“Have you watched it yet?”
“No, I have not!”
“Why not? Chrissy, you’ve got to watch it!” I didn’t reply, instead, I tried to change the subject but Jane was not having that. “Chrissy, you looked fantastic! You can understand why everyone was so turned on!”
I was fully aware of that and it was one of the reasons I didn’t want to watch it. It was one thing being utterly and completely slutty, it is quite another thing to watch yourself being, well, utterly and completely slutty!
If I’m being honest, the night was a bit of a blur. It started much as I expected, Jane leading me around the room by her lead attached to my collar, my wrists clamped together behind my back, and naked other my ankle straps and my high heels. And my mask.
Everyone was wearing a mask, even the two cameramen and I had thought that would help me feel more comfortable with my nakedness, but it didn’t. Instead, I was conscious that I was the subject on show. Which, of course, I was.
For some reason, it had never occurred to me the cameras would be so close, so intimate and I was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable, a camera a few feet from my face, the other inches from my pussy, my bottom, my breasts, my, well, everything. So when a very fit young man was introduced to me, his cock bobbing in front of him, I was relieved that the camera moved away, no doubt wishing to get a wider shot of my mouth, his cock and testicles.
That was the start of a very long, very painful, and very, very fucking horny evening which, by the time I had been untied, I had been fucked several times, spanked and paddled until my bottom and nipples were red raw, and had two, yes two, absolutely utterly amazing mind-blowing orgasms, all no doubt caught in every detail in technicolour!
No, I didn’t want to see it. Everybody there saw it, even those who had found it so horny that they were fucking, sucking and licking, never seemed to take their eyes off me. And so had the six men, each of whom was tied to a post, their arms tied behind them, their cocks in a variety of restraints.
Even though I was in a bit of a state, I think what happened in the next hour will stay in my memory forever. Even though I say so myself, I was quite good! Yes, I might watch that.
“Chrissy, the shot of you walking away after the last one had cum, well, you have to see it to believe it.” I smiled. At the time I had thought it would look horny, my face and breasts covered in cum, it dripping from my chin and from my nipples, it hanging from the clamps and chain. Fuck, I was sure it would be something to behold.
“How many copies are there?”
“There are about a hundred members, plus you and me.”
“So, everyone got a copy?”
“Yes. But they are all encrypted; they can’t be copied.”
“But someone could record it whilst it is playing?”
Jane looked at me closely. “Chrissy, yes, I suppose they could. But nobody knows who you are, you had a mask on, all the time you were there.”
“But they could.”
“Chrissy, you have to trust people, sometimes.”
On my way back to my flat, I checked the envelope. Fuck! Even when compared with my new salary, I could never have dreamed of being paid so much for an evening’s work. Not that I thought of it as work. Yes, I know what some people will think of me, but there were a few simple facts. I fucking loved it and it was the only way I could orgasm. And anyway, I don’t give a shit about what people might think.
oOo
Where’s my phone? I knew that I left it charging, that’s where I always leave it when I am at work. Strange, I thought, and I went to get the laptop, the real reason I had popped up to my flat. And come to think about it, where’s the charger? I glanced around the flat but couldn’t see it. I must have taken it to work, I thought. It was when I opened the drawer where I had put the laptop, I realised I had problems. It wasn’t there. Fuck!
The laptop wasn’t mine. It was the restaurant’s and I had brought it up to the flat to finish the monthly report. As I stood thinking, it suddenly hit me.
My bedroom looked as usual, tidy, neat; some might say sparse. I opened the middle drawer and reached to the back and a pair of thick socks I kept there. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Keep calm, Chrissy, I thought to myself but I felt sick. I rushed down to my office and double-checked, definitely no phone, definitely no laptop. Of course, they weren’t there, and obviously nor was my cash, my hard-earned cash, the payment from last weekend’s party. FUCK!
It only took me a few minutes to track back through the CCTV system. As I watched her climb the stairs my heart was thumping. She opened the door and a few seconds later, she reappeared and gestured to someone, I watched, my stomach turning as he quickly climbed the stairs, and in they went. I cannot believe what I am watching. Surely not? She wouldn’t do that, would she?
Five minutes later, I realised she would. The fucking bitch! I watch, my guts turning, my head spinning, as they quickly run down the stairs, the laptop under his arm.
“Please, Chrissy, just one night, I’ve got nowhere else to go.”
It had been months since I had seen Kim. As far as I knew, she had moved in with her boyfriend, a right piece of shit as far as I was concerned but they say love is blind, and since that day I hadn’t heard a word from her. But here she was, looking tired and quite frankly, shit. I know I shouldn’t have said yes, but she did look desperate.
That had been two nights ago. I hadn’t minded, other than she was not the tidiest of people. But it was clear she had had issues with the shit head and she had told me that morning she had found somewhere and would be gone by the time I finished work. And now I knew why she would be gone! The fucking lying bitch!
My first instinct was to phone the police. But I didn’t. Instead, I popped back up to the flat and had a better look around. Some of her stuff was still there. Oh, she thinks I won’t be back until late, as I had been the last two nights. My normal working day would be I would leave the flat by 10 am, back around 10 pm, or even later, and it was only that I had left the laptop there, that I had popped back. She’s coming back, isn’t she?
I spent the next hour watching the monitor, my eyes fixed on the camera covering the rear stairs, the stairs to my flat. A few colleagues popped in to see me, and I made an excuse, I was running through old tapes to clear them, and I was about to pop to the loo when I saw her. This time I felt only one thing, anger and that multiplied when her shithead boyfriend followed her up to the flat, my flat, and shut the door.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Now, looking back, I know I should have called the police, or at least got Andy and Pete from the restaurant to come with me. But I was so, so fucking angry, I wasn’t thinking, and the longer I waited, at the bottom of the steps, the angrier I became.
I had thought they would be in and out but obviously not, so I went up and, as quietly as possible, I let myself. If I had thought things could not get worse, I was wrong. They were both kneeling, their heads over the low coffee table, and I watched as first he snorted and then she copied him, both throwing their heads back. And that was when she saw me.
I supposed it was the adrenalin, that and the fact I am used to pain. Initially, it was all apologises, but when he started to laugh, I lost it. I think I must have taken him by surprise as he reeled away, hiding his head from my blows and it was Kim, who grabbed my hair and pulled me off him, her nails digging into my scalp, but when I drove her into the wall she let go. And he hit me. Fuck!
It didn’t really hurt, it was much more the shock, but it knocked me off my feet and, as I got up, he grabbed me under my chin and shoved me back hard against the kitchen door, his face inches from mine, snarling like a rabid dog, a stream of abuse spewing from his disgusting mouth.
I remember a wave of calm came over me and even though he shoved me again, and punched me again, I relaxed and he, too, relaxed his grip, just enough.
I think they call it an uppercut. I had seen it on the telly, but it wasn’t pre-planned. The crack was loud, his teeth smashing together and I felt his saliva splash onto my face, just before he released his grip, spinning away, his hands over his face, muffled screams coming from him.
I watched for a second or two, as he dropped to his knees, Kim rushing to him, before I went into the kitchen.
Looking back, I am so pleased there wasn’t a knife on the small worktop. Instead, I picked up the roll of cling film. That will do. As I walked out, he was coming straight for me, blood pouring from his mouth, his fists clenched and, as he reached for me, I hit him. I can remember thinking fuck, that was better than I had hoped.
“Where’s my fucking money, you fucking shithead?” I screamed, partly so he could hear me above his sobbing.
“Leave him, leave him!” Kim was crying but I was in no mood for sympathy.
“Where is my fucking money!?” and, as I raised the roll again, will the full intention of using it to break his fucking scull, she said something.
“What did you say?”
“We spent it.”
“What do you mean, you spent it? There was over two grand!”
“We spent it.”
“How can you spend two grand in an hour? What have you bought, except for a couple of grams of fucking coke?”
She looked up at me, my arm still raised. “We owed it.”
“Owed it? To who?”
“Our dealer.”
They had sold my phone. They had tried to sell the laptop but were told it wasn’t worth the agro’, so they had thrown it in the bins at the back of the restaurant. I even made them turn out of their pockets.
He was still sobbing in pain, holding his forearm which had taken most of the blow.
“You fucking bitch, you’ve broken my fucking arm!” They staggered away, and I heard her shout back at me, telling me I was a bitch and that they will get me. Yeah right, I thought, next time you would won’t walk away, I fucking promise you that.
Back in my flat my anger subsided, to be replaced by reality. Oh fuck, I’m in trouble. I cleared away the remnants of their coke, bagging it and, using plenty of kitchen cleaner, I scrubbed the table and floor, making sure everything was spotless.
It was when I picked up the laptop the dark clouds began to surround me. Fucking hell, what am I going to do?! I knew I should not have taken the laptop up to my flat, and I knew I shouldn’t have let her stay. Fuck!
I had worked so hard for this job. I was being paid more than I could have ever dreamed of, I had a lovely flat, and I was happy, happier than I could ever remember. And I’d blown it. You stupid girl, Chrissy and, as I sat there, I realised there were tears running down my cheeks.
It had been ten years since I had last cried. It was my birthday and I had invited some school friends to my party. I’d never had a party before and my foster parents had got everything ready. And no one turned up. I cried then. And I cried now.
“Carlos? Hi, it’s Chrissy.”
“Hi, Chrissy. And how are you today?”
“Carlos. I need to speak to you, face-to-face. Can you pop over?”
“What is it, Chrissy?”
“I can’t explain over the phone. I could come over to you if you’d prefer. It’s important.”
As I waited, my mind conjured up all sorts of outcomes of the conversation about to be had. And, if I thought things could not get worse, I was wrong, because someone knocked on the open door.
“Chrissy, there are…” It was Angela, “What had happened to you? Your face! Are you OK?”
“I slipped on the steps, I’m fine. What is it?” She did not look convinced, but I smiled. “What is it?”
“Oh, sorry, are you sure you’re OK?” I nodded and smiled again. Bless her, I thought. “There are two policemen here to see you.” FUCK!
“Carlos, I am so sorry.” He didn’t seem angry. I had told him everything, my only fib being that my money had been from several nights helping Jane over the past few months. And he had listened, looking at the desk, not saying a word.
The two policemen had listened again, just seeming to check this version tallied with the original. The carrier bag was on the table, together with the laptop.
“And Mrs Cousins will be able to confirm this?”
“Yes, she will,” said Carlos, “Chrissy has been helping her with events.” He picked up his phone and after a few flicks, he gave them her number. “Have you any further questions?”
They looked at each other before the older one said no.
“Chrissy, would you please leave us for a few minutes? If that is OK with you?” Carlos said, looking at the policemen.
They nodded and I left, my head still hanging and shut the door behind me.
“Chrissy, are you OK?” It was Angela, concern written across her face. “Oh, Chrissy, what’s happened?” I took a deep breath and did my best to smile. “Come here,” she said, and I found myself being hugged.
It must have been ten minutes, perhaps more, before finally the office door opened, Carlos thanking them and shaking their hands. I was sitting alone, on a single chair, like a schoolgirl waiting to see the head teacher.
The older of the two policemen stopped in front of me, the carrier bag in his hand. “Ms Turner, can you arrange to come to the station so we can take a formal statement?”
“When?” I said, looking up from my lap.
“In the next few days. Just call the desk and they will arrange a time.”
“Of course.”
I felt sick. They said their goodbyes, and just before Carlos escorted them out, the older one, turned to me.
“A roll of cling film?” he said, a slight smile across his face. I just nodded. “Love it!”
I wonder where I could sleep tonight? Winter had come early and I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping in the park. Perhaps Jane’s? No, she was not going to be happy, the police turning up, asking questions about her parties. It had never occurred to me they would think I was a dealer. It was the cash and that anonymous phone call. Fucking bitch. That’s the last time I did a friend a favour, not that I had any friends, that is.
Finally, he looked up. “Chrissy, obviously I’m disappointed,” he said. Here goes, I thought.
“Carlos, if you want to let me go, I understand. And, of course, I’ll pay for the laptop, I’ve got some savings and…” But I stopped, as I thought I might cry again.
“How is Angela getting on?”
“She’s wonderful, she is really getting to grip with… everything…” But my voice tailed off, as it occurred to me what he was suggesting.
“I’d like you to get her up to speed, as soon as possible.” I nodded, concerned that if I spoke, my voice would betray my breaking heart. “So tomorrow, I want you to come over to Monksfield with me. I need you to sort out the restaurant like you have here.”
It took a few seconds to sink in. “You don’t want me to resign?”
He looked shocked. “Chrissy, no I do not! Besides the fact that the place would fall apart without you, I think the staff would leave en masse!”
I didn’t know what to say. “Chrissy, this was not your fault,” he said, and standing, he walked around the desk and pulled up a chair next to mine. “I think you should get your head checked,” he said, taking a closer look at my jaw, my split lip, softly touching my chin.
“Too bloody right, I need my head looked at!” I said, and he smiled, that lovely warm smile of his and I giggled, just a little.
Jane
Bless her! Carlos had told me what had happened and that the police would be in contact. That was not a problem, I could and would happily prove what Chrissy had said. According to Carlos, the police believed her, as they should.
What they had found difficult to believe was that a twenty-year-old girl was the manager of the best and busiest restaurants in the county!
Carlos had enjoyed telling them about her. Completely reliable he had said, bright, intelligent and honest. The Inspector had added, “And handy with a roll of clingfilm!”
It had taken a couple of months or so for Chrissy to get her mojo back. She had sorted the other restaurant and was now managing both of them, with the assistance of Angela and a lovely young lady called Sarah, whom she had taken under her most capable and beautiful wing. But this had caused me some issues too.
It was not the parties. True, she was in great demand, but I was not going to push her into this, in fact, there was a large part of me that was reluctant to share her ever again.
I had managed to book a table at her restaurant for New Year’s Eve. And that wasn’t easy, having been initially told that it was fully booked! Fortunately, the young man recognised my voice and a few minutes later, Angela intervened.
“Jane, we can fit you and your guests in but it will have to be 8.30 pm for 9.00 pm. But that way, you will be there for midnight.”
“Thank you so much, Angela. Wow, you are busy.”
“Busy! We could fill the place three times over!” she had added.
She was not joking! I had never seen the place like it and my immediate thought was how on earth they would cope with everyone. But they did! I could not believe it; it was quite superb! And then I saw her.
She was talking to a table of guests, all of them smiling and laughing and then onto the next, where again, all the guests greeted her, several getting to their feet and kissing her, cheek to cheek. And the next, and the next, and I found myself transfixed by her, until finally she arrived at our table and I realised my heart was pounding in my chest.
I had to wait my turn, my guests having jumped to their feet but it gave me a few minutes to regain my composure and enjoy seeing her close-up. Oh my, she is beautiful, I thought to myself. She had had her hair cut, just a tidy I would guess and, as usual, had very little make-up on. Her beautiful but simple black sequined dress, no doubt a find in a local charity store, showed off her soft delicate shoulders, her skin pale and smooth, and I was still staring at her when she turned to me.
“Hello, Jane,” she said softly. Stepping close to me, she kissed me on my cheek, and my heart fluttered. Oh God! It hit me like a thunderbolt. There was no doubt about it: I was in love.
It was a lovely night, all my guests having the most wonderful time and at the stroke of midnight, the whole restaurant welcomed in the New Year. But my eyes were elsewhere. She was at the back of the restaurant, with all the staff around her; just them, and I saw her handing out small presents to each of them, and obviously thanking them individually.
As soon as “Auld Lang Syne” came towards its end, they quickly dispersed back to their stations, so as soon as the first party-goer arrived, they were ready and waiting.
oOo
“And how is your sex life, may I ask?”
“Non-fucking-existent!” she replied, “When would I have time for sex?” she added, sipping her Prosecco. True, I thought. Both restaurants had had their best-ever Christmas and New Year periods and since then, she had rearranged the menus to ensure the normally quiet start of the year was anything but quiet!
“How are your parties going?”
“Do you miss them?” I said, hopeful she would say she did.
“I miss the orgasms!” She laughed, a little. “Yes, I have. Who have you got working?”
There were a few girls, and boys, who were lovely. But I did have an issue. Everybody wanted to see Chrissy and, if I was being honest with myself, so did I.
“Would you like to do a party?” I asked, as casually as I could. She took another sip of her drink, obviously thinking to herself.
“A big one?”
“Well, I would not have any trouble getting the numbers. You are somewhat in demand.”
“A really, fuck off sexy one?”
I laughed. “Chrissy, anything you do will be really fuck off sexy!”
She was thinking again.
“When?”
“Is that a yes, Chrissy?”
“No, it’s a maybe.”
The night had arrived and I was both equally excited and concerned. The excitement was easy to understand. I was about to see the sexiest, the horniest, the most beautiful young lady doing what only she could do.
We had chosen her clothes and she had dressed up for me, as she would tonight for the audience, and it had taken every single ounce of strength I had in my body, not to leap on her, and as soon as she had left, I had rushed upstairs and masturbated until I had orgasmed.
Just the thought of what lay ahead had, over the past few weeks leading up to now, grown so strong in my head, I had sent for the boys several times, my husband taking the opportunity to sit and watch, and even he managing to enjoy himself.
And my concern? I had arranged a couple of parties for this group. They were very important customers of my husband and those invited were hand-picked, all important in their own right, and very wealthy. And they wanted Chrissy. But that was not all.
They had been very specific with regards their expectations and it had taken me some time to understand what they wanted; I even had to look up examples online. Fucking hell! When I had explained it to Chrissy, she looked at me, her eyebrows raised, eyes wide.
“Chrissy, are you comfortable with this?”
“I don’t know. It sounds very kinky. Where did they get this idea from?”
I showed her the clip I had found. We were sat watching it when my husband walked in.
“Ah, Yuko’s party! He is so looking forward to it,” he said, slowly making his way out onto the terrace.
“Chrissy?” I said, “Are you game?”
“The cameras will be recording?
“Yes. The videos are tagged and fully encrypted.”
“But no masks?”
“That’s right. The people there are very important individuals. The videos will not be leaked. And that is why they are going to pay you so much.”
“You will be there, won’t you?”
“Of course. I promise.”
“OK. This will be my final one, yes?”
“Yes, if that is what you want.”
The Party
The lectern is centre front of the stage, the main camera is directly in front, and another small camera is at ground level, again directly in front of the lectern. A third camera, this one hand-held, awaits to the side.
The audience is seated in small groups, each with a table and, as the lights dim. the murmur of expectation rises.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, time for our main reading.” There are a few cheers and even some applause, but as the main lights illuminate the stage, everyone becomes silent.
She enters from stage right and, as she reaches the lectern, the screen behind comes to life, it showing what the cameras are seeing.
She is dressed simply, in a black jacket and skirt, a white blouse, her legs in black tights, or stockings, and black heels.
“Good evening. This is the story of Emma and Eddie,” and as she begins, the main camera slowly zooms in, until just her head and shoulders are in shot. She is young, her voice calm and clear, her hair held in a simple bun, her make-up simple, and is wearing glasses, which frame her beautiful blue eyes.
All eyes are on her, taking in this young lady, the hand-held camera scanning up and down her body, her figure slender, her legs long and firm, her back straight and strong, as is her neck, her pale skin.
“I saw Emma and Simon sneaking off down the garden, hand in hand…”
The audience stirs as they listen, and a woman, dressed in a beautiful black dress walks onto the stage, carrying something. Without saying a word, she crouches behind the speaker and we watch as she attaches a cuff to each ankle. The girl pays no attention and continues to tell the story, but the floor camera zooms in as the lady returns, carrying a spreader bar, which she attaches to the cuffs, the girl adjusting her stance, her skirt tight against her thighs.
“Her shaved pussy lips were open and soaking wet and the smell of cum mixed with her juices was unmistakable…”
The audience stirs as the lady returns, and crouches behind the girl, her hands running up the beautiful, out-stretched legs in front of her, over her hips and, standing, her hands continue their way up the front of the girl. The camera zooms onto the front of the jacket, as the hands undo the two buttons, opening the front, and then begins to remove the jacket, first one arm then the other, which she throws behind her and leaves the stage.
The girl pays no attention but continues with her story. “Gentle my love,” she whispered, “I’ve already cum twice. I have never been so turned on, ever, and quite clearly so was Emma, as we fucked for hours…”
The lady reappears. The main camera is focused on the girl’s face and shoulders, the floor camera at the girl’s legs, the other has moved so it is looking from slightly behind, and there is a stir as the lady unzips the skirt, and then pulls it up to the waist. The floor camera zooms in. The girl is wearing tights, the faint outline of panties underneath.
The lady bends and picks up a pair of scissors and the audience watches as she cuts at the skirt and the tugs hard, and she rips the skirt again and again, until it is free and she throws the rags behind her.
The girl has finished the first story and continues with the next part. As she reads the cameras focus closely on her body, her breathing just slightly heavier, the audience now imagining what awaits them.
The lady steps forward again, this time reaching around the girl and starts to unbutton the blouse. A button seems problematical and she rips it, and again, and with the blouse now fully open, the camera zooms into the girl’s bra, her lovely pale breasts, cupped deliciously.
The audience murmurs, just slightly, as the girl continues the story, her voice unwavering, and even as the lady reaches up her back, and wrestles with the clasp, her voice remains steady. As her breasts are released the audience stirs again, the camera capturing the moment in detail. Her breasts are firm, her nipples pink and full, almost pulling her breasts up and outwards and, for the first time, as the lady squeezes them, she catches her breath.
“There they go, with my gorgeous wife. And soon they will be sticking their cocks in her mouth and fucking her senseless…”
The lady kneels and runs her hand up the girl’s legs and then gripping the crotch of her tights, she pulls, ripping at the nylon until she has full access to the girl’s panties and after running her fingers over them, she grips one side and rips, and pulls the torn garment down the remaining leg.
The camera zooms in and the audience can be heard whispering, the girl’s gorgeous, totally smooth pussy beamed across the screen behind her.
As the paddle smacks against her bottom, she yelps, although this is muffled by the cock in her mouth. She pulls her head away, so she can continue with the story, the cock now being wanked just inches from her face.
“It was fucking wonderful, a cock in my mouth and another deep in my pussy…” the cock next to her erupts, cum flying across her face, hitting her glasses, adding to that dribbling down her cheek and hanging from her hair.
The paddle strikes again, and again, but she continues to read, just, and then she jolts as the shock goes through her. The audience gasps again, perhaps imagining the pain, imagining the nerves reacting to the spark of electricity through her pussy, and then another smack, as the paddle slaps against her red bottom.
She lets out a long but soft groan, lifting her body, her head stretching high, her breasts rising with her body, her nipples hard and red, the torn sleeves of her blouse hanging from her wrists.
The mix of smacks and sparks continues, the girl panting, shaking, quivering but incredibly continuing her story.
A camera scans the audience and focuses on a couple, her legs wide open, her fingers deep in her pussy, her partner has his erect cock in his hand and is masturbating, slowly running his fingers around his glands. He takes this as his queue and he stands and walks slowly towards the lectern and carefully climbs the three steps to the side of the girl before he allows his trousers to drop to his ankles.
The girl briefly glances right, at the cock next to her face, but then returns to her story, her face red, perspiration mingling with the spunk and, as another cock appears to her left, she glances, and this time, as the cock is pressed against her face, she turns and allows it to slip into her mouth, just for a few moments, and then returns to her story. Another slap, another jolt, then another, and another, and more cum hits her face, hair, and nose.
Chrissy
The sun was shining, spring was in the air and, as I walked through the park, I could not help from smiling. You are doing well, Chrissy, I thought to myself and then, almost immediately, the warnings flashed through my head. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Chrissy, things can change quickly, but I decided I deserved a little time to be happy, well, as happy as I could remember.
It was over a week since the party, or whatever you would call it. It had taken me several days to get back to normal, my bottom, my pussy, my nipples, well, all of my body really, continuing to get pulses of sexual energy through it and as I skipped along, I could still feel the jolts of electricity, my nerves still buzzing.
When I got to Jane’s she was waiting and we were soon sat on her terrace in the afternoon sun, sipping Prosecco and chatting away. She had popped into the restaurant a couple of times in the week, just checking I was well, so she said. And that was nice, I mean someone actually concerned for me.
“Do you want to see the video?” No, I didn’t. “Chrissy, you looked wonderful! They have edited it so well, it’s just incredible.” I didn’t reply and she understood.
“Were they pleased?”
“She was taking a sip when I said it, and she almost choked. “Pleased!? Chrissy, they could not be happier. Oh, Chrissy, you must see it.”
“No, thank you.”
“Chrissy, you don’t realise how beautiful you are, do you?” I didn’t immediately reply; I knew I was not beautiful but it is nice to be told you are. “Chrissy, can I ask you something, personal?”
“It depends,” I said, “not that I have secrets, well, not real secrets.”
“Do you have any family?” I thought about changing the subject, but she was looking at me, almost willing me to tell her.
“No.” She raised her eyebrows, just a little.
“No one?”
“None.”
“Friends?”
“No.” I was going to add that I had thought I had one, once, but that had been proved wrong, the fucking bitch: but I didn’t. I took a sip and looked at her. She was just looking at me, a curious expression on her face. She reached under the table and after a little searching, she put a small rectangular box onto the table.
“This is for you,” and she pushed the box towards me.
“What is it?” She laughed, softly and smiled.
“Open it.” I slowly opened the lid. Oh my! I glanced up at her and she smiled a most beautiful smile. “Do you like it?” I looked at it again. Oh my, oh my. “Put it on,” she said, and I carefully picked it up. “Here, let me help you,” and she stood and very carefully put it around my neck, softly stroking my hair off my neck. “There.” Oh my!
She took my hand and we walked into the garden room and looked in the mirror. She was standing behind me, looking over my shoulder into the mirror, at me.
“It’s beautiful, Jane, it’s beautiful!” It was a simple fine necklace, with a small pearl drop, all in a white metal, of some sort.
“And it’s second-hand,” she said laughing. It was a joke we shared; nothing I have is new!
“Jane, I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” I could feel her breath on my neck and I turned, our faces almost touching.
“Chrissy, please don’t cry,” she said, and she gently wiped my cheeks.
I just had to. Nothing could stop me. Slowly I leaned towards her, my lips closer and closer to hers. She did not move, her eyes looking directly into mine. And I kissed her, a simple kiss on her top lip, and then her bottom lip, and then both.
Jane
Do you sometimes wonder that if something that you have longed for, dreamed of, even fantasised about, does finally happen, it will not live up to your expectations? Well, I have. And I was wrong.
It had to be her. For months I had longed to kiss her, to take her to my bed, to make love to her, but she had to be the one to initiate that first kiss. And as soon as her lips began to kiss me, every single sensual feeling in my body erupted and now, a couple of hours later, she was lying in my arms, her wonderful body glowing in perspiration, her body softly quivering.
We had undressed each other in front of the mirror, which had added to the thrill, if that was possible and I had my first orgasm on the sofa, her tongue sending my pussy into spasms of utter joy.
A quick run up the stairs to my bedroom had made us both giggle and there I set to work on her, using everything in my power, in my imagination, and in my toy drawer, until finally, with my strap-on deep inside her, my vibrator pressed hard against her clitoris she had pulled me to her.
“Kiss me, kiss me,” she had said, before pulling my face onto hers, and we kissed deeply, our tongues, exploring each other. Fucking hell!
I had witnessed her orgasm several times and watched it in on the videos, but being with her, in her arms, in her grasp, in her body, was something else. Fucking hell, I honestly thought she was going to crush me, but as the first spasm receded, she briefly released her grip, until that is the next series of spasms ripped through her, and I found myself holding on to her, squeezing her breasts, her bottom, in fact, everything and anything I could grab.
And that had been just the start. Fucking hell. Oh, to be young again, I had thought, as she had made me orgasm again, and when we had played with the electric probe, we had to remove her necklace, just in case.
When she left, we kissed passionately, and she thanked me again for her necklace. But there was something on her mind. I didn’t want to ask. When she said, she had to go, I was surprised. Was she regretting this, regretting me? But she had waved to me as she left, and I had watched her march off, down the road. Oh no. Had I made a terrible mistake? I wanted to cry.
Chrissy
It was getting dark and I was halfway home, only another ten minutes or so, at my pace. That had been an incredible couple of hours and I should have been happy.
When she gave me the necklace, I had been taken aback. I never wear jewellery for a very good reason; I have never owned any. Ever! I had only ever had two, no three, presents given to me. One was a little doll, the next a set of crayons and the last one, a second-hand pair of roller skates, which some bastard stole from my shelf at school.
And I had just had my first orgasm with another person. She had been wonderful and my whole body was feeling incredible. I felt whole, I felt wonderful, I felt complete. But there was something else and I stopped dead, so dead that the couple who I had just overtaken, nearly walked into me.
It was something she had said, more than once and it kept sweeping through my head. What did she mean? Did she mean anything by it? Or was I just making a mountain out of mole-hill? I had to know.
By the time I got back to her house, I was running and I pressed the buzzer, holding it until I heard someone.
“Jane? Jane! It’s me!” The gate opened and I ran to the door, it opened as I got there.
“Chrissy, are you OK, what is it?” She was wearing the dressing gown she had had on when I left.
“Jane, do you mean it?” I was panting.
“Mean what?” she said but she took my hand and led me through to the garden room, the same room, the same sofa.
“Chrissy, catch your breath,” she said, holding my hand, “Mean what?”
“What you said. Or was it just a phrase, a thing people just say?”
“Like what?”
“You know, instead of saying “had sex”, or “we fucked”?”
“What did I say?” I hesitated. Should I say it, no, perhaps I shouldn’t, I was just being silly. “Chrissy, tell me, what did I say?” I took a deep breath. Here goes.
“Jane, you said it, when we lying there, on the sofa, and you said it again, in your bed, when I was in your arms.” I took another deep breath. “You said that we had made love. Love!”
She was looking at me, and she placed her hand on my cheek and softly brushed my hair away.
“Yes, Chrissy. I did. And I mean it. I love you.” I felt tears run from my eyes and down my cheeks, and she softly wiped them, all the time looking straight into my eyes. “Chrissy, don’t cry. I love you. I think I have loved you since the moment I met you. I love you more than I can ever describe.”
No one had ever told me that they loved me. Ever. And, as I kissed her, and she kissed me, at last, I knew what it felt like to be loved.
oOo
I was excited, although only Jane and Carlos knew why, and I had sworn them to secrecy! I managed to get a lift back from Monksfield with Harry, our delivery man, who was a lovely elderly gentleman. It had been a good morning, Sarah was coming on a treat and the restaurant there was running smoothly, numbers were up and I was pleased. And so was Carlos, and that was important.
Back in my office, I had just finished my weekly catch-up with Angela. We had changed a major supplier and the new one was proving that we were right in doing so. And now we were busier than ever and had made our plans for the next six months, which Carlos had signed off. Yes, it was going well, but I had contingency plans to make.
“I think that’s everything?”
“Yes, I can’t think of anything. So, what is this important meeting you have this afternoon?” She was smiling a curious look on her face. “It’s nothing exciting,” I said, then added, “I’ll tell you tomorrow, I promise,” and with that she jumped up and smiling left the office, shutting the door after her. I was about to shout “Leave the door,” but she was off, back to the restaurant which would be closing soon.
I had an hour and a half until my appointment, so I did some more work, finishing off a couple of things, there was a knock on the door, and Angela poked her head in.
“Chrissy, sorry to bother you, but I think I need you to see this.”
I got up and followed out of the door. “Love your dress!” she said, looking over her shoulder, “Don’t tell me, Vinted!” and we laughed but as I followed her around the corner, I stopped, dead.
“SURPRISE!!”
There, in front of me, were twenty, perhaps more, people, a Happy Birthday banner and two balloons, a two and a one. Fuck! It’s my birthday.
Oh my! I was handed a glass of fizz and everyone was talking at once, wishing me a very happy birthday. It was lovely and I went along the line, from left to right.
Carlos and his lovely wife, Danielle, were first. I had met her several times in the last year. She was everything I thought she would be. Carlos was simply the loveliest man I had ever met and I had guessed his wife must have been equally as lovely. And I was right. And he had named the restaurant after her.
“Happy Birthday, Chrissy,” and she kissed me.
“Chrissy, this is a little present for you. It’s from everyone here at Danni’s” Oh my. It was another rectangular box, but heavier and, as I opened it, my heart fluttered. Fuck me! Wow. It was a watch, a simple platinum watch, absolutely beautifully made, the face small and perfect.
Danielle helped me put it on, and kissed me again, as did Carlos, his wonderful warm smile even brighter than normal.
I thanked everyone, one by one, and everyone seemed so happy for me, the waiting staff, the chefs, and of course Angela who hugged me tightly. And even our Accountant was there, who was giving me my book-keeping lessons, and three of our regular guests. And finally, there was Jane. Oh, my Jane.
“Happy Birthday, my darling,” and, as she kissed my cheek, she added, “I’ll let you have your present later,” and we kissed properly, but briefly. Whilst it was not exactly public knowledge, it was an open secret, we were lovers.
The cake arrived, the twenty-one candles sparkling away, and the song rang out. Don’t cry Chrissy, I said, as the chant of “Speech, speech,” followed.
I didn’t know what to say. Perhaps I should have told them that this was the first watch I had ever had, or that this was the first birthday party I had ever had. But I didn’t. I had the birthday card which had been handed to me and I opened it.
“Dear Chrissy, happy birthday, love…’ and “Happy 21st, love…” and “lots of love…” and “love you…”. Everyone had sent their love. To me!
I felt a tear roll down my cheek and then another, but when I looked up, everyone was smiling, and suddenly they all came towards me, and I found myself in the middle of all these lovely people.
oOo
“Thank you, everybody, see you later,” and I was off to my appointment. Getting away had proved a little difficult but Carlos had got me out of there, in good time. There was no way I was going to be late for this.
As I crossed the park, I was trotting and by the time I reached the turning, I was nearly at full tilt. I slowed as I started down the terrace and then I saw her. She had been waiting in the doorway but stepped out onto the pavement when she saw me.
“Hi, Philly,” I said, and she smiled.
“Hi, Chrissy. I thought you’d be on time.” She lifted her arm and dangling from her thumb and forefinger were a set of keys. “And these are yours!”
As I took them from her, my heart was thumping. “Thank you,” I said and I turned to look at the door. My door.
She followed me in, through the small hallway, the stairs dead ahead, and turned into the main room, the bay window looking out to the terrace of houses opposite, the rear window out to the small courtyard and garden. A small step took me down into the small kitchen, and I opened the back door and glanced down the path. I will need to get a lawnmower, I thought to myself, I’m sure I saw one in the charity shop in town.
Back inside, Philly showed me where the boiler was, the fuse box and the stop-cock, although I already knew.
A quick sortie upstairs and it was exactly as I remembered, except a brand-new double bed, with new sheets, pillows and quilt, still in their wrappers, a present from Jane. The bed head and bottom were resting against the wall. They were the old-fashioned metal type, as Jane had said, she would need something to take the cuffs we used regularly during our love-making.
“Thank you, Philly.” She smiled and waved goodbye and I watched her walk down the road, down Blackberry Terrace.
As I closed the door, my door, the emotions caught up with me. Standing there, in that empty room, they started to spill out. You’ve done it, Chrissy. Yes, you have a long way to go yet, but you’ve done it!
For the first time in my life, I was home, Yes, home: my home, the first place in my short, but eventful life, I could call home. And I cried.
