Climax: Volume 2

by Ella Ford

  I exhaled deeply, thrilled at the warmth of her skin and the proximity of our bodies. I didn’t know where this was going, or what I was doing, but the presence of her was enough to set my heart beating fast.

  She stood before me, completely naked, then stepped forward to the edge of the bath. She held up her hand to me for balance, and I took it, gripping her slender fingers with nervous trepidation. To my surprise, I found that she was trembling. With my support, she lowered herself into the tub, immersing herself in the warm water and soapy bubbles until her tiny breasts were covered.

  “I saw you the other night,” she said, from out of the blue, “watching us, I mean.”

  My mouth hung open and I found myself rocked sideways by the statement. It seemed half revelation, half accusation, and she fixed me with her intense glare and studied me for a hint of a reaction.

  I considered denying it, pretending that I didn’t know what she was talking about. Instead I remained silent, mute and dumbstruck, unable to say anything.

  She sat back in the bath and swished water over her chest and shoulders. “Did you enjoy it?” she said, no longer looking directly at me.

  I shuffled back and forth and touched my fingertip to my mouth, hating the scrutiny and the feelings of guilt and shame. “I’ve…” I began, searching for the words that would make this go away. “I’ve never… seen… that before…” was all I could manage.

  She turned to me and smiled, seemingly enjoying my discomfort. Then she moved her body gracefully across the wide tub and leaned against the side, arms crossed under her chin.

  “Take off your clothes and join me,” she said, gesturing at the bath.

  I felt myself blushing furiously, squirming on the spot and wishing that a hole would open up and swallow me. “I… I can’t. CJ…” I stammered.

  “Don’t worry about CJ. This is between you and me,” she purred, fluttering her eyelashes.

  “I don’t know,” I said, backing away slightly. Inside me, a war raged. Two conflicting emotions, locked in a frantic struggle. My outright revulsion at the thought of what she was proposing, the very idea repulsive for so many reasons; and a deeper, newer, more insistent feeling. One that I dared not face, dared not acknowledge, but could not ignore. It was a compulsion born in the long, sleepless nights following my inadvertent voyeurism and incubated in the steamy dreams that followed.

  “You want to, don’t you?” she whispered.

  I looked at her, steadying myself and inhaling deeply. “Yes,” I breathed, my voice tiny and fragile.

  She pushed back from the edge and leaned her back against the far side of the bath, inviting me forward. I reached behind myself with trembling fingers and unzipped the black dress that I wore, and untied the white apron. I wriggled my body and allowed both to fall to the floor, then kicked them aside. I suddenly felt very exposed, standing before Sarah in my bra and pantyhose. I wrapped my arm around my breasts, a vain attempt to protect my modesty while I stepped out of my flat shoes. I turned my body away from the bath and unfastened my bra, letting it fall down my arms to the floor, not yet ready to show myself to her. Then I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of the pantyhose and slid them over my hips and thighs, along with my panties.

  Finally, I was completely naked with my back to the tub. I could feel the weight of her stare on me, studying me, eyes flicking over my back and my ass, down the slender line of my legs. I felt terrified and invigorated in equal measure, thrilled to be so exposed and vulnerable, but deathly afraid of the step I was about to take. With a final deep breath, I turned and stepped over to the tub, still covering my breasts and my pussy with my hands.

  “You’re nervous, I like that,” she said as I stepped into the water.

  I lowered myself down, unable to look her directly in the eye. I coiled my legs and arms close to me, reluctant for our bodies to touch, even by accident. Then she shifted and pushed herself forwards and positioned herself beside me. I felt the warmth of her body next to mine and her quick breath on my skin. I shied away, turning my body so that my back was towards her.

  She responded by wrapping her legs around my waist and pulling herself against me. I gasped as her slick skin touched mine, the gentle firmness of her breasts nudging me. I could feel her hot breath on my neck and her fingers gripping my upper arms, roaming up and down, every tender touch sending jolts of electricity through my body.

  “This… this is wrong…” I protested, knowing that I sounded half-hearted at best.

  “Is it?” she breathed in my ear. “Does this feel wrong?” she said and leaned forward to lightly kiss my neck. I sighed, exhaling deeply as a surge of pleasure raced through my body.

  “N-no,” I replied, unable to move, unwilling to move.

  “What about this?” she asked demurely, and flicked her tongue up the length of my ear, then nibbled lightly on my earlobe.

  “Ah, ah,” was all I could say. From far away, I became aware of an insistent throb between my legs, a dull ache that demanded attention.

  Sarah lifted her head from my ear, and shifted herself, coiling her arms under mine and around my body until her hands found my breasts. I gasped, thrilled by the slick friction of her skin on mine and the sudden enveloping warmth on my rigid nipples. Then she began to tenderly massage my sensitive tits, gripping the hard nubs between her thumb and forefinger and squeezing gently. All the while, she kissed at my neck; delicate pecks that incited my passion to new heights.

  Slowly, I found myself embracing these new feelings, allowing her to manipulate my body and heightening the feeling of lustful desire that was washing through me. Suddenly, I turned myself. Swinging my legs around, I wrapped my limbs around her body and faced her. Our faces were inches apart, both breathing heavily, studying the other as a lioness studies her prey. We lingered there for an eternity, our moist lips close to touching but neither of us daring to take the leap, wishing only to prolong this moment of perfect tension for as long as we could.

  And then, as one, we found each other. Lips pressed together with hungry intensity. I felt her tongue flick over my lips and I realized what she wanted. I parted my mouth, allowing her access, pushing my own tongue out to meet hers. We found each other and danced together, each one of us desperate for the taste of the other. I shifted my body, moving my hands up to grip her head, sinking my fingers into the damp, dark curls and holding her in place while my hungry mouth explored her.

  My mind raced, rushing to process these new feelings as I kissed a woman for the first time. I longed to crystalize this moment forever, to savor every precious detail. The velvety softness of her skin against mine, the slick wetness of her lips and tongue, the taste of her mouth, fresh and alive. I craved her like an addict craves his fix, wanted nothing other than her at that moment. All thoughts of reluctance or trepidation were banished in the furious maelstrom of our passion.

  And then I felt her hand work its way down my body, caressing my stomach, my hips, my thighs, then finding its quarry between my legs. I gasped, pausing on her mouth as her fingers parted my labia and began to delve deep into my throbbing pussy. A wave of pleasure washed over me, radiating outwards from my loins and igniting my torso and limbs. I clutched her tighter, pulling her towards me with fevered intensity.

  Then I felt her fingertips brush against my clitoris and my universe collapsed down to this single focal point, the perfect contact of our mouths and my pussy. I allowed her to begin her work. Nervous and reluctant at first, she set about her exploration with trepidation, identifying landmarks and noting the terrain. But then she picked up pace, gathering confidence as she found my trigger points and exploited them mercilessly.

  I felt myself become frozen, breathing deeply, mouth stationary on hers, unwilling yet to relinquish that electric touch. Her fingertips moved in swift circles, alternately pressing and rubbing at my aching clit. I cried out with increasingly frequency, soft pants that voiced my desire. My hand fell to her neck and I began to kiss her frantically again, rewa
rding her with my tongue for every glorious touch of her fingers.

  Distantly, I became aware of a looming entity within me. Some irresistible point of no return that I strived for and turned away from with equal fervor. At once it was on me, begging for attention, clamoring for the sweet kiss of release and the warm hug of climax. But I resisted for as long as I could, not wanting this moment to end, not wanting to be free of her hands, her mouth, her whole body. I wanted us to be joined, to become a single entity, skin swallowing skin. But my resistance was in vain and the lure of the orgasm became too much.

  I took one final deep breath, then held it, a final stand against the forces that lay siege to me. Then I surrendered and released myself into the waiting maelstrom. I screamed out as it took hold of me, my voice shrill and loud in the pristine bathroom.

  Sarah wrapped her arm around me, her other hand still locked tightly on my exploding pussy. She pulled me closed, maximising the points of contact on our slippery skin, hoping to share in my moment of pure pleasure.

  The orgasm raged inside me, sending my thoughts skyward and obliterating my senses in a blossoming sphere of white noise. I arched my spine and pushed my head back, my neck straining against the storm within. I felt as though it was too much, the energy too intense for me to internalize and process. I feared that it might eat me alive, and a distant part of me welcomed the prospect of black oblivion.

  But in time, it left me and I collapsed forward against Sarah, my body melting into hers. She caressed my back with light strokes of her nails and I shuddered at every touch, every nerve ending still aflame with the memory of the fading storm.

  As I recovered, I was suddenly overcome with a feeling of guilt and shame. The fading ember of my pleasure being replaced by a nagging feeling of doubt and regret.

  I pulled away from her, barely able to look her in the face. I stood and swung my legs over the side of the bath, dripping water everywhere.

  “What’s wrong Leanne?” she asked, sounding concerned and nervous. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “N-no,” I stuttered, “this… this was wrong… I shouldn’t…”

  But that was all I could manage. I bent down and scooped up my clothes and shoes, then hurried through the door and back to my room.

  What had I done?

  Chapter 4

  Looking back, I realize that the rational thing would have been to leave. To simply pack my bag, call a taxi and find my way back to my old life and my simple hopes and dreams. But I didn’t, and that speaks volumes to me now.

  Instead, I soldiered on, spending the whole of the following day going about my business, completing my chores and avoiding any contact with Sarah whatsoever. I tried not to think about the previous night, and what we’d done. I guess I hoped that if I ignored it, the foreign feelings and intense emotions would go away and it would all be forgotten about. How naive.

  Later that day, CJ arrived home. It was after I’d finished work and I didn’t leave my room to greet her. Instead, I watched TV for a while then fell asleep, still wearing my uniform.

  Hours later, I woke suddenly, roused from my sleep by a distant sound. I yawned and screwed up my eyes, then tilted my head to the side in concentration, struggling to hear the noise again.

  Swish-crack, came the sound again. It was tiny and faint, barely audible over the constant sound of the garden insects. I wondered what it could be. Maybe an animal had gotten in the house and was rummaging through the laundry room? But it didn’t sound like that, it was too rhythmic and regular.

  Swish-crack. I heard it again, clearer this time. I stood up, any thought of sleep now replaced by curiosity and a need to know what was causing the peculiar sound. I tiptoed over to the door and pressed my ear against it.

  Swish-crack. It seemed to be coming from the hallway, in the direction of the front door. I stepped back, pondering what to do. I didn’t want to wake CJ or Sarah, but I had to know what was happening. With nervous trepidation, I opened the door and stepped out into the hall, then padded lightly towards the living room end of the house.

  As I approached the main entrance, I became aware of something strange. The door to the basement was slightly ajar and a faint warm light was spilling out through the tiny crack. I stopped, shocked at this discrepancy. Hadn’t CJ said that the light down there was broken? And what was someone doing down there at this time of night? Was it a burglar? Should I call the police?

  I looked around, wondering if either of my employers had woken up, but no-one seemed to be stirring.

  Swish-crack. The same noise, louder this time, and definitely coming from the direction of the basement.

  I sighed and stepped forward towards the sound, simultaneously terrified and curious. I reached the door and gripped the handle, touching it nervously as though I feared it might be scalding hot. Then I pulled it open quickly and jumped back.

  I sighed in relief as I was confronted by a staircase and nothing more. There was a door at the bottom and a single lightbulb hanging above the steps. The far door was closed tightly, and I swore I could hear the light murmur of voices behind it.

  Against my better judgement, I stepped forward again and descended the staircase, taking light steps with my flat shoes on the bare wood of the steps. I reached the bottom without making a sound and pushed my ear against the door, straining to make out the sounds from within. I heard a woman talking, but could not make out her words.

  It must be CJ or Sarah, or both. But what were they doing at this time of night? My curiosity burned like a supernova and I was desperate to know more, but I knew that it was none of my business. I turned to leave and placed a single foot on the bottom step.

  Creak! The stair cried out as I placed my weight on it and I froze in place. The light buzz of conversation behind the door stopped abruptly and I felt my heart skip a beat as I realized that I was caught.

  “Come in please Leanne,” said a firm voice from the other side. It was CJ, I would recognize that husky tone anywhere. I considered running, making my way back to my room and then packing a bag and leaving. This house was too weird, too intense. But I remained in place. “I know you’re there. Why don’t you come in and join us? Sarah would be very happy to see you,” she added, and I realized then that CJ knew about what had happened.

  Every instinct told me to flee, to take the stairs two at time and never look back. Instead, I found myself driven by another urge, a different instinct. I turned to face the door and gripped the handle, and pushed my way in.

  As I entered the basement, two things struck me. First, the decor. The basement was not the musty collection of boxes and possessions that I’d expected. Instead, it was done out in a plush, elegant style. Every wall was deep burgundy and clad to waist height with rich mahogany paneling. A pair of chairs and a chaise longue lined the walls, quilted in plush dark velvet that screamed of opulence. On every surface, a candle burned, proving the only light in the dim room. These flickering flames caused the shadows in the room to dance and twitch. And, most unusual of all, hanging form the walls, on a multitude of hooks and fixings, were implements - objects that appeared to have only one purpose: the infliction of pain and pleasure.

  My eyes flicked around, unable to settle on one thing at a time. One wall seemed to be dedicated to sex toys. A parade of dildos and vibrators and other objects that I couldn’t identify. A gaudy display of debauchery that seemed at odds with the tasteful decor in the room. Another wall contained nothing but whips and floggers; harsh leather handles and trailing cords that fell down the wall in a cascade of filaments.

  When the shock of my surroundings faded, my eyes settled on the two occupants of the room and I gasped anew.

  Standing in the center was CJ. She looked utterly different to her normal appearance, wearing an outfit that was dark and alluring. On her body, she wore a dark crimson corset, pulled tight around her waist, her full breasts spilling out over the top of the garment. Her legs were clad in sheer, black nylon stockings and she wore tall
black pumps with a spiked stiletto heel. Her face was heavily made-up, with dark, smokey eyes and rich, dark lips that gave her a gothic appearance and contrasted sharply with her short shock of blonde hair. In her hand, she was holding one of the floggers, waving it lazily back and forth as she studied me.

  As I watched, she turned her face to Sarah, as though inviting me to follow her gaze. I turned my head and looked at the brunette, too numb to react to what I saw.

  CJ’s lover was lying with her back on a raised bench. She was completely naked with her arms tied under her with a complex harness of ropes around her chest. Her legs were tied as well, her ankles secured to her thighs with three turns of rope that was cinched in the middle to prevent it slipping. Her bound legs were then held up and back by trailing lengths of cord that were tied to the far end of. The effect was to force her legs open and wide, revealing the inviting pink of her pussy and the gaping chasm of her ass. I strained to see her face, and she turned her head to me. I gasped as I realized that she was wearing a ball gag, a bright red sphere held between her teeth. A thin strand of drool snaked from the corner of her mouth to the table below.

  “Beautiful isn’t she?” asked CJ with a wry smile.

  I remained completely silent, not knowing what to say, what to think, what to do.

  “Did you enjoy your bath last night?” she said, turning towards me, studying me for a hint of a reaction.

  I felt a warm flush rise up my chest and neck, spreading to my face. “I…” was all I could manage to say.

  “Oh don’t worry. Sarah was just doing as I told her to,” she purred.

  “I-I don’t understand,” I said, realizing how painfully naive and idiotic I sounded.

  CJ stepped over to me and I didn’t attempt to back away, knowing that it would be pointless, but also rooted to the spot for another reason… She stood before me and lightly stroked the back of her fingers down my cheek. I sighed at her touch and closed my eyes.