“It's probably not as uncommon as you think, just unlucky you had that for your first time.”
“He said… the boss said… you would take care of me. He said you would be kind. He said you would understand. I know it seems ridiculous and that so much time has passed since then. Even when I say it, it sounds inane, but…”
The enigma that was my lover was speaking to me through this youngster and yet I did not hear his message clearly. Was he giving me the go-ahead or sending me another challenge? For all I knew, this was a set-up and complete ruse. I had to think quickly.
“What is it you want, exactly?”
“Just to… I dunno. Have reassurance I'm not a weirdo. That every lass who tries it on won't be like that… making me feel dirty and used. I just want…”
“Someone nice to help you overcome the fear?”
“Yeah,” he smiled, warming up, and something else started plaguing me.
This specimen was terribly pretty and even more so now he had painted a smile on for me. I was conflicted. Perhaps I could just give this man everything he wanted and more and hope that it stayed between us. But that would never happen. Noah always got it out of me. He knew when I was lying and I hated to lie to him anyway. Moreover, I had to stay true to myself and to what I was getting out of the arrangement.
“I want you to wash me, in the bathroom. I am a bit too sweaty and so, we can begin this way. We can take our time.”
He was bemused but soothed by my innocent smile.
“Shall we?”
The washing tactic was always the best way to figure out which part of a woman a man most responded to.
“Clothed or unclothed?”
“Who? Me or you?”
“Well, either, your choice.”
“Me clothed, you naked, please. For now,” he said.
I removed my suspenders and stockings, my pink balconette bra and matching Fifties-style knickers. One thing Noah had told me beforehand was that my Initiate that day would require the soft treatment, so my clothing reflected as much. I stepped into the tub and switched on the shower.
I turned, placed my hands on the tile, and told him, “There's a sponge just on the bath bridge and some soap I like. Make sure you foam all of me. I like to be really, really clean before we begin.”
“Uh, yeah, okay,” he whispered, a frog choking him.
He rubbed the soap into the sponge and lathered up with some water, rolling up his shirt sleeves before getting to work.
“You must be about my age, but you act a lot older.”
He wanted this to mean something, I could tell, but I had to get this out of his mind.
“I am here to teach you and please you, nothing more,” I reminded him.
“Sure, yeah,” he said.
He went straight for my buttocks, lathering my rear rather luxuriously. No surprise there. He moved to my legs and worked well, getting every inch of my thighs and calves. He moved up my back to my shoulders and arms, and I turned around to let him wash my breasts. I looked at him without emotion, surveying his work, not betraying my thoughts. He betrayed his adoration, however, biting his lip and breathing hoarsely. His cute little face was blushing so innocently. He looked divine in a helpless, puppy-dog kind of way.
“Remember to scrub all of me,” I reminded him.
“Uh-huh.”
He foamed the sponge up some more and started washing me slower, more intently, watching my eyes as the sponge touched me. It was the best way for him to familiarise himself with a woman without skin-to-skin contact. I saw how he loved to wash my stomach and hit the bottom of my breasts so that they bounced upwards a little. I couldn't help but smile, and he smiled too.
“You're so pretty. Your face, it's angelic,” he said.
He was so sweet that he couldn't even look at me after that. I was slightly annoyed by his constant need for some meaningfulness, but I couldn't help but be a little enamoured by his naivety. He was bringing the showerhead over toward me to rinse me off when I reprimanded him.
“You missed something, young man…”
“What?”
“Feet. I like those to be all pearly clean too.”
I noticed throughout the routine that he had often gone toward my feet and decided against it. He either considered this a no-go area or was tentative about touching them less he get too excited. He looked at them and stared, hesitant, but did as he was told. The material of his trousers was tested for durability when he washed the toes and ankles.
I got out and then had him dry me. When I was fresh and clean, I said to him, “Now, I want you to pleasure me. With your finger, just touch my clitoris, take your time, explore, go slowly. Do it gently.”
I placed one foot on the side of the bath to display myself and he watched in awe. He saw my foot there and it drew his concentration.
“Boy, I love feet,” he admitted.
“We'll get to those,” I assured him, “but for now…”
Another man bringing me to orgasm was bending the rules but I decided to allow myself the pleasure that day, for Noah had also bent the rules in sending a virgin to me. Well, if he wanted me to rise to a challenge, then I would.
The Initiate inched his finger toward me and tentatively explored my folds.
“You're so hot and sweet-smelling,” he said.
“That's really good,” I told him, “really good. It's nice to tell a lady she pleases you. That's half the challenge ‒ to make a woman feel wanted and desired. If she feels that, she's yours… she's helpless then.”
He wiggled a finger inside and I gasped. He was a very pretty young man, more my own age, and it had been a while since I'd enjoyed a fresh young cock. I was accustomed to more mature, lengthy conquests, not the quick rapid fucks of a tireless young buck. Oh Noah, why have you sent this angel to test me so? I thought.
With my head thrown back and my body succumbing to the onset of ecstasy, I was in no state to complain when a tongue touched me instead. Oh, I was in awe. He licked me slowly and daintily, looking up at my face as I tried to overcome the sensation of his mouth at my soaking pussy.
“That's very pleasurable,” I said.
“Tell me what to do,” he asked.
“Just do that, oh yes, just touch me gently.”
I was so aroused. He slid his delicate hands around my buttocks and made me cum very tenderly, so that I moaned softly and let a wonderful warm wave wash over me gently. It was so delightfully sensual and comforting.
“There's only one thing I want now.”
“Anything,” he responded.
“Your cock out.”
He unzipped and brought out a thick sword of milky white cock, solid and smooth, with a large mushroom head. I was outraged that Noah had sent this to me. What to do with it, I didn't know. It was glaring at me, taunting me, and the Initiate smiled.
“There's no way that story was true,” I said.
“No.”
“Then what?”
“He wouldn't have let me anywhere near you without that story. I heard about you from all the other guys. I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Now I know.”
He drew my stomach toward him and kissed it, looking up into my eyes with wanton desire.
“If you were mine, I wouldn't let you out of my sight. I'd fuck you senseless every night too. How ever you wanted me to. I would never tire of making you cum and cum and cum…”
This vile invader of what Noah and I had made my blood boil. He had no concept, and yet, his point of view reminded me that I was perpetually denying myself what I really wanted.
“You don't understand,” I said, taking a step back.
The young man disrobed before me until he was fully naked. He was scrumptious beyond compare: muscled, hairless, pale and just a little above my height. I wanted him to pin me down and thrust himself inside me. He pushed his body up against mine and held me, his cock upright against my stomach. My breasts against his smooth chest ignited my want to greate
r heights. I needed pounding with the ferocity I knew he possessed. He stroked my hair and tried to kiss me, but I wouldn't allow it.
“What am I missing?” he asked.
“My service is not about penetration. I show the Initiates a little trick or two. I send them back to their wives with renewed vigour.”
“I don't have a wife or a girlfriend, though,” he growled, tickling my ear with his tongue, insisting, “he need never know. I won't tell.”
“That's all well and good but I can't lie to him. He will see through me.”
“But, you do want me?” he goaded.
“That's not the issue. If he finds out about this, you may even get fired.”
“What? For shagging his whore?”
For that, I slapped the man. In that instant, he became vile and detestable.
“Get out,” I said.
“No, I want my money's worth.”
“Fine, get on the floor.”
I made him lie down and asked, “I take it the foot thing wasn't a lie?”
“No, it wasn't.”
And with my feet, I raped his cock so that he erupted like Mount Vesuvius all over himself and the bathroom floor. He spewed his misspent spunk more than once. Many times. He was ripe and it anguished me that his cock was so wasted. I wanted it inside me but that could not happen. I got up and angrily asked, “Why no wife or girlfriend?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“You're a fuck, you know that?”
“Yeah and you're an idiot for letting him string you along. Any man who does that to a beauty like you must be a knob-jockey.”
I sensed this reprobate was unhappy about his treatment at work perhaps, or lacking a promotion he felt he deserved. He didn't know the intricacies of my love affair with Noah.
“Noah at least knows when to shut the fuck up and get his cock out, not spew some sob story.”
I turned on my heel and dressed quicker than I ever had before, simply pulling on jeans and t-shirt, gathering my underwear and bolting out of there. I was furious and had words for my Master.
Later, as I relayed the story to Noah, he asked that he be given a demonstration of how I raped the milky white cock with my feet. Then, for my insolence (in having let the buck lick me), Noah forced me to rim him while I pumped his cock again, with my palm clamped around him. I was forced to sleep that night tied up, blindfolded and gagged, and every few hours, he woke to touch my clit with his tongue, but never to bring me to a head. When I cursed him, he slapped me. Then, in the morning, anguished from unfulfilled longing, he pressed his cock in me and fucked me wildly, while I was still tied and gagged. I adored his possession and ownership of me. I furiously orgasmed until his cock buckled under my command. I squirted several times and my orgasm made me prostrate for minutes afterward. He untied me and lavished me with kisses and declarations.
Soon after, in the shower, he was inside me again.
“Why did you send the young buck to me?” I asked, as he moved slowly inside me.
“As a treat.” He kissed my nose.
“For whom?”
“Me,” he brazenly admitted.
“You meant to infuriate me? You meant to…”
“Yes, I meant for all this. It gets better every time you're naughty with those men.”
I had to admit, it did.
“What about…” I trailed off, but thought better of asking him if he feared I may one day have my head turned. What if I had actually been so tempted that I let the man have his way with my pussy?
Noah smiled and kissed my mouth. “Nobody can touch us,” he said, arrogantly.
I did not know whether that was true.
That was before the miscarriage…
Chapter XXIV
Undoing Me
Noah and I took a holiday to the Maldives after my miscarriage but it might have been the worst thing we ever did. No matter how much we tried to enjoy our remote little island hut surrounded by truly ethereal landscape, we couldn't. We both tried to hold in our emotions but it was no use. Stuck together, and feeling blue, we couldn't hide our feelings. I shut down completely and refused to talk, but he tried to agitate a reaction. In the end, we couldn't bear to be in the same room together, unless to paint on smiles for the attentive waiters who speed-boated huge buffets of food across to our little pad. We never said the words but we blamed one another for the situation we were now in and we each felt unable to cope with our emotions. I thought all for the best, imagining such a place might give us the return to happiness we each so desperately needed. The purest blues that blurred the scorching sky and Indian Ocean into one were no solace whatsoever. Sweet breezes sweeping through the terrace doors were negligible. The food taunted us. The bed tortured us though its saving grace was its size, so we didn't have to sleep squashed together.
Little things, such as his tendency to leave mess everywhere, started driving me insane. So, I started doing the same. He looked at me like I was shit on his shoe and tried to hold back the snarling quips he had about my childishness. My love of order and cleanliness had always been a joke of ours but became a weapon of his to try and force me into an argument. I knew he wanted an excuse to make me hate him; to make him feel easier. Neither could say what we actually felt – that we hadn't asked to fall in love and now found ourselves in this situation. We did anything to avoid the real issue and the more dirty underwear he left strewn, the more I did. The more teabags he left on the side, the more I did. The more I slammed doors, the more he did. It was so stupid and the flight home was awful. I spent it pretending to sleep and he spent it getting drunk and being rude to the aircrew.
I knew that the things were we avoiding – that we had been suppressing for so long – were threatening to undo us (the us that was convinced we were content with our relationship being all about the sex). Up until that point, all we had ever worried about was what underwear I'd wear on his next visit, what food I would buy, what positions we would try next or how much I had wanted my recent clients but had declined because I loved him. I was totally aware of how much this was ruining my ability to keep the low self-esteem at bay, but he had no idea. I also knew there were things he was hiding, still.
He would say, “Why do you love me?”
I would respond, “Because I do.”
My response never satisfied him. It did not matter how many orgasms I endured. I did not know how to transform our relationship into the real thing. Those weekend visits and the distance between us that made “our hearts grow fonder” were all part of the fantasy binding us. I wished I had the ability to make him see inside my mind and see what I felt; feel how he made my skin tingle and my heart race. I had chosen him over everyone else but that still did not seem enough.
We returned home and agreed to have a break from one another. I was adamant about returning to work and even if my boss had told me to go home, I think she knew I simply wouldn't listen. I believed work would give me purpose and help me clear my head.
People stayed out of my way, fearful of the mood they might find me in. I became surplus to requirements really, so much so that I spent most of the day shining up old pennies with brown sauce. I became convinced the hotel needed cleansing of this filthy infestation and I went around emptying all the tills in the building, making it my sole purpose in life to simply clean dirty old coins.
Someone must have called or emailed Noah and he turned up one day. We hadn't seen one another for around four weeks. He walked into my office and locked the door. He saw all the thousands of one and two penny coins across my desk, piled up neatly, waiting to be sorted into neat little parcels for the bank. On my top tray was a bunch of invoices and order forms waiting to be dealt with.
“Let's get to work,” he said, and hung up his coat, sitting down in a chair to ask me where to begin.
“Those bags,” I said.
“Okay. And then I shall do the paperwork for you. I may need a little help from you though.”
“Okay,
” I stuttered, and started crying.
I walked toward him and he wrapped his arms around me.
“The doctor warned me this might happen,” he said.
“Who called you?”
“Rochelle. Nice girl. Only friend you seem to have here.”
“I know. She is nice. What did the doctor say?”
“Given your history, he said you might become depressed.”
“I don't feel right, that's true. I don't.”
“We'll go to the doctors. Together.”
“Okay.”
We did indeed visit my trusted GP back home in Epworth and I was prescribed some medication and advised to speak to a counsellor. Noah met all the family. My sister flirted with him outrageously but he was unperturbed. He moved toward me and held my hand, kissing it, while everyone looked on gobsmacked.
I think he was nothing like they expected. He was polite and a lot older than me, well-dressed and handsome, not really debonair but definitely of sufficient character. I was frightened to leave him with them in a room in case they told him things about me I did not want him to know. In the end, I was too exhausted to fight back. I went to bed and no doubt they stayed up all night discussing my condition. That was the first time I felt the urge to run away from all my problems. Everyone was in on it then. I had decided to take the pills the doctor gave me but I had also decided not to trust anyone I knew ever again. Noah was encroaching on the life I thought I had left behind. I felt like that lesser person with him then and it was unbearable.
The fantasy was dying.
Being with someone was a daily battle for me because I had spent almost 30 years looking after myself before he came along. That was a struggle. Thinking about someone else's feelings too was terrifying. I sometimes felt that I was better off alone, unless we could maintain the great fucking we had been doing. Unless we could pretend that I wasn't depressed and hadn't suffered a miscarriage, not to mention everything else, the extreme orgasms we were used to enjoying would no doubt die.
Noah crept into my room at around 2am and got under the covers with me, threading his cold arms and hands around me. I was wearing one of my old threadbare nighties. I jolted out of sleep.
A Fine Profession (The Chambermaid's Tales Part One) Page 30
