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An Anthology of Provocative Erotica
Provocative Erotica Anthology #1
by Secret Narrative
Love Potion No. 1
Provocative Erotica Anthology #1
Copyright, Secret Narrative,2015
All rights reserved including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. This is a work of fiction. All characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination, and any similarity to any persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The opinions expressed are the author’s own and are not representative of the opinions of the publisher or distributors.
Cover image: ©Brenda Carson| Dreamstime.com
This book contains strong language and sexually explicit content that some readers may find offensive and which is unsuitable for persons under the age of 18.
Love Potion No. 1
Featuring an erotic trio of novellas designed to turn you on.
An older man, younger woman, contemporary erotic romance, packed with pleasurable themes. Eleanor and Matthew explore each other through a series of wicked erotic games and sexy tasks that stimulate her desire for submission, spanking and other pleasures, which she shares through her diaries. As their relationship develops, Matthew revisits his past and reveals his early learning at the hands of an older woman, triggering an awakening that shapes his future with Eleanor.
Predatory, rich, and ruthless, bisexual, Kat Francis fills her hedonistic existence with bondage and domination sex games uncomplicated by love or commitment. She surrounds herself with men and women who indulge her every desire without question. However, after the marriage of her daughter, Kat awakens to new possibilities.
Break it to Love
Predictable alpha male, Scott Worth, bumps into Sara, a former crush and instantly regrets accepting her invitation to a barbecue. But when he meets Sara's much younger sister, Lizzie, he's soon counting his lucky stars.
Eleanor’s Journal: Ghosts
Eleanor’s Task: Figging
The Diary Room
Eleanor’s Journal: A Meeting
Eleanor’s Task Collared Puss
Eleanor’s Journal: Rolling in Blue
Eleanor’s Task: A Rest
Eleanor’s Journal: Oil and Water
Eleanor’s Journal: Cybersex
Eleanor’s Task: Shopping
Eleanor’s Journal: Eddie
Death in the Afternoon
Eleanor took a pair of stockings from the dressing table drawer with a sigh. She regretted agreeing to go to the Jive Like It’s ‘45 Tea Dance Julie had organised, but there was no going back now, she’d just have to grin and bear it. Everybody was expected to wear period clothing and Eleanor’s bedroom was an explosion of clothes, her bed was buried under an avalanche of discarded items with more strewn around the floor. Seamed stockings wouldn’t be a problem; Eleanor always wore stockings. She would be authentic, and wear natural with a black seam running up the back. Admittedly, British girls in the early forties would have been unlikely to get hold of such luxuries, but that wasn’t an issue now. Eleanor hoped that the same applied to the tea, because a ration book would be the last straw.
She put on a tight black skirt that touched her legs just below the knees. Underneath she wore a black basque, matching panties, choosing a polka dot blouse tied at the neck with a bow, cinched in at the waist with a belt. She decided not to wear earrings; the average woman in the 1940s didn’t have pierced ears. She covered her hair with a black net snood, topped off with a jaunty black felt hat complete with a band of ribbon and a few feathers. Eleanor completed the look with brogue style shoes, a slick of red lipstick and a light mist of Chanel No.5. Her favourite perfume was created in the Twenties.
Arriving at the base, Eleanor was amazed to see that the hall set aside for functions was packed. Many were dancing to the band playing music from the war years. A function was always held in September, to commemorate the end of the Battle of Britain, but this was the first time a themed party had been arranged. Dotted around the edge of the room was an array of stalls displaying period products for sale. Original fur stoles and coats, leather gloves, hats of all shapes and sizes, all vintage. One woman was running a stall offering authentic hairdos and makeup. Stockings were available in original style packaging, and there were beautiful clothes for men and women. Eleanor’s friend Julie arranged many functions. As the Wing Commander’s wife, it was expected, but she also found pleasure organising everything and everyone, she was in her element. Her husband, like many others, was often away on tours of duty, but this month and for the next few, the squadron was at home. Many of the men were there and most wore modern RAF mess dress uniform.
“Hi, Julie, thanks for inviting me, will I do?” Eleanor gave her friend a peck on the cheek.
“Fab-U-lous, darling,” replied Julie, absentmindedly returning the kiss, and surveying the room over her friend’s shoulder, always aware of networking duties and always on the lookout for waifs and strays. “Over there beside the kitchen, there’s tea, cake, sandwiches, biscuits, or if you like you can have something stronger at the bar. I hope you enjoy yourself. I’ll catch up with you later. Do you want me to find you a table, or can you sort yourself out?”
“I think I’ll go and look at the stalls. I fancy having my hair done, and it will be nice to take this hat off. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’ll come and find you if I get lonely.”
It had taken the beautician more than half an hour to put Eleanor’s hair into a ‘40s updo, but the result was stunning. Her thick, blonde curls were fastened into a pleat, secured with hairpins. Thrilled with the result and ready for a drink, Eleanor made her way to the bar and ordered a glass of wine. The band were playing The Lambeth Walk and their leader was giving instructions to dancing couples as they circled in pairs around the dance floor. It didn’t look too complicated, everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves. Eleanor crossed her legs and drained her glass.
“Buy you another? I’m Matthew Fletcher.”
“Eleanor Grant. Pleased to meet you. Yes, please, dry white wine would be lovely. Thank you.”
“Pleasure.” Matthew took the stool next to hers, and they waited in silence while the barman poured their drinks.
“Cheers. Do you come here often?” The laughing question reached his eyes, crinkling the corners. A perfect smile, white and even, and his eyes were brilliant, dazzling green, fringed with luxurious lashes. Eleanor tried to concentrate on what he was saying while also trying to work out his age. His uniform was pristine, and a perfect fit, she assumed it wasn’t hired or borrowed, he was a Squadron Leader (retired).
“I don’t come here often,” she finally replied. “My friend, Julie… over there,” she pointed, “… invited me. She’s always trying to get me involved.” She smiled.
“I’m glad you came,” he replied, raising his glass in another salute.
The band switched to the slow tempo of The White Cliffs of Dover.
“Would you like to dance?”
“Thank you, yes.”
Matthew led her onto the dance floor and took her into his arms in a traditional hold. Eleanor wasn’t very accomplished, but he held her firmly, and she followed his lead
“I’ve not danced in a long while. I hope I don’t tread on your toes.”
“I doubt I’d even notice.”
They twirled around for three or four dances. Eleanor could feel a charged atmosphere building between them, she melted quietly into his arms as he held her ever closer, he smelled heavenly, and she fit perfectly into his embrace. Thankfully, they could hear each other over the music, which although loud wasn’t too intrusive.
“Excuse me.” Another man interrupted, asking to partner Eleanor. It was difficult to refuse, so Matthew reluctantly gave her up and returned to the bar and his drink.
Blast and damnation thought Eleanor as she watched him retreat from over her new partner’s shoulder. He’s splendid. His back, clothed in the blue-grey mess dress jacket was broad; she had liked the feel of it beneath her fingers. She realised he’d had quite an effect on her, but she gave herself up to the rest of the evening, and the dancing.
Later, she spotted Matthew and was surprised by a pang of envy when she saw him with an attractive woman. He also spoke to the man she had danced with earlier, and another who had asked her to dance too. After that, she didn’t see him again until the band leader announced the last dance. Matthew arrived at her side and held out his hand to escort her to the floor as the opening bars of We’ll Meet Again filled the room.
“I’m relieved to claim you before the end of the evening. May I see you home?”
Eleanor struggled to conceal her delight as she accepted his offer and a fizz of excitement bubbled inside her as the dance ended.
“I’ll just go and find Julie to tell her I’m leaving.”
“Don’t be too long. I’m dying to get you alone.”
Light headed, Eleanor hurried across the room.
“You have an escort home?” said Julie, seeing Matthew waiting by the door. “Divine, darling. Lucky old you. He’s divorced. I gather from Bob that Fletcher’s ex went off with a much younger man when he was on his last tour. Gossip, always gossip. Have fun, but do be careful, Eleanor.”
“He’s only taking me home, but thanks and thanks for inviting me. See you soon, I’ll call you.”
Eleanor joined Matthew, and he escorted her out of the dance hall. They would get a taxi at the entry point of the base; it was a short walk to the guard’s kiosk where they could call for a car. In the warm night air, Matthew put his arm around her and dipped for a kiss. They had both had enough to drink to lower inhibitions, he took his time and kissed her again, his hands wandering to her arse, gently squeezing her. She responded passionately, rubbing against him, he untied the bow at the neck of her blouse and unfastened the first few buttons, revealing her basque, nuzzling his nose to inhale her.
“Delightful.” The tightly laced satin encased her body. She didn’t seem concerned when he reached down, slowly unravelled the ribbons to expose her breasts and bent to suck her nipples, hardening with the attention. Eleanor gasped and moaned as he held a nipple between his teeth. He tugged and sucked it erect. She made no protest as he undid the waistband of her skirt, put his hand inside her panties and ran his fingers through her trimmed bush. Thrilled to feel her fingers on his hardening cock, her pussy now dripping wet, the juices soaking the inside of her thighs. He used three fingers, sliding them in and out of her rapidly and his thumb to rub her clit.
He put his knee between hers opening her legs as wide as the tight skirt allowed. He felt her stiffen, but she continued softly moaning.
“Are you the type of woman who fucks in public?” he said.
“Tell me. Tell me what you are.”
“I’m a slut. Don’t stop.” She moaned, thrusting back onto his fingers, gasping. She put her hand on top of his, held it hard against her core and jerked on his fingers, close to orgasm.
“Sluts fuck anywhere,” he growled. “I’m going to fuck you right here, right now. Lie on your back and spread your legs.”
She slid to the ground. Rolling up her skirt, he cleared the way. Gazing at her stocking-clad legs, held with the suspenders of her black basque, he freed his cock from his trousers, and eyeing her fabulous, feminine underwear, decided that she was quite a find. Matthew slipped effortlessly into her snug sheath and moved until she went rigid, arching her back. Only then did he allow himself release.
“I don’t believe we just did that,” said Eleanor as Matthew pulled her to her feet and helped her to dress. The base was bristling with CCTV, but they hadn’t worried about the risk.
“Let’s hope nothing’s been recorded,” he said as they walked towards the guardhouse.
Smiling with pleasure, Matthew was delighted that he’d read her correctly. He couldn’t have wished for a better outcome. She seemed happy. No harm done. His cock stiffened in his pants again. Meanwhile, Eleanor was struggling with her own dilemma, she couldn’t understand it. She had never done such a risky thing in her life. Fucking in public was hazardous enough, but with a virtual stranger. Turning the situation over in her mind while they waited for the cab, she searched the faces of the guards to see if they had witnessed anything, but they chatted normally and she thought not.
When they arrived at her place, she decided not to ask Matthew in. They exchanged numbers, but she had no intention of calling him, she’d never chased a man in her life and didn’t intend to make an exception for this one. She was certain that he was old enough to be her father.
In an agony of mixed emotion, she got undressed, noting the grass stains on her clothes and skin. The stockings and panties were ruined, but she was hopeful that the blouse and skirt could be salvaged.
Later, soaking in the bath with a stiff drink, things didn’t seem quite as bad as they had at first. It was Sunday tomorrow; she could stay in bed until late and rethink her behaviour. She dumped the clothes strewn on the bed onto the floor to join the others, took a sleeping pill, and nestled under the quilt.
The ping of an incoming text woke her. Groggy, she squinted at the bright illumination of the tiny screen.
You were magnificent last night, can I see you today?
Instantly alert, she pinged back. Of course.
They agreed to meet at midday in the park. She dressed in jeans, pumps, a long white shirt, and waistcoat. Her underwear, a lemon coloured bra and matching panties, trimmed with cream lace and embroidered with tiny dark yellow flowers. The delicate, pale pieces looked fresh and feminine after the siren effect of the black that she had worn on the night they met. She approached the bench where he sat with a picnic basket beside him.
“Hello, want to feed the ducks?” He held out a brown paper bag.
She took the bag and together they threw handfuls of bread into the water, masses of ducks of various sizes scrambled for the food in a frenzy of splashing.
“I enjoyed last night,” he said. “I’ve never done anything like that before,” he lied.
“I can’t believe what we did. It must have been the wine.”
They walked back to the bench, retrieved the picnic basket, and made their way to the edge of the park and a copse of trees. The promise of a warm day had been fulfilled; the trees would provide privacy and shade. Accompanied by birdsong, and rustling, Matthew opened the basket and laid out a rug. He had packed an assortment of food, chilled Champagne and big, fat, juicy strawberries. Eleanor was impressed, she liked resourceful, thoughtful, men, although this one was different, much older than her usual type.
“Let me feed you.” He picked up a lush strawberry.
She parted her lips. He popped the fruit onto her tongue, and she bit hard, the ripe berry exploded inside her mouth, leaning forward he touched his lips to hers to share the juice. She felt her pussy grow moist as she allowed him to feed her another, the sweet flavour enhanced by the crisp, sparkling wine. He pushed her back onto the rug and moved against her, kissing her passionately; she could feel his hardening cock touching her leg as she responded to his kisses. Reaching down together, they removed her jeans; he opened her shirt and gazed at the confection of underwear.
“Lovely,” he said, “don’t move.”
Smiling, Eleanor kept still on the rug, which felt soft beneath her naked skin, cooling in the slight breeze.
Dipping his hand into the basket, he produced a long feather. Using the tip, starting at the base of her throat and travelling between her breasts, he slowly drew a long line down her body. He paused at her panties, tapping the feather against the sheer cloth.
“Take them off,” he commanded.
Helplessly, Eleanor obeyed.
“Open your legs.”
He moved the tip of the feather over the top of her trimmed bush, tickling at her opening, causing her to squirm.
Kneeling between her legs, he used his left hand to open her inner lips, holding the feather in his right, he slowly inserted it until she could feel it high up inside her. Encouraged by her small squeal of pleasure, Matthew began turning the feather around and around so that it tickled her inner walls. She arched her back while he relentlessly rotated the feather, he could sense her determination to get a hand to her clit, and it was clear that she wanted to masturbate, desperate to come.
“Keep your hands by your sides.” He worked her, drawing the feather slowly out of her and reinserting it. He paused to release his cock and held it firmly in his other hand.
“Raise yourself up and open your eyes.”
Obeying him, Eleanor rested on her elbows, watching him masturbate as he continued to use the feather on her.
Thrilled to oblige, she reclined, moved her fingers towards her aching clit as he slowly trailed the soaking feather back up her body. He pushed the tip of it into her mouth for her to taste while they masturbated.
“Do you want me inside you?”
“Yes,” she gasped, throbbing with lust, the lingering taste of her juices on her tongue.
“Please fuck me, Matthew, please, I want you inside me now.”
He entered her with one hard thrust, the feather fell to the ground beside her head; she kept her fingers on her clit masturbating as he pushed into her harder and faster. She could feel her orgasm approaching as she touched her clit using small, circular caresses with one hand, clutching the back of his neck with the other, and his skin felt hot to her touch. She reached orgasm in the few seconds before he shot his spunk into her with a grunt of satisfaction. Spent, his cock softened and slipped out of her pussy, followed by a rush of cum, which soaked the inside of her thighs.
Pouring the last of the Champagne into their glasses, Matthew quietly toasted her before tidying everything away. Walking back the way they had come, they headed to their respective homes, arranging their next meeting as they parted. She had invited him to dinner at her place for the following evening and was already looking forward to it as she hurried home, flushed with sex and Champagne.
Goodness knows how I’ll do a day’s work tomorrow she thought as she let herself into her house. She had a shift which she wouldn’t be able to swap, the hospital was understaffed as it was. She had better press her uniform tonight, she wouldn’t have time the next day before early turn, and at least she’d be home by four, which would leave plenty of time to prepare. The answerphone was flashing, but she couldn’t be bothered to check it, that’ll wait until tomorrow she decided as she ran her nightly bath.
The next day, Eleanor arrived home from work laden with shopping, determined to cook a fabulous meal. She had no time to lose, Matthew was due at eight, and she hadn’t even started. First, she laid the table. It looked perfect, covered with a crisp, white cloth, and she placed a colourful bunch of small, scented flowers in a silver bowl at the centre of the table. A matching pair of silver bowls filled with perfumed water and floating candles stood on either side of the centrepiece. She set the house lights low; the soft light enhanced the impact of the overall effect. The answerphone was still blinking, displaying the legend, 3 messages, but with no time to check it, it would have to wait. If it was urgent, there was always her mobile, but she hadn’t heard it ring or ping so whatever it was couldn’t be important.
She busied herself with the meal, Horiatiki salad with warm rolls to start. Eleanor liked to use recipes that she could prepare in advance, which needed minimum attention. She had chosen to make her signature dish of luscious, hearty Irish stew for the main course; it could be left to bubble for ages and still tasted superb. For dessert, a slightly riskier Pavlova, which she’d decided to chance, if it went well it would be a triumph and she felt confident as she bustled around putting the final touches together.
Happy that everything was under control in the kitchen, Eleanor changed into a purple dress with a plunging neckline that displayed her breasts. She didn’t bother with a bra but wore a waspie, decorated with black embroidered flowers, fastening the suspenders onto black stockings. She chose sheer black panties, which displayed her pale arse cheeks through the semi-transparent cloth, completing the look with high, black patent stilettos and a pair of jet earrings. Leaving her hair tumbling in soft curls around her shoulders, she checked her reflection, satisfied with the overall effect, she went to make sure that everything was under control.
He arrived punctually carrying a holdall and a bouquet.
“I’ve been to the gym.” He indicated the bag and handed her the flowers.
“Thank you, they’re beautiful. I hope I’ve got enough vases to do them justice,” said Eleanor, making her way to the kitchen to put them in water.
“Something smells delicious,” he called after her.
Eleanor returned with cocktails, a Velvet Kiss for him with an extra shot of Gin and a Silk Stockings for herself. No need to mention the treble Tequila that she’d put into her own glass. She sat beside him, feeling a little nervous as she sipped her drink hoping it would hit the spot.
“This is for you,” he said, handing her a slim black box. “By way of a thank you for giving me so much pleasure over the last couple of days.”
It wasn’t Eleanor’s style to be twee about gifts, she loved receiving them. Her delight was evident. She opened the box to reveal a stunning charm bracelet nestled on a bed of satin; it consisted of intricate, linked loops in white gold. Eleanor lifted it out, attached to one of the bracelet’s rings was a small charm.
“Thank you, Matthew. It’s exquisite. Help me to put it on will you?” She offered her wrist.
“I like these,” he said, fastening the clasp, indicating the loops of the bracelet yet to be adorned. “They have so much potential.” He sealed his words with a kiss, planted on the inside of her perfumed wrist.
Closer inspection revealed that the charm was a tiny, heart-shaped padlock.
“It’s fabulous, thank you, you’re too generous,” she said, kissing him warmly on the mouth.
The meal passed in a haze of lively, flirtatious conversation. Obviously an experienced player, he told her that he had been divorced for fifteen years, and she didn’t let on that she had already heard the gossip about the way his wife had left him.
Matthew didn’t seem bothered by the failure of his marriage and told her that it hadn’t been entirely unexpected. They had married young, had no kids and eventually grown apart. His career took him all over the world, he was away a lot, his wife had become bored, found someone else, and had remarried.
Leaving out the salacious details, Eleanor explained that she didn’t like being tied down, had grown accustomed to spending time with a number of men. As a nurse at the military hospital, she met loads of different people. Dates were never difficult to arrange, she lived life to the full, but she hadn’t been lying when she told him that the experience they had shared after the dance was a first.
Listening to her speak, Matthew quietly calculated how far he could take her sexually, wondering how far she would be prepared to go.
Leaving the dining table, moving over to the squashy sofa, Eleanor carried the coffee, mints, and brandy to the low table in front of their seats. She sloshed a generous amount of liquor into the coffee finishing off with a glug of cream.
“To imaginative games.” He raised his cup to her in a toast.
She echoed the sentiment as they sipped. The intoxicating heat of the coffee tasted fantastic through the cool of the cream, and she felt the fire of the brandy racing through her veins.
“Do you mean it?” he said. “Imaginative games can be challenging and fun, but they can also bring the unexpected. Are you prepared to trust me, Eleanor?”
Alert to the changed atmosphere now charged with expectation, Eleanor was silent for a moment as she formulated her reply; knowing that she needed to answer carefully.
“The truth is that I’m not terribly sure,” she said. “I know it seems silly, but I’ve been worried about what we did in the grounds of the base on that first night. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
“You’re stunning, Eleanor. You’re classy, and you have guts and style. I like that in a woman. Would you like me to show you some of the things that I like women to do? Would you like to try a little game with me now?”
Taking a massive gulp of her spiked coffee, Eleanor nodded; her eyes sparkled from the effects of the alcohol, her cheeks flushed with anticipatory colour.
Putting his drink down, Matthew took hers from her, placed them both out of the way on the table, and pulled her across his lap all in one fluid movement. Without further warning, he lifted her dress up to her waist. She had already started to writhe, excited but bewildered. She wasn’t used to this sort of treatment.
Suddenly, he brought the flat of his hand down with incredible force smacking her arse soundly three times in quick succession and striking her arse cheeks in exactly the same place, the noise was astonishing. By the time the last contact was made between palm and arse, the stinging was intense, and she yelped with pain.
Nevertheless, to her amazement, she felt herself moistening with lust, her juices flooding her panties.
“Stop, Matthew. Please, stop. It hurts.”
“I know that you love it, I can feel your wet pussy,” he replied, pulling down her panties, inserting a finger into her from behind.
Writhing as he fingered her with one hand, holding her across his knees with the other, her body pressed firmly into his lap so that she could feel his hard cock against her through the scratchy material of his jeans. Eleanor’s arse bucked when he began smacking again, the blows were severe, he grunted with exertion each time his hand made contact with her soft skin.
“Still hurting, or do you like it now?” he paused for a moment. “How does it feel to have the palm of my hand stinging your cute little arse?”
“It truly hurts, Matthew.” Eleanor was breathless, wriggling on his lap, which only served to heighten his excitement.
“You need further training,” he said, bringing his hand down mercilessly.
“Say, “thank you”,” he ordered. “Every time I hit your arse, I want you to say “thank you”. If you don’t, I’ll smack you much, much harder.”
Eleanor felt a shiver of fear, mixed with the warmth of elation, she could do this, but she was all over the place and reeling with pain.
“Thank you,” she murmured as his hand found its target again with a loud smack.
She had lost count of the number of times that he’d struck her. “Thank you,” she said again and again, increasingly louder. He seemed tireless, beating her burning arse.
“Ow!” Eleanor bucked up beneath his hand and he stopped to remove her panties, which had tangled at her knees hindering his progress.
“You don’t sound enthusiastic enough, say, “thank you, that’s wonderful, Matthew”, say it like you mean it, and count. Count the smacks,” he growled, bringing his hand down again three times in quick succession.
Flooded with adrenaline and warmed with the intensity of the thrashing, Eleanor could feel her pussy getting wetter, the warmth of her glowing arse cheeks started to travel through her veins. Her head was spinning, and she could feel the first tentative tingling of an orgasm building within her.
Eleanor shouted out, “one, ahh, two, ahh, three, ahh. Thank you, oh, Matthew, thank you, thank you, please, please don’t stop.”
Without ceremony, he stopped, tumbling her off his lap onto the carpet.
“Stay on your knees,” he said, opening his fly and releasing his cock. “Suck it, and don’t stop until I tell you, or I’ll have to spank you again.”
Leaning forward, Eleanor took his hard cock into her mouth. Grabbing a fistful of her hair in one hand, he masturbated into her mouth with the other. She could taste the salty cream of his cum oozing from him. She struggled to take him fully into her throat as he pushed her head down. She kept her teeth covered with her lips and completely enclosed his cock, accommodating him in the moist warmth, moving up and down mirroring the action of his hand on his shaft.
Using what little power she had, she gripped him firmly between her lips. She wanted to make sure that she didn’t snag him with her teeth, even though he deserves it, she thought as she felt the cheeks of her arse smarting. At least she managed to get a hand to her pussy so that she could rub her clit, which was aching with the need for relief. He continued masturbating, stroking his cock harder and harder into her mouth.
“Get ready, I’m going to come,” he told her, pushing her head onto his cock, shooting several spurts deep into her throat.
He held her head firmly onto him until she swallowed every last drop, before allowing her to flop beside the settee. She had not been able to come herself, having been on the verge of orgasm when he shot his load.
“Wait there, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Motionless on the floor, reeling from the intensity of the last few minutes, she had lost track of time since he pulled her across his knees. Her pussy was still tingling, and she needed to come, but felt apprehensive when he disappeared into the hall. Goodness knows what he’s up to now she thought, and a small shiver goose-bumped her skin.
“Clear the table, sweetheart,” he said, reappearing with his holdall. “I’ve got some things to show you. Take everything out into the kitchen except the candles. We can put them on the coffee table, the light is lovely, and they smell delightful too though not as good as you.”
Welcoming the chance to readjust her clothes, Eleanor tidied the remains of their meal away. She took the opportunity to pour herself a massive brandy and downed it in one before she went back to join Matthew.
“Would you like to try this?” he asked, holding up a short bamboo cane with a hook handle while continuing to take other equipment out of his bag. There were blindfolds, a paddle, handcuffs, gags, a dog collar, massage oils and lube. Astounded but silent, Eleanor watched as he pushed the coffee tray to one side and laid out everything in front of them.
“I’ve got quite a treat for you,” he said. Taking her hand, he led her over to the dining table, moved the chairs out of the way and pointed to her dress.
“Take it off. Let me show you how much pleasure these few items can bring.”
“Matthew, I’m not sure about this...”
Ignoring her, he continued, “Leave the rest on,” he indicated her underwear and shoes. “Lie on the table, get right onto it, face down.”
Hesitating, Eleanor looked at him and opened her mouth to protest.
Pressing a finger to her lips, he hissed, “If you don’t do as you’re told how will we find out what you like? Don’t you want to please me? I meant what I said over dinner.”
Doing a swift calculation, she considered their conversation when he’d outlined some of his plans for the future, and quickly decided that she may as well continue. After all, they’d come this far. Suppressing a shiver Eleanor silently complied; the table cold against her skin.
Taking four long pieces of rope from the bag, Matthew tied each of them to the legs of the table, fastening her limbs spread-eagled. Face down. Standing back, he admired his handiwork. He’d used soft rope, which wasn’t too thin; he didn’t want it to cut into her if she struggled.
“I just need to get a few photos, you don’t mind do you?”
“I’d actually rather that you didn’t take pictures, Matthew. I’m not at all sure about this…”
“I see,” he said, gagging her with a ball gag. “It’s rather too late for protest I’m afraid, you’ll simply have to do as I say.”
Using a stills camera and video Matthew took a number of shots making small adjustments until he was happy with the result. He pushed the lens right up between her legs to record her lush pussy and her cute, hard little clit. He photographed her glowing arse cheeks, taking a full shot of her body spread out invitingly on the table, and dipping a finger into the slit of her pussy, put it into his mouth and licked.
“Mmm, tastes divine.”
Finally, he took a picture of her mouth. Lips wide open encasing the black ball of the gag. Shouldn’t be too uncomfortable he thought. It’s only golf ball size. Anyway, she certainly looks fucking sexy. His cock stiffened again. Feeling proud of his recovery time, he put the cameras safely out of the way. He’d review his photographic work later. There were more pressing needs to satisfy now.
Looking at her lying splendid, immobilised on her dining room table, Matthew was pleased that he hadn’t tied the bonds too tightly. He didn’t particularly want to hurt her. Nevertheless, he had made certain that the ropes would tighten if she struggled, being an expert with knots was ideal for his fetishes. Standing in front of her, slowly rubbing his rock hard cock, he considered his options. First, he got the spanking paddle, it was black and smooth on one side with myriad raised metal studs on the other. Starting with the flat side he brought the paddle down onto her arse with a resounding smack, she bucked up, and he was pleased that he had left a bit of play in the restraints.
“Do you like it, Eleanor? Have you developed a taste for it yet?”
Quickly nodding her head to indicate, yes, she hoped that he’d take off the gag. The ball felt uncomfortable in her mouth, and it didn’t taste pleasant either.
“I need to be sure,” he said and brought the paddle down again, the smooth side striking her arse repeatedly as he counted aloud to ten.
“More?” he asked. “Nod, please. “Yes” is the correct answer.”
Nodding, she squeezed her eyes closed. Thank goodness, she’d had that last slug of brandy, she felt slightly woozy, but the intoxicating liquor softened the pain. Matthew turned the paddle over delivering five sharp smacks in quick succession with the studded side. Silent tears slid down Eleanor’s face. Tasting their salt as they trickled into her gagged mouth, she felt the tension of excitement beginning to mount again, causing a knot of lust in the pit of her stomach.
“You love it, don’t you? You’re a proper slut, what a revelation. When I first saw you sitting at that bar, you looked as if butter wouldn’t melt, but now look at you. Perfect.” He counted out another five severe blows before putting the paddle to one side.
He removed the gag.
“Don’t talk, just listen. I’ve taken the gag off because I want you to suck my cock again. After you have done that to my satisfaction, I’ll untie you, is that understood? Now you’ve got a proper taste for me, I can see that you’re excited in spite of yourself. I think that you’re going to enjoy this evening, and we’ve got all night.”
After she had indicated her compliance, he removed the gag. Deciding to blindfold her, he loosened the bonds on her wrists so that she could lift herself up from the table, making it easier to take his cock as he pushed it into her mouth. Moving in and out, his hands on his hips, he watched his cock disappearing into her mouth rhythmically. Occasionally looking along the length of her body, he relished the sight of the red wheals making an appearance on the creamy skin of her arse.
She looked cracking, her eyes covered with the black, silk cloth of the blindfold, he continued sliding his cock in and out of her warm, accommodating throat. Her tongue darted and slurped the helmet of his cock in sublime circuits. His balls had started to ache; her perfume and the scent from the candles she had lit earlier permeated the atmosphere, filling his nostrils, tingling. The sensation was thrilling. He’d have to stop, or he’d come, and there was still so much he wanted to show her. He wasn’t ready to finish yet. He pulled his cock out of her mouth and moved away.
“I want to tie you the other way up, but I’d prefer it if you were laid out on your bed,” he said. “I am going to untie you and put a collar around your neck, attached to it will be a lead. I intend to take you to your bedroom, you will do as you are told, or I will have to apply severe punishment.”
“All right,” whispered Eleanor. Her mouth ached from being held open, first by the ball gag and then by his cock, but her pussy had started to clench again with anticipatory spasms.
The smell of sex was evident in the air between them, adding to the mixture of emotion stimulating her in a way that she’d never felt before. Standing blindfold in her underwear and shoes, filled with excitement, Eleanor allowed Matthew to fix a wide, leather collar, studded with tiny metal stars around her neck and attach a short leather lead.
“Wait there for a moment,” he ordered while he gathered his stuff into the bag.
Picking up the lead, he tugged firmly forcing her to follow him up the stairs.
He pushed open the door and led her inside.
“Kneel on the bed,” he ordered.
Eleanor obeyed while Matthew undressed. Fastening the loop end of the lead to the bedpost, he got a harness out of his bag, pushing her forward a little; he put it around her hips. It was velvet soft against her skin and even though she was anchored to the bed, Eleanor relaxed. Kneeling behind her, holding each of the harness handles in his hands, Matthew took up the slack, holding her firmly in front of him.
“Lean forward. You’re wearing the collar and lead, so I’m going to fuck you hard, doggie. You’re going to love it so much, you’ll be screaming for more.”
Leaning forward, she allowed Matthew to resettle her weight in the harness and enter her from behind. Bracing herself against the bed she managed to get one of her hands to her clit as he fucked her doggie with powerful, deep thrusts made possible by the harness. He certainly knows what he’s doing she thought as she felt him pounding into her. She massaged her clit with circular movements that mirrored his pace as her orgasm approached.
She wasn’t sure about the restrictive collar, but she certainly liked the depth of penetration of cock in her pussy. The blindfold heightened her other senses, and when she climaxed, she felt his pace increase before he shot his load into her, pushing her face into the mattress.
Spent, Matthew dropped the handles of the harness, undid the collar from Eleanor’s neck, and gently removed the blindfold.
“Is that your thing?” she asked. “Is that how you always like your sex?”
She snuggled into his arms.
“Most of the time,” he said. “I enjoy being in charge. Unfortunately, many of the women I meet don’t like it, so it’s difficult to find someone to play with. I have plenty of other games if you’re willing to try a few with me. I feel sure that you and I can go a long way together.”
Eleanor considered the last few explosive orgasms she had experienced while this man fucked her. It was true that he was probably far too old for her, but he was generous, and he’d awoken something within her previously undiscovered. She was exhausted but elated and decided that his potential far outweighed the disadvantages of his age and sexual preferences. In fact, the sex had been fantastic. Yes, overall, not bad at all she thought, making her decision and nodding in answer to his question, she burrowed into his arms to sleep.
Much later, Eleanor heard the phone ringing, heard the click as the answerphone picked up the call, heard her own voice announcing her absence and heard the click again as the caller hung up without leaving a message. Moments later, she heard her mobile ringing followed by the ping of a text.
Julie snapped her phone shut, dropping it back into her bag. Dammit. She had been trying to contact Eleanor since the dance. It was unusual for her not to answer her mobile. Still, even though there was no point in leaving another message on the landline, she’d sent a text, Eleanor was sure to pick that up. Julie decided that she was probably overreacting in any case; after all, it was unlikely that all the gossip she’d made it her business to find out about Squadron Leader Fletcher was true. Idle chitchat was rife on the base and invariably exaggerated. None the less, if Eleanor didn’t contact her by tomorrow, she would call around to the house and leave a note.
When she awoke the next day, Eleanor kept still. She slowly became aware that her arse was bruised and painful, her wrists and ankles smarted like hell, her jaw ached, and her pussy was tingling with warmth. Realising he had left, she gingerly opened her eyes, cautiously sitting up, she looked around the room; spotting an envelope on the dressing table, she got out of bed to retrieve it. Tearing it open revealed a wallet, which held a pair of airline tickets. She popped open the flap and discovered they were for Venice, departing the following Friday, stuck on top of one of them was a post-it note that read:
I’ll collect you at midday, don’t be late, I’ve booked us into a beautiful hotel on the Lido de Venezia, pack appropriate clothing for a long weekend, in and out of bed.
Smiling, she put the tickets safely into her handbag, removed her new bracelet, and went downstairs to clear up. This is going to be quite a journey, she thought as she surveyed the detritus of the previous evening.
When she checked her mobile, Eleanor saw that Julie had left a message.
I’ve been trying to ring you for days, where are you? Please call me when you get this, love Julie x.
It’s been a hectic few days, sorry I haven’t been in touch, I can meet you this evening if you like - after my shift x. Eleanor pressed send.
Ok. See you at nine at Hunter’s Bar.
“Darling, at last. What have you been up to for the last few days? I’ve been beside myself,” said Julie, giving Eleanor a warm hug.
“Oh, I’ve had a busy few days at work, and I had a couple of dates with Matthew, we went to the park, he came to dinner. You know… the usual sort of stuff.”
“Hmmm, I see, well, you just be careful around Squadron Leader Fletcher. Recently, I’ve heard that he plays the field and can be a bit of a handful. I’d feel dreadful if he hurt you, Eleanor. After all, if I hadn’t insisted that you come to the dance the other night, you’d probably never have met him.”
“How strange,” said Eleanor, “he’s been a perfect gentleman with me.”
No matter how much she wanted to talk about Matthew, she had decided that she wasn’t going to share her recent experiences with anyone. Some things are best kept private she thought, with a pang of guilt about deceiving her friend.
Unaware of Eleanor’s discomfort, Julie continued. “Loaded you know, absolutely loaded. His parents were massively wealthy, and when they died, they left everything to Matthew. Bob says that he has invested it wisely, filthy rich apparently, so I say, lucky old you. If you can handle him.”
“He’s lovely, a real sweetie. He’s taking me to Venice this weekend, and I’m looking forward to it. Honestly, he’s an absolute darling. I’m sure that any gossip you’ve heard has been from old flames or something like that.”
“Hmm, methinks that you protest a little too much,” said Julie. “Aren’t you worried about the age difference, Eleanor? He is sixty if he’s a day, that’s such a big gap, dear.”
“For goodness sake, Julie, we’re having a few dates, enjoying ourselves, there’s nothing more to it than that. You know that I like keeping my options open, please don’t go on about it, it’s boring. Anyway, let’s change the subject. I’m sure that you’ve got loads to tell me, how’s Bob getting on at work since his promotion?”
“Very well, dear, we’ll change the subject, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. You know where I am if it all ends in tears. You tend to be such a poor judge. You know I only have your best interests at heart.”
Eleanor couldn’t help thinking about Julie’s words. The fact that her friend was so worried meant that she set store by the gossip, and Eleanor knew from her own experience with Matthew that some of it was likely to be true. On the other hand, why worry? There was no harm done so far, and she liked him. Anyway, she could look after herself. Snapping back to the present, she sipped her wine and tried to concentrate on Julie.
Matthew didn’t get in touch again until the morning of their departure, which was a blessing because Eleanor had to work extra shifts to call in a few favours and get cover for the weekend. She had also bought new underwear and clothes, which she’d packed. No doubt he’d planned everything else; she shivered with anticipation.