by Alexis Shore
Stepping through the gap between two Grecian columns, she smiled at the raised hot tub. It seemed an odd thing to be tucked away in such opulent surroundings, but here it was, sitting on a shallow plinth of marble.
“What?” Tom’s voice nearly made her jump.
“Nothing,” she sighed, “Just. This is where I had my first orgasm.”
“How old were you?”
She was a little embarrassed to admit she was sixteen, and so lied.
“Fifteen??” he spluttered, “God, no wonder you’ve had so much catching up to do.”
She didn’t now what that meant, but sensed it was slightly insulting. So what if she was a late bloomer? It wasn’t a race.
Her feet lifted her onto the plinth, and she swung her leg over the edge of the tub and stepped into it. Her heavy boots felt decidedly odd on her now as they rattled in the empty belly of its bowl.
She settled down into it, and felt the cold against her exposed flesh. She finally realised exactly how much of her the outfit put on display.
Maybe that was the fascination.
Tom began to slowly circle the tub with the gliding camera, and she closed her eyes, surprised to hear her voice begin to tell the story.
“Ophelia had been off gallivanting around the Orient, and she arrived back in England just in time for my birthday. She’d been teasing me endlessly for being a prude and not indulging in a little onanistic pleasure. So she bought me back …”
A thought occurred to Katherine, and she opened her eyes before quickly leaning over the edge of the tub and tapping at the wooden slats that framed it. She found the loose one, and pulled it free. It took some stretching and delving, but she eventually located it.
She was aware the camera had been fixated on her shorts pressing tightly in to her bottom, but she didn’t care. She settled back in to a comfy recline and fumbled with the velvet bag. It took her a moment to coax open the knotted drawstring, and she plunged her hand into it eagerly. Her fingers wrapped around the cool glass, and felt the nodule pressing into her flesh.
“This,” she declared, pulling free the beautiful dildo that had been her sixteenth birthday gift. It wasn’t too long, and it was fabulously crafted. The glass was utterly frictionless.
“I refused to use it for weeks,” she continued, fingering at the strap around her thigh without realising it, “but she kept haranguing me, so just to hush her mouth, I bought it down here, ran the tub, and well.”
She sat forward and pulled the stupid gun holsters away, before she knew she had done it. Just then, she felt she should rid herself of the boots, but she didn’t want to waste any time fussing with the laces.
Instead, she tugged open the shorts and plunged her hand deep between her legs.
Tom had gone very quiet.
The Lady Katherine felt her silky wet lips pouting at her touch.
Her sex was already preparing itself for the pleasure to come. She pulled the shorts from her hips and kicked them down her legs. The cool tub against her naked ass felt scrummy, and her thighs opened wide.
She delved in to the velvet bag once more, and retrieved the half used bottle of lubricant. Squeezing a generous dollop onto her crotch, she hissed slightly at the temperature, but it soon began to warm as she massaged it sloppily into herself, mixing with her own natural juices.
Another copious squirt dribbled onto the glass shaft, and she began to stroke it over and around its length.
With a flick of her head, she licked her lips, looked down at her glistening pussy and spread it wide with her fingers. The smooth tip penetrated her with ease, and her cooch pulled it inside greedily. She let out a long contented ‘ahhhhhhh’.
It felt as good as she remembered, as she pushed it in all the way to the hilt and held it there with her muscles. The first time she did this, she had let her mind drift to a boy she once fancied, but today she fantasised vividly about the weekend shenanigans to come.
The world around her drifted in to the distance, and within moments she was fucking herself with vigorous abandon. The greedy slurps from her soaking purse echoed around the tub, and she felt as dirty and whore-like as she had the first time.
Her moans were labouring, and she was pumping so hard now even her tiny tits were wobbling with the motion. She gasped loudly, “Call me names.”
But no names came, and she hissed the command more insistently.
“Does that feel good you filthy bitch?”
“Yessss,” and her hand worked even harder. “Again.”
“Again? What are you, a fucking whore?”
“Yes. Yessss.”
“Come for me then you dirty little slut.”
Her screams echoed around the atrium, and her body convulsed violently as it exploded from her with such vehemence and force that her pussy pushed the dildo free and it clattered about the tub.
Chapter Six
Lady Katherine has realised she likes to be spanked.
“Are you serious?” Tom spluttered, nearly dropping his camera.
“Of course,” Katherine shrugged.
“But she’s gorgeous.”
“You just like her tits.”
He rolled his eyes as if the thought had never occurred to him, but it was obvious she was right.
The email had been from the wife of a prominent personality, who was known in her own right as a writer. Katherine had briefly met her at the premiere of the movie she’d recently written – a rather fun, if filthy, popcorn affair. She was famous for her shocking pink hair and ample assets.
She was a petite little thing really, which is why they looked so large against her tiny frame. Katherine had heard gossip that she shared an open relationship, and indulged in the swing scene, though she rarely paid heed to such tittle tattle.
But now she was on her way to the cottage. Alone. And in the mood to make a video. Katherine had asked if she was comfortable with it being posted on the internet, and she had no problem with it whatsoever. In fact, the idea is what made it exciting.
Neil had forced them to hide the last video in a far corner of the site, fearing the wrath of copyright lawyers – but it’d still had thousands of views nonetheless.
Claire would be here soon, and Katherine was getting restless.
It didn’t help that Tom was looking at her with an odd expression on his face. He’d been a little off with her the past few days; he said calling her names up at the house had made him a tad uncomfortable. But she’d watched the video back, and he certainly sounded like he was enjoying himself. She certainly was.
His eyes had lit up the moment she told him they were having guests.
Having was a pertinent word.
Katherine bit in to a strawberry, letting the flesh and juice caress her lips, before sucking it back into her mouth and sucking into her bite mark greedily.
The Lady Katherine was getting horny again.
She dismissed Tom and made her way up to her dressing room, where she began to wile away the hours trying on different outfits. Between each change of clothing, she would recline on her Regency quilted ottoman and slowly strum her pearl, wallowing in the delayed pleasure, but never quite reaching her peek.
She tried tying her hair in a plethora of different styles. Elaborate French braids gave way to loosely tied pigtails, and she even tied it up in a bun.
As she lay back on the ottoman once more, swirling her finger in her downy hair, she contemplated some pubic topiary. But she liked the way it looked, with just a light brush of soft fluff, nothing alarming or wild.
By now she had chosen her evening outfit, and put it to one side ready to be laid out before dinner. But she still had no clue what she should be wearing when she greeted Claire’s arrival.
The idea of nothing momentarily appealed to her, and Katherine teased her fingers inside for the first time all afternoon. Before she could stop herself, she was frigging away, feeling her wet walls expand and contract around her digits. She’d been winding herself up for hours
now, and it wouldn’t take much more to go all the way.
Instead, she pulled herself free, and sucked her sodden fingers greedily into her mouth, just as she had done with the strawberry. She knew which was the more delicious.
With a sigh, she stood up and settled on something cute. So long as it didn’t look like she’d spent hours picking it out that would be fine. Once she’d concocted the look, the hair would follow.
It was unlike her to devote so much time to this endeavour; she normally threw things on quite quickly. That said, she’d spent a lot of that time in here on the ottoman.
She lifted the pale pink dress up in front of her, and tried to remember if she’d ever actually worn it. It released itself from the hanger easily and she draped it over her head, letting it fall and find its shape. The tiny strap looked so flimsy one could bite through them.
That was yummy thought.
It danced around her, and gave a lovely view of her legs. They swept out from under the cotton announcing themselves with a slightly golden lustre. She’d really spent her days in the sun recently.
The rich chime from the front entrance bell echoed and danced through the house, and Katherine bounced, before running her way to the main stairs, where she slowed to a less desperate pace. She stroked her fingers down the banister and Paul answered the door below.
Katherine was pleased to note Tom was not here to document the event.
She noted how Paul stiffened when he saw Claire’s powder pink locks. It was imperceptible to an unaccustomed eye, but Katherine had learnt to spot it the day he caught her masturbating in the kitchen.
Claire was still out of sight, and Katherine moved down the stairs a little more to see her. Well, most of her. She was wearing some adorable denim dungarees and a tight white top. The curves beneath were hard to ignore, but those had never been the focus of Katherine’s attraction.
Finally, Paul invited her in, and she appeared through the door, looking a little bewildered, but the moment she saw Katherine, her face spread into a wide beaming smile.
There. That was what made Lady Katherine’s pussy purr.
The first time she saw it at the premiere it had made her feel so odd that it took her two days to realise it was attraction. She’d never had a crush on a woman before then.
And now she was here, grinning broadly as Katherine bounced down the final few steps.
She was a little shorter than Katherine, which meant a little bow of the head to plant a tiny welcome kiss on her impeccably smooth cheek.
“Did you find us okay?” Katherine asked, feeling the nerves.
“I took a wrong turn and ended up in Cheltenham. Wow.” She was looking round the double storey reception with wide-eyes. Beautiful wide eyes.
“Ma’am?” Paul interjected.
“Oh,” she said, handing him her canvas shoulder bag with a little shake of the head.
“This way please.”
And Paul led them back up the stairs to the guest room that overlooked the orchard. Claire admired the view and Paul gave her the speech.
“Sally isn’t here to attend to you I’m afraid, but if you need anything, do not hesitate to call me,” he finished with a slight nod of the head.
“Right, thank you, yes.”
Katherine made some more chit chat, feeling the sexual frisson between them, revelling in the slightly nervous manner their heightened expectation was fostering.
“I thought you might like a shower before din…”
The moment Paul closed the door, Claire stepped to Katherine and cupped her waist, pressing her mouth to hers with a warm and wet lust. It was so unexpected that Katherine whimpered into it, just as Claire’s tongue danced its way inside her.
It ended almost as abruptly as it started, with a moist puckering noise.
“We’ll save the rest for later shall we?” Claire smiled, stepping away and resuming her dizzy tour of the room.
“The tapestry is Flemish,” Katherine said finally, feeling rather stupid as she did so.
Claire stood up on tiptoe, spying the hall over the top of the apple trees.
“Daddy’s on safari,” Katherine explained, “It’s not quite Sudeley Castle, but we could go and look round if you’d like.”
“No,” she spun round and wandered by her hip, “I’ve got everything I want in this room.”
She gently squeezed Katherine bum, and skipped slightly to the armoire.
“This is fabulous.”
“French. I think it survived the revolution.”
Claire peeked in to the en suite, and saw the stand-alone bath perched on its platform. “What time’s dinner?”
“In an hour.”
“I might have a bath first,” she nearly bounced on her toes.
“I’ll see you in an hour then,” Katherine said, making her way to the door.
“Looking forward to it,” Claire purred.
As the door closed behind her, Katherine leant back against it and rubbed her ass where she’d touched it.
Delicious.
*
Katherine clattered her silver soup spoon into the bone china dish with a deliberate noise. Tom didn’t notice.
His camera had been fixated on Claire’s chest for two courses now, and the food was barely reaching his mouth as he aimed it at his dropped jaw with one hand.
Claire was being good enough to not let it bother her. Seated at the end of the table, with her host to one side, halfway down, and Tom opposite, she was being delightfully entertaining. But as she regaled them with stories of her adventures, all Tom seemed interested in was her tits.
They weren’t easy to ignore, that much was true, but nonetheless.
Her white boned bustiere was doing its best to contain them, and it was a fabulous choice of outerwear for her, but her mountainous globes were plumped up proudly. She had such a slender frame, it seemed impossible for them to belong to her, but they were all natural.
Katherine loved that she had plaited her pink hair into pigtails, and wore no make-up. And that smile just kept lighting up the room and making her loins throb.
The tension in the air was palpable. Everyone knew why they were here, and what was going to happen, but they were going through the motions of a normal evening meal.
Perhaps Katherine’s choice of outfit was adding to the tension. Her long backless black dress tied behind her hair and plunged so far down her front it nearly showed her navel. What’s more, it opened up one side of her leg almost to the hip, and she could feel Claire’s eyes coveting her lasciviously.
Claire slipped her spoon into her empty dish and dabbed her napkin to her pouting lips. With a little lick of them, she dropped the cloth to the table and decided to broach the tension.
“Let’s get it out of the way. Who wants to see my tits?” she smiled, making Katherine giggle.
“Yes,” Tom said huskily, which made Claire look at Katherine with amusement, making her giggle even more, but secretly despising him for his lack of grace.
“Well okay then,” Claire said, unlacing the front of her bustiere, “Perhaps you should bring your chairs closer for a better view.
