“If I tell you, Antonia, you must promise never to tell anyone.”
Antonia made a zip movement across her wide mouth. She sat in awed silence while Caroline told her about her kidnap from Copacabana beach, and her jaw dropped when she got to the bit about being rescued by Andreas.
“He fired a gun and burst into the basement?” said Antonia.
“Yes, he says he frightened the kidnappers away. But I had made a trap at the top of the stairs and he fell down. I thought he was unconscious. I didn’t know it was Andreas because he was wearing a balaclava. It’s all got mixed up in my mind. I don’t know if he was really unconscious. Can a man have an erection when they’re unconscious?”
“I don’t know,” said Antonia. “Probably. How do you know he had an erection?”
“I could feel it when I was searching his pocket for the keys to the house. I was trying to escape. But then the man in black awoke like Prince Charming and we fell into each other’s arms. Like in a novel, but the sex was wilder. Now every time Robert and I start making love I imagine he’s a stranger in a balaclava holding me captive.”
“Have you told Robert about this?”
“God no, I haven’t told anybody. The whole kidnap thing is meant to be hush-hush. Andreas reckons it was probably a competitor trying to scare us away from the South American market.”
“Well you shouldn’t feel bad about it,” said Antonia. “It’s completely understandable. You must have been terrified. Great fantasy, too.” She smiled supportively. “Maybe it would spoil things if you told Robert what happened. I’m glad you and him have been getting on great. One mistake in a whole year isn’t bad.”
“I wish it was just Andreas. I’m going to sound like a complete slut, but I’ve got to tell someone. Let’s go somewhere else. I need a dark corner.” Caroline paid with the company credit card and Antonia tipped the waiter with cash and a smile, slipping him her card with a twenty pound note.
They walked across Trafalgar Square and stopped to look at the tall Norwegian tree covered with lights. Antonia read the children’s poems on banners around the bottom of the tree. It brought a tear to Caroline’s eye. They headed up along Charing Cross Road. The world had a rosy glow. Although it was only mid-afternoon, the lights and decorations were beginning to stand out brightly. The streets seemed full of cheerful, animated people. They cut across into Soho and found the kind of bar frequented by actors between parts, journalists between stories, and musicians between gigs.
Caroline found a suitably gloomy corner, illuminated only by a tea light. Antonia bought two vodka and limes from the bar. Caroline drank it much too quickly, but just before passing the point when things would get out of hand, she had the good sense to text Robert and tell him she would need scooping up when he left work.
“He could scoop you up too, Antonia, if you like?”
“Thanks. I’ll share your cab to Waterloo and then carry on to London Bridge. But come on, spill the beans. Who else has been enjoying Bluebell’s charms?”
She told Antonia about meeting Erik Bellinker on a train, and how she had posed for a charity painting, and how he had kept making doe eyes at her until she thought what the hell, why not, except that when she thought that she was with two young men at a party who were after a job.
“Slow down, slow down. Erik? He was your first serious lover, wasn’t he? The one who you made love to in a glade of bluebells?”
“Bluebells? That was later on. But yes, he was very important to me. And he kept going on about how he still loved me and I would always be the only one. And I nearly fell for it. But it’s over now, the painting’s finished. There’s a big event next week when the twelve paintings will be shown to the critics and auctioned. The artists and models will be there and Princess Thingy, and the board of the cancer charity. Do you want to come? I can get you an invite.”
“What day is it? I should be back in Frankfurt, but I could fly over for the day.”
Caroline checked her smartphone. “Thursday.”
Antonia didn’t check anything. “Put me down for ticket. I’ve never met a famous artist before. So what put you off Erik? An affair sounds exciting.”
“Erik is into weird things and has strange friends. He wasn’t happy just with me in his bed, he’s a free spirit. The one good thing about the trip to South America was that it gave me chance to see what an idiot I was. He does this with all his models, tells them they’re unique and special, but always having at least two on the go. He did the same thing when I was nineteen.” Her eyes moistened.
Antonia took her hand on the table. “With you, it’s true. You are unique and special. And he’s just a jerk. Let’s change the subject. How’s your mother?”
“Which one?”
“You’ve got more than one mother? One’s too many for me.”
“Didn’t I tell you I was adopted? Bettina brought me up, she’s my real mother. We discussed whether I should try and get in touch with my birth mother. I’ve been to an adoption charity that puts people back in touch. They don’t know who she is yet, but even when they find her she might refuse to meet me. Sandra from the agency says that’s quite common. It’s a shock for people after so many years.”
“I suppose it would be,” said Antonia. “How exciting, a mystery mother. I wish I could swap mine for a different one.”
“We might not get on at all. I might hate her. I know part of me is angry at her for giving me up for adoption.”
“Let’s have another drink before Robert comes,” said Antonia. “I’m having so much fun. Same again?” Antonia leaned her slight frame against the bar for support and made eyes at the barman, who had seen it all before and affected to take no notice.
“So,” said Antonia, plonking a drink in front of Caroline, “you’ve been nude modelling for a famous artist, kidnapped in Rio de Janeiro, ravaged by your boss, and are seeking a secret mother. Now tell me your gossip.”
“Don’t tease me Antonia. You make it sound like I have no morals. You know I try to do the right thing. Anyway, you can talk. I haven’t forgotten what you did with my husband last year.”
“I haven’t forgotten either, but I hope you don’t blame him. I made him tie me up, I wanted to know what it was like.”
“Antonia. It’s not just that I’ve had a bit to drink, I forgive you. I forgave Robert too, ages ago. I even offered to let him tie me up.”
“And did he?”
“Not properly. It was my fault. I couldn’t take it seriously. I laughed at him for being lousy at knots and he got offended. But I would try it again. I like the idea of him being masterful and me being at his mercy.”
“Their egos are so fragile,” said Antonia. “You have to pretend to take them seriously.”
“Who’s got a fragile ego?” Robert had found them in the corner of the bar, and they had been so engrossed they had not seen him come in. “You two look like you’ve been here a while.” He bent down through the alcohol fumes and kissed Caroline and then Antonia.
“Le’ me get you a drink,” said Antonia.
“No, you sit there, I’ll get them. Just one, then we’d better get going. I don’t want Caroline snoring on the train back to Guildford.” Robert disappeared to the bar, busier now that offices and shops had released their slaves.
“As I was saying,” said Antonia, “you have to make it seem serious, unless the man’s a bastard to start with. I had to provoke Robert, be a bit stroppy, and then he was putty in my hands. Let’s get him back to my place and I’ll show you what to do.”
“We could give Robert a treat,” said Caroline. “I think I owe him one. Would you mind? Could three squeeze into your bed? It would balance the account and I wouldn’t have to feel guilty about those two young men at the party.”
The two women conspired while Robert waited patiently at the bar. He still felt like a gooseberry even after a double malt whiskey. The women kept whispering to each other and dissolving into laughter half way through a sentence. Ev
entually he ushered them out into the foggy rush hour and hailed a black cab to take them to Waterloo.
Caroline and Antonia sat with their arms around each other as they edged through the busy streets while Robert perched on the pull down seat opposite them. They were obviously up to something, high as kites, their skirts riding up their legs. It was a pity that Caroline would inevitably be lulled to sleep by the boring train journey and by the time they got home the fun would have gone out of her. Caroline leaned forward and took Robert’s hand.
“Darling, Guildford is such a long way away. Why don’t we stay up in town tonight?”
“It’s not a bad idea,” said Robert. He pulled out his phone to look up a late hotel booking.
“No, you don’t need a hotel,” said Antonia, waving her hand. “You can stay at my place. You two can have the bedroom and I’ll make up the sofa bed.”
“Where am I going?” said the taxi driver, wearily.
“Still London Bridge, but no need go via Waterloo,” said Robert. “Just take a left along the river before the station.”
“I see you haven’t forgotten where she lives,” said Caroline, trying her best to look severe. “I’ve only just realised Antonia’s flat wasn’t really on your way home, was it?”
Ten minutes later they were in the mirrored lift speeding up to the twenty-first floor. Antonia had her arms round Caroline’s neck and was giving her a snog. Robert feared a messy situation but let Antonia pour him a glass of red wine. The women would probably pass out soon, they must have been drinking since lunch time.
Antonia staggered around collecting bed linen and began pulling cushions off the sofa. She scratched her blond bob, unsure how the thing was meant to turn into a bed. Robert took over and wrestled with the contraption until it was flat enough to lie down on.
Antonia took Caroline’s hand. “Come into my bedroom. I want to show you my toys.” She turned to Robert and gave him a wicked look. She didn’t shut the door. She opened the fitted wardrobe and took out her box of equipment, updated and supplemented since her first experiment with Robert. Caroline appeared to take great interest in each item, asking Antonia to demonstrate how the cuffs and clamps worked. Robert poured himself another glass of wine, got out his tablet computer to follow the football, and tried to ignore the giggles and ominous silences that came from the bedroom.
After a particularly long silence, he went up to the bedroom door and peered round.
“Are you two all right in there? Still conscious?”
“You can have the sofa bed,” said Caroline, emerging from under Antonia’s duvet. “We’ll have the proper bed.”
Robert felt a flash of annoyance; bloody selfish women! He’d been hopeful of exciting drink-fuelled sex with Caroline, and here she was smooching with Antonia. He should have insisted on a hotel. He lay down on the so-called sofa bed, comparing it unfavourably to the rack at Dunlaggin Castle, which at least would provide some support for the back. He tried to block out the giggles and moans of pleasure that were coming from the bedroom and concentrate on the text updates of the football scores. Was that moan Caroline or Antonia?
“Robert?” Antonia’s head peeked round the bedroom door. “I was trying to show Caroline how to use my things but it’s no good in the bedroom, there’s nothing to fix anything to. Caroline was wondering if we could swap rooms for a while and then I could tie Caroline to the coffee table like you did with me.”
Robert stomped into the bedroom. Caroline wouldn’t meet his eyes. She wrapped Antonia’s duvet around her and scooted through to the living area. Antonia collected the equipment from the bedroom and instructed Caroline where to lie, face down across the cold glass of the long low table. Antonia worked her way round the table securing Caroline’s bare limbs to the legs with a mixture of cuffs and ties. She deliberately made a poor job of it and Caroline complained loudly that it was no good, she could easily move if she wanted to.
Robert was determined not to get drawn into their antics and pushed the bedroom door shut. He checked the tablet: Manchester United losing at half time. This was turning into a bad day.
Antonia pushed the bedroom door ajar. “Robert?”
“Yes?”
“Caroline’s been a naughty girl. Not only does she keep trying to get away, but she says her boss Andreas is more of a man than you are.”
“Does she, indeed?”
“She told me she keeps having fantasies about him.”
Robert slammed the tablet down on the bed and marched into the living room.
“What’s this about your boss? Don’t tell me…”
Caroline smirked at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I’ve been wicked and I need to be pulled into line, but you’ll have to tie me up tighter first.” She waved an arm and a leg.
Robert was hooked. He re-secured the ties and tightened the leather cuffs until she really couldn’t move an inch. He handed Antonia two long black feathers and ordered her to use them all over Caroline’s body.
“No, stop.” She laughed and wriggled around on the table but the ties held firm.
“Confess,” said Robert.
“I haven’t done anything,” said Caroline. “I’m innocent.”
“Why did you say that about your boss? Antonia, spank her until she confesses.”
Four loud slaps later, Caroline was still protesting her innocence. Antonia went back to the bedroom and emerged with a leather flail.
“This stings a bit,” said Antonia. “I remember.”
“I’m sworn to secrecy,” said Caroline. “Do your worst.”
When he and Caroline had tried this before, when she had laughed at his ropemanship, he hadn’t been able to slap Caroline properly with his hand or anything else. This time he swung the flail with enthusiasm.
Antonia watched Caroline’s bottom turn red and was turned on by the spectacle. She pulled down her knickers, got down on the floor, and presented herself to Caroline’s mouth. Caroline licked steadily and delicately like a cat between strokes of the flail, but nipped Antonia when the flail stung her flesh so that they cried out together.
Robert was still dressed. He was tempted to get his tablet and take a picture of the scene before him, but knew it would look seedy out of context. So instead he took off his shirt, knelt down, and pushed his face between Caroline’s reddening legs, using his tongue to replace intense pain with intense pleasure. She fought against her restraints to open herself up to his tongue and he used his hands to spread her buttocks more. Every jab of his tongue sent another shudder through his wife’s body.
Antonia soaked up the sexual energy coursing through Caroline and used firm fingers to circle the hood of her own clitoris, enhancing the intermittent lapping of Caroline’s tongue. She pressed herself into Caroline’s face and nearly smothered her with a long, tumultuous orgasm.
“I saw it, I saw it,” Antonia said triumphantly, when she had regained her breath.
“Saw what?” said Robert.
“My animal guide; a beautiful deer.” Her wide eyes froze on Robert’s. “And you are a snow leopard who is about to consume me.”
“I said you could have sex with him,” said Caroline. “You don’t need to talk twaddle. Just let me off this table first. I want to join in.”
“Why did you say Antonia could have sex with me?” said Robert.
“Don’t you want to?” said Caroline.
“What’s the right answer? I don’t know what’s going on; you left me out of the plotting.”
Antonia took the initiative and started undoing Caroline’s restraints.
“Stop squabbling like a married couple and come to bed with me this moment. I’m absolutely desperate for a proper fuck and bags I go first.” She took Robert’s hand and dragged him through to the bedroom.
Thirteen
Caroline woke early consumed by guilt and thirst. What madness had overcome her? It was so unlike her to feel sexually generous towards Robert. Normally she was as jealous as the next woman. She
wondered if the alcohol could have influenced her judgement.
She stared at the pale lilac wall, feeling a small warm hand resting on her hip. When did the fun time with Antonia turn into the crazy notion that it would be okay to share Robert, even for one night? Caroline turned her head. Antonia was still in the middle, both she and Robert still asleep. He had an arm around Antonia’s waist. Caroline rolled out of the bed and onto the warm wooden floor. She crawled into the bathroom and showered, alternating hot and cold water to revive herself.
Slightly refreshed, she padded back into the bedroom and checked her backside in the mirror of the wardrobe. The redness had gone, apart from a few crossed lines and squiggles like someone had written the start of a symphony on her bottom.
She quietly opened a drawer in the wardrobe in search of a clean pair of knickers. She found the right drawer, but there was nothing the least bit practical. She recognised the silver thong Antonia had worn to the club in Spain; too small. She found a pair of silk French bloomers, black; too big, they would show beneath the hem of her skirt. She went deeper towards the back of the drawer and dug out a stretchy nude Sloggi thong. Just right, they would fit over her hips. She dressed and slipped out of the flat.
It was already noisy in the street below. She managed the short walk to London Bridge Station without stumbling. She picked up a coffee and a bottle of spring water from a cafe on the way into the Underground.
Settling into her seat on the tube another wave of guilt crashed over her. Not about anything in particular, just guilt. And jealousy; she had left the two of them together in bed. Robert was bound to wake up with an enormous erection. He always did the morning after sex, and Antonia never was one to let an erection go to waste. They would be having long, languorous, satisfying morning sex. And she was on the tube to a high rise office in Stratford, world headquarters of Monsaint Medical Instruments.
Everyone on the tube had their nose in a free newspaper or an expensive tablet. She drank the whole bottle of water straight down and sipped the Latte. Once a handful of brain cells had half woken up she reached into her coat pocket for her smartphone. She ignored the texts and answerphone messages and checked her work emails to make sure there were no nasty surprises. Then she looked up the Monsaint share price to make sure it was still going in the right direction to trigger her share options in the New Year. She wanted a new bathroom with a corner bath big enough for her and Robert to be in at the same time and one of those showers like a tropical forest in the rainy season.
Shameless Exposure Page 14
