend. And that’s when Lizzie woke and saw us.
She tried to be cool about it, but she never really forgave me or Giles… and so her two closest friendships soon came to an end, all for the sake of a drunken shag. Which was pretty bad of me, I guess. And what’s really wicked is that there’s a large part of me that doesn’t really regret it…
‘Well, you have been a bad girl,’ Sarah teases, aroused. A pause. ‘Perhaps you should be punished…’
There is another pregnant pause. They have hardly spoken again of that first night, when Sarah stung Anna’s behind. That episode was initiated by Anna: but will she consent again, now she has experienced it once?
‘Perhaps I should be punished…’
Another pause. They hold each other’s gaze. Then Anna smiles and ceremoniously kneels before Sarah.
‘Reach behind the books on the top shelf in the far alcove and bring me what you find there.’
Naked in the firelight, the girl rises and crosses the room. She stands on a stool, reaches up and her hand lights on something behind the books; she retrieves it.
‘There are two more…’
Anna reaches again. Then she brings back what she’s found and lays them on the low coffee table — a short two-pronged tawse; a whip with a dozen fine leather strands; and a light, springy cane.
‘Now from that shelf over there… you see those two large dice? Bring one here.’
Anna does so.
‘When I say, you roll the die. If it turns up one or two, I will use the whip. If you roll three or four, you’ll be tawsed. And…?’
‘If it’s a five or six, I’ll be caned,’ the girl whispers.
‘You understand perfectly,’ Sarah laughs. Then, very quietly, ‘Come here.’
For a moment, the two embrace, breast to breast, their arms tight around each other, kissing passionately. Sarah’s hands press the girl’s bottom; then, her voice taut with emotion,
‘Roll the die.’
The dark red object skitters across the coffee table, bounces off the tawse, and comes to rest. A five.
Anna is standing, leaning slightly forward over the back of the chesterfield pulled in front of the fire. Her straw hair now hangs loose down her narrow back. Her bottom curves outward, thrust slightly towards the older woman. There are already a few very faint marks across her buttocks, for Sarah has flicked the cane a few times, lightly and playfully: the slight tingling stings and the erotic tension of the situation have excited the girl again, so when Sarah asks ‘Are you ready to be striped?’ Anna silently nods.
Sarah, her body flecked with beads of perspiration from the fire and the love-making, stands behind the girl, holding the cane in her hand. Since the day she spent with Anna by the sea, she has fantasised about the possibility of this moment, frigging herself as she imagined the girl first moaning again in submission and then being comforted and petted and made love to. The dark delight wraps itself round Sarah’s soul, and she raises her arm…
Anna catches her breath as the first real lash bites into her buttocks. A moment of shock and then burning hurt runs through her. She steadies herself. When she is still, the cane descends again, harder, fiercer, and the girl cries out.
Sarah stands quietly for a moment, looking at the girl’s beautiful back, curving down through her narrow waist, down to the swell of her buttocks, now marked by two hot lines. The cruel marks only accentuate the perfect shape. She feels a rush of excitement. Her nipples tauten.
The cane descends again, biting agonizingly. The girl presses her body into the upholstered back of the sofa, her eyes smarting, her lashes damp. But she recovers and slowly offers her bottom again to the waiting woman. A fourth hiss of the cane, a fourth fiery kiss.
‘Aaah! Sarah! Aaaaargghh!’
The woman drops the cane and stands pressed up behind Anna and hugging her close. A long moment passes. Then she holds the girl away from her a little and starts kissing her shoulders. A tongue traces slowly downwards, downwards; hands stroke the girl’s back and reach forward to caress her breasts. Downward further; lips, mouth, cheeks, press against the girl’s stripes, feeling the heat.
Sarah kneels, licking the hot flesh. Then her hands on either buttock gently stretch apart the cheeks, revealing the girl’s pale rosebud. A tongue explores, teases, licks, penetrates. Anna sighs in a different way. A hand touches her wet centre.
Suddenly, as if recollecting unfinished business, the woman jumps to her feet.
‘There must be two more…’
‘I know,’ the girl whispers.
The cane is retrieved.
‘Down, sweetheart; on your hands and knees.’
The girl obeys, in the firelight, an image of submission, the line of her body perfect.
Another tormenting fiery stripe and the girl yelps. A final long pause. The woman prowls behind her, the tension palpable. The last moment must come, but not before every line and curve of the girl is fixed in her memory. Suddenly, fiercely again, a final cut — and whether by accident or design, it agonizingly cutting across the other stripes.
Anna bursts into tears, and kneels up, pressing her face against the standing woman’s flat stomach, wetting it with her tears, as she holds her ravaged buttocks. Sarah strokes her head, murmuring endearments. The sobs slowly subside; and then Anna kisses away the streaks of wetness on the woman’s skin and nuzzles down into the hair below. Sarah leans back on the sofa and parts her legs. She sighs deeply. The girl’s tongue sets to work.
Anna stays another day. A day full of lightness. They talk and are silent together, joke and discuss serious issues, and walk into the city, where Sarah insists of buying things for the girl — a dress, perfume, music. They eat out early at Sarah’s favourite restaurant. And then back to the house. They are in Sarah’s bedroom, where Anna is trying on the new dress again.
‘You need higher heels and a different bra,’ Sarah says, opening a cupboard and pulling out drawers. ‘Look through these, while I have a quick shower…’
When she returns, the girl is transformed. She is standing in front of the long mirror, balanced on Sarah’s highest heels (black patent shoes that Sarah has only ever worn at home, for Adam’s delight). Anna is wearing a black platform bra with cups that hardly cover her nipples, a g-string, and black hold-up stockings with lacy tops.
‘I found these… I hope you don’t mind.’
‘No, you look incredible. An icon of sexiness. Adam would have a heart attack!’
‘I found this in a drawer too,’ the girl adds, more tentatively, and takes from the bed Sarah’s vibrator. ‘I’ve never used one. Are you surprised? Will you show me?’
Sarah is embarrassed for a moment and then laughs, sits on the bed, and grabs the girl and pulls her off-balance onto the bed and into her arms.
They are now downstairs again, in front of a fire. There is music, louder this time; old seventies numbers. The girl, still in her sexy lingerie, is kneeling between Sarah’s thighs, but the vibrator has just been cast aside as the older woman recovers.
‘Now that’s what I call wickedly nice!’ Sarah grins and rubs her hands down her body languorously.
‘Good,’ says Anna. ‘I thought you just might be enjoying that… I sure enjoyed my turn!’ Then a sudden thought. ‘But what about you? What have you done that is really wicked? Fair’s fair, since I told you my story last night…’
Sarah is suddenly subdued. ‘I’ve never told this to anyone…’
‘You know I’ll keep your secrets.’
It’s a few years ago now. Adam had been away at a conference, and afterwards I found he’d accidentally left under the seat of his car a local paper from the city he’d been in. And it was folded open at the page with all the adverts for massage parlours and so on. I just knew that he’d been to one. He’d done it before and I’d found him out and been really angry — though, if I tell the truth, there’s part of me that found the idea rather exciting, when I pictured him lying there being sucked off by a girl he’d only just met. But this time I didn’t say anything; I just seethed inside, and I used it as an excuse to misbehave much more badly myself.
About a week later, I was away on a business trip, and I knew that I’d be meeting up again with this youngish guy David who manages one of our small branches, and who’d made it pretty plain in the past that he fancied me. So this time, when he was entertaining me to dinner, I flirted back outrageously, and one thing led to another, and we ended up in bed back at my hotel.
Sarah is quiet for a moment.
‘That doesn’t sound so very bad to me.’
‘Let me finish.’
Well, we fooled around for a long time; he was really slow and considerate, and great at oral sex, and I came wonderfully. And then, because I was still so cross with Adam and wanted to punish him somehow, when David wanted finally to come inside me, I turned over and… I asked him to… I asked him to take me that way. I mean anally.
And that was wrong because I hadn’t let Adam make love to me like that for a long time even though he adores it — it’s one of those things that doesn’t get easier as you get older, and the last time had hurt too much in the wrong sort of way. Well, I don’t know whether David was really experienced or whether it was beginner’s luck, but he seemed to know exactly what to do, and he opened me so gently and filled me so slowly, and then moved in just the right way, and for the first time ever I came from anal sex. It was unbelievable. And it wasn’t a one-off. We did it the same way again, even better, the next night.
Afterwards, I was able to teach Adam how to do it so as not hurt me, and we still sometimes make love that way, though, he never makes me come like David did. And I still feel bad that someone else has had what really should have been Adam’s.
Anna kisses Sarah. The room is suddenly quiet. The girl quietly gets up, her heels clicking across the floor, and changes the CD. Then she reaches for the large red dice, and hands one to the older woman.
‘Roll it, Sarah.’ There is a note of question in the girl’s voice. The two look at each other, Sarah’s luminous grey eyes bright. There is a moment’s stillness, and then she throws the die. A two.
The woman, naked, slowly fetches the many-thonged whip, kneels and hands it to the girl. Anna takes it and weighs it in her hand, and then seems to hesitate.
Sarah whispers, ‘You can use it anywhere — on my back, on my thighs, even on my tummy and breasts… Where do you want me?’
Silence. Then ‘Stand where I did…’
And Sarah leans against the sofa. After a moment, tentatively at first, and then with fire and excitement, the whip begins to fall.
Sarah squirms and moans. This is so different from being whipped by Adam, yet no different. She lets herself float into the sensation as the tips of the whip sting more and more of her body. She gives the last part of herself to Anna. And Anna too is wrapped up in feelings that grow in intensity as Sarah’s discomfort grows. She does not understand; but her body melts. She wants to frig herself, she wants Sarah’s knowing tongue in her arse again, she wants to whip Sarah.
Sarah cries out.
So, when Adam left his conference over a day early, and returned unannounced, that was the sight that greeted his eyes, as he quietly let himself into the house, sounds of arrival masked by the music.
A pretty young girl, straw-coloured hair down her back, stood in the very high heels, her breasts barely held by a tiny bra, her buttocks parted by the tiny thong of her knickers. Across her behind, faint but unmistakable, were the marks of a recent caning. She was agitated, breathing hard, aroused. In one hand, she held a whip, which was curling across his wife’s thighs. A fine tracery of marks covered Sarah’s back, extending even to her breasts. She was grimacing, in pain, in pleasure, for the girl’s other hand played between her thighs, frigging her fast. He recognised the signs; the woman was near her release. The whip swung again. Lighter, stimulating her breasts.
‘Oh yes… just there.’
Adam coughed. ‘I see that when the cat is away…’To be continued…