Her niece, Phoebe, had been promised that she could have three friends for the afternoon, followed by a sleepover until Sunday morning. She could stay with Mrs Harper next door until Carrie could get there, but the friends were arriving at three o’clock. Carrie had agreed, and then wondered how you kept four eight-year old girls happy. Liz had said there was plenty of food ready and all she had to do was ‘entertain them’ and that they were probably quite capable of looking after themselves in that respect.
Carrie had a brainwave. She would call in at Waterstones Books and ask what sort of thing eight-year old girls liked, and get some short stories to read to them.
As she walked into the shop she noticed the big sign with an arrow, ‘Storytelling in Children’s Books’. She followed, and entered an area where about twenty young children were sat on cushions before a large chair on which sat the Storyteller. He had clearly come to the end of whatever it was he was telling them because there was a sudden shriek of delight from the whole audience, followed by applause. Carrie joined because although she had no idea what the story had been, she could see wonder and delight on so many faces.
Cat Taylor smiled in appreciation of the applause, then turned to see who it was clapping from behind. He had never met Carrie Nicholson, but he knew he just had to get to talk to this woman. The chemistry was working both ways. Carrie held his gaze, longing for it to continue. The moment was broken when one of the Waterstones’ staff began to make a small speech.
Feeling quite self-conscious, Carrie hovered at the edge of the gathering. She had picked up his book, ‘The Witches of Findhorn’ and waited for an opportunity to get close, feeling butterflies she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager. Cameron Taylor was trying to be nice to everyone who wanted to chat, but he was anxious to get to the girl who had held his gaze, and put such a spell on him.
“Hello,” he said with a Cheshire Cat smile as he finally made it across the room, “would you like me to sign that for you?”
“Oh, please,” said Carrie, “it’s for my niece Phoebe – I have to entertain her and her friends this afternoon and I thought I would read to them.”
“Phoebe!” exclaimed the author. “Ha! Princess of the West Woodland.”
He saw a puzzled look on the girl’s face and quickly opened the book and found an illustrated page. Carrie gasped as she read the caption, ‘Princess Phoebe commanded Dragon Slayer to take up her lance.’
“Wow,” she said. “I’m Carrie Nicholson.”
“I’m Cameron Taylor, I tell stories.” He thought to himself for a moment. “I’m a storyteller – and I don’t know what to say next.”
Carrie was similarly afflicted, until she had an inspiration.
“Is there any chance you could come and read to Princess Phoebe this afternoon?”
Cameron grinned, and they both realised that the awkward moments were past. He had thought of a quiet corner in the bar of the Coach and Horses with a book and a pint. The opportunity to keep company with Carrie was just heaven sent.
“Sounds fun,” he laughed, “what time and where?”
“Oh! Brilliant, thank you, thank you. This is amazing. Look, it’s after one o’cock now. Why don’t I buy you a coffee and a sandwich and then take you? It’s over in Heslington.”
They left Waterstones rather than use the coffee bar where he might have been pursued, and went over the road to Mays. They chatted very easily, and all sense of shyness and reservation was gone as they learned more about each other. They were both thirty. Cameron wrote and told stories as well as doing workshops for amateur literary groups and primary schools. Carrie worked part-time in IT support for RPA International and part-time on freelance web design. Neither of them were in a relationship, but each sensed that was about to change.
Carrie drove them away from York city centre out towards the university and Heslington, and she was reveling in having this wonderful man in her car with her.
They arrived, and Carrie pulled well over to the side on the drive to give room for Liz when she got back with Eric later. She went to Mrs. Harper next door to collect Phoebe.
“Thank you so much Mrs. Harper. I am sorry, I meant to get here sooner but I have managed to get someone a bit special to help me entertain the girls.”
“Oh?” replied Mrs. Harper. “Who’s he then?” making little attempt to keep suspicion out of her tone. At which point Cameron walked up and charmed the scowl off her with a simple open smile and handshake. He recognised, and approved of, the reticence the neighbour was showing.
“I do school workshops for the local authority, fully DBS checked etcetera and only eat small children at Christmas.”
“Look, Mrs. Harper, Cameron has signed his book for Phoebe.” The good lady was completely reconciled and doubly assured when invited to join them – an invite she accepted gladly, not out of suspicion but by being infected by the young man’s enthusiasm and passion for his craft.
Almost on the dot of three, the friends arrived, Daisy, Tamsin and Ally amid a lot of excited squeals. The Mums had been apprised of the situation regarding Liz not being there, and were reassured by the presence of Mrs. Harper. When they learned the identity of the unexpected man they wanted to stay. Cameron was gentle and firm. That was a no-no, he explained. It would make it an adult event at which the children were spectators rather than the focus of attention.
“Girls,” called Carrie – thinking to bring some order.
They didn’t hear her and Cameron touched her arm and beckoned her, and Mrs. Harper and the three grown-ups withdrew to the kitchen.
“They have to have a bit of giddy time,” he said. “We’ll know even before they do when they need us.”
Carrie knew she was in love. Mrs. Harper was enchanted – in fact she was enthralled. They sat drinking coffee for twenty-five minutes until Cameron stood suddenly and announced, “It’s time.”
A moment later Carrie and Mrs. Harper heard the first note of discord among the girls, followed by a summons from Cameron calling them to gather.
“How did he know?” mouthed Carrie at Mrs Harper.
“He’s a Storyteller,” she whispered back.
The magic began, and the girls were not only enthralled, but lived the stories. Princess Phoebe listened to the voice of wisdom (Mrs. Harper on cue from Cameron), Daisy was Dragon Slayer, Tamsin was Guardian and Ally was Messenger. The girls lived their parts and Carrie was a bit jealous and felt a bit left out until the climax – she had bought the book, but not read it. Then the Storyteller came towards her with his now devoted acolytes in tow.
“Queen of all Hearts,” he intoned, “the Realm of Findhorn is now safe and the dragon is slain. I surrender my heart to you with the kiss of offering.” With that he prostrated himself at her feet and kissed her toes.
The girls did not notice that he also gave a little lick, a suck, and a soft blow. Carrie did – and so did Mrs. Harper, who shocked Carrie to her core, whispering in her ear, “Get him into your bed girl, get him into your bed.”
But Cameron was now lying comatose and the girls were alarmed. Even Carrie was confused but then his eyes opened. The girls held their breath.
“Pizza!” said the Lord of Time.
The uncontrolled shrieks of hilarity and fun that followed were what greeted Liz, and the bruised and aching Eric, as they came through the front door. Liz was relieved that her daughter’s day had not been spoiled, but she was also surprised. She was then a bit disconcerted when Phoebe appeared. Rather than leaping with joy on Mummy and Daddy she intoned, “Dragon Slayer, more beasts are here – slay them!” and then ran off.
The ‘party’ was ending. The ‘grownups’ had arrived to claim all the attention. Carrie ran to see how Eric was and resisted the urge to give him a huge hug – his stiff body language told her that it would not be a good idea. She was relieved to see his broad, and rather embarrassed, grin.
Mrs. Harper, wearing a concerned smile, hugged Liz and said, “I’ll make everyone a cup of tea – you all look as if you need one.”
Phoebe bounced back, laughing. “Mummy, Daddy – come and meet the Lord of Time,” she said grabbing both parents by their hands. She pulled them into the lounge where they saw, for the first time, the strange man who had clearly been behind the escapades they had arrived in the middle of. He stood and walked over to them with a beaming smile.
“I’m Cameron Taylor – you must be Lizzie and Eric? How’s the bones, chum?”
Eric was a little nonplussed but Liz was agog. “Cat Taylor, the writer?”
“The storyteller,” interjected Carrie, “I kidnapped him in Waterstones, but they’ve paid the ransom and I have to take him back. Does Tiffany’s train get in at six-thirty?” she asked Cameron.
“Six-thirty-five,” responded Cameron, understanding that something was going on and realising that if they were not careful they were all about to be ‘organised’ by Liz. He turned to the room.
“Guardians of Findhorn,” he called. “The forest is safe and I leave you now. Be vigilant – summon me if you need – but I have a quest to pursue. I bid you farewell, fearless maids.”
The world knows full well the pleading noises children make for something to carry on, and the four girls gathered to hug him and Auntie Carrie before the couple made good their escape. At the door, Mrs. Harper caught hold of Carrie’s arm. She leaned in and whispered, “Remember what I said girl, remember what I said.”
Once in the car and round the first bend, Cameron went into a Bogart like character. “I think we shook em off, Queenie, and we’re clear. Watch out for the Feds but head for the state line.”
“Naaah, too soon,” slurred Carrie, “better hole up awhile in the Greedy Duck and get us some chow.”
They both laughed.
“Seriously,” said Carrie,”I owe you dinner.”
“You owe me nothing – but I’m not turning down dinner at the Greedy Duck.”
Carrie was relieved; she had this wonderful man captive for another hour, at least.
Cameron was relieved; he had this wonderful woman for another hour, at least. “I liked the Tiffany touch,” he said, “I take it we narrowly escaped a third-degree interrogation and having our lives planned for us?”
Carrie was glad they had been stopped at the junction of City Road waiting for traffic to clear; when Cameron had said ‘us’ it had come as such a shock that she might have let go of the wheel – in her head choirs of heavenly angels sang glorious hallelujahs. Hoping she didn’t look as flushed as she felt, she turned and grinned at him. “By now she would have found out how your great-great grandfather met his wife.”
The ‘Greedy Duck’ was still quiet as they pulled into the car park a few minutes after six-thirty. They found a quiet table away from the bar.
Each of them felt completely relaxed as they chatted. They both chose the Beef Bourguignon, for which the pub was renowned, and Carrie discovered Cam’s passion for cooking.
Cameron listened to her talk about the ‘girls’ and heard the soft warning. The ‘girls’ got together – generally on a Friday night a few times a month and nothing and nobody got in the way.
Carrie began to understand the difference between a writer and a storyteller. Cameron was both, but a writer composed to be read – a storyteller composed to be listened to. He wrote under various names for different publishers but he most enjoyed telling stories, although this was not much of an earner.
Carrie almost cried at one point – and tears did begin to form.
“I know lots and lots of people,” said Cameron, “but I don’t actually have many close friends. I like to think you’re going to be a close friend, Carrie?” Had she not had a knife and fork in her hands she would have demonstrated right there and then just how close she hoped to be.
“Got to be close – Mrs. Harper said so,” replied Carrie, then immediately threw a hand to her mouth; she couldn’t believe what she had just let slip. ‘Maybe he won’t pick up on it,’ she thought, then realised – he was a storyteller with an eye for detail – no chance. She caught a glint in his eye.
“Lady, the woodland realm has been saved by us this day. We must pursue our destiny, but this will mean going into the unknown. Your carriage must be stored and we proceed on foot,” he paused over-long, but Carrie was captivated and waited. “Then you won’t be driving and I won’t be keeping you company on fizzy water and we can have a bloody drink,” he declared.
“Yeesss!” responded Carrie with glee, punching the air.
Twenty minutes later she parked her Focus in slot number seven in the private mews, and fair dragged Cameron up to the second floor of the block to her apartment.
As Carrie pulled the key from the lock and pushed the door open she paused. Turning to Cameron she grinned, “Well, Storyteller, what happens when we get to the other side of this door?”
“I’m hoping we’re going to open a bottle of wine and have a drink. Then? I don’t know, but we might discuss the wisdom of Mrs. Harper. I don’t know what she said, but you let something slip you didn’t mean to at the pub, didn’t you?”
They sat together on a double settee. On the low table Carrie had placed a wine cooler in which a refreshing Riesling reposed, ready for further attention. It wasn’t long before they were on to their second glass. They chatted, but a tension was building – both wondered about making the first move. Finally, Cameron put his glass down.
“Carrie, when I first set eyes on you in Waterstones all I wanted to do at that moment was walk over to you and kiss you, but all I could…”
Further speech was impossible, as with the speed of a striking cobra Carrie had sealed his mouth with hers. She was ripping his shirt from his trousers to get her hands on his flesh. Cameron was no more subtle in his quest for breast. Each was trying to implode the others lungs with their kissing. Carrie had flung her body over his so that his thigh was attacking her crotch as she rode him like a Sybian. At the same time, her bra had been forced up and Cameron was sucking greedily on her right nipple. He sensed her whole body responding. He continued with the hard forcing of his thigh into her groin against her clit while sucking her nipples.
Her release, when it came, was as spectacular as it was loud and she clung to him, limpet-like, while the tremors of her body began to subside. Eventually she was able to take deep, but normal, breaths rather than the frantic inhalation of air usually associated with a steam engine.
Cameron held her close; he lowered her down from the high, he made her know she was safe.
A full five minutes passed before Carrie managed to speak.
“I have never had anything so intense in my life. My God! Look at me, I’m soaked.” Her grey trousers were now darkened by her explosive orgasm. Cameron too had experienced the fallout and he felt as if he had wet himself.
“Girl, that was just amazing. Now, tell me what Mrs. Harper actually said.”
“Wheeew! Wow! Okay, I’m going to tell you what the ‘Voice of Wisdom’ had to say. Then we are going to prepare ourselves to be obedient to it, alright?”
Cameron began to kiss her again, but softly, and with tease. He cupped her breasts and tweaked her nipples.
“Enough,” she cried, “ Mrs. Harper told me to get you into my bed and I intend to do that – come on, Mr. Storyteller, I want to see that cock, and then we are going to fuck!”
Cameron began to kiss her again but she held him away. “My pants are sopping and I am going to chafe, and you’re the same. I want us to make love. I can’t believe I am saying this to a man I only met this morning… but let’s have a shower together.”
“Queen of all Hearts, let us make it so.”
Cameron stood up and brought Carrie to her feet. He kissed her again before beginning to pull her sweater, along with her bra, up over her head. Carrie began to unbutton his shirt and once she was able to run her hands over his chest she drew herself closer to him so that her now erect nipples brushed against him. It felt like a mini electric shock, and when he trailed a fingernail down her spine her knees nearly folded.
No words were spoken but they moved in harmony, stepping back from each other at the same moment. Carrie unbuttoned her trousers and provocatively slid down the zip on her left hip. Cameron followed her lead but at a more business-like pace – he wanted to be naked to watch his lover complete her strip for him. Carrie sat on the settee to finish taking off her trousers, and quickly remove her socks. She stood again and feasted her eyes on the semi-erect penis in front of her. She liked what she saw. She turned slowly as she removed the soaked panties, and Cameron had his first view of her beautifully proportioned bottom. As she turned to face him he was pleased to see a neatly trimmed triangle of pubic hair that partly hid the secret lips he was longing to explore.
Carrie stepped forward and took him by the hand to lead him to the bathroom. He realised that he didn’t even know his way round her apartment, but he was delighted that she had a walk-in shower with plenty of room for them both, and side jets as well as a hand spray.
For twenty minutes they soaped and caressed each other liberally and sexually. Cameron got behind Carrie and pushed his erection down so that it was trapped by her bum. When she moved to release it she felt the thrill of it tracing a path up between her cheeks. He got carried away massaging her pussy, and she squirted again and had to hold both him and the rail to stay upright. She was determined to feel his cock against her and pulled him in close by the cheeks of his bum – she ran her finger up his crack and, feeling bold, pushed it into his anus.
“Enough,” he gasped, “time to get dry.”
Carrie produced two giant super-soft towels which they lovingly applied to each other. She gave her hair a vigorous toweling and Cameron worshipped the way in which her breasts swayed while she did so.
“Time to obey the commands of Mrs. Harper,” she said softly.
“A very wise woman,” he responded.
Once in the bedroom they took turns to explore each other intimately. The passion of the settee helped to slow them, and Carrie was careful not to caress the splendid erection that kept poking her too much, for fear of tipping him over the edge. Indeed that nearly happened when she took his whole length into her mouth. She thrilled at the sight of him moving his head inexorably up between her thighs, making no secret of his intentions. He pushed his tongue as deep as he could into her cunt then drew it up to suck and tease her lips before beginning work on her clit. He was a master, and it wasn’t long before she was in the throes of an almost continual orgasm.
“Stop, stop, stop, I need to rest a moment,” she cried. “In fact, pour us another glass of wine, darling – there’s another bottle in the fridge if we need it.”
She watched as he walked out of the bedroom on this most worthy errand, and she drooled at the sight of his beautiful bum. He returned a minute later with their two glasses, and then treated her to his bum again as he went and fetched the fresh bottle and the wine cooler. They sipped their wine.
“In a minute I want you to fuck me as hard as you like – I want to feel your spunk shooting into me. I want to watch your face as you cum. Don’t try and hold off, just fill me with cock and pump your cum into me. Oh, and don’t worry that we haven’t a condom – that’s taken care of by clever little pills.”
“Do we have to report back to Mrs. Harper on this?” he asked.
Carrie lay back and spread her legs as wide as she could. “I’ll make a point of it when I go and see Liz next week. Now get that cock in there, mister, and fuck me.”
“Oh, my God, that feels sooo good,” gasped Carrie as he pushed his prick into her. He adjusted his position so that he was leaning up on his arms and he began a slow and steady thrusting. As they got their rhythm in harmony he increased the pace to a furious pounding. Carrie’s noises were almost incoherent until she cried aloud, “I’m cuuummming again!”
Cameron’s pounding was now accompanied by a schlap-schlapping sound, and he could feel himself approaching his own climax. He slowed. “I am going to shoot my spunk into you any moment,” he gasped. Carrie wrapped her legs across him as he fired into her. When the last strings of cum had erupted he lay down on her while the final few drops escaped, and his erection began to subside.
After some minutes they had both gathered their breath. Cameron rolled off to Carrie’s left side. “Wow – Queen of all Hearts, you are truly fantastic.”
“And you, Lord of Time – you sure know how to fuck a girl good. I have never had anything like that before; thank you, thank you, it was just unbelievable.”
They lay propped up against the soft headboard in quiet contentment.
“Oh, this is sooo amazing. I can feel your cum beginning to ooze out of me. I’ll change the sheets tomorrow.”
They sipped their wine. Carrie decided that she would call him Cat, and he was content with that.
“Are you anything other than Carrie?” he asked.
“Cas – I like my special friends to call me Cas.”
“Shorter than Queen of all Hearts – but I will use that occasionally and think of nibbling your toes.”
Carrie thought she might cry. Instead she put her glass down and kissed him long and soft while gently caressing his prick. She moved her head down and began sucking him. She tasted their mixed juices on him and continued to explore new ways of sucking and licking. Finally he was hard again.
“Come down the bed my darling, and just lie back.” Cat moved, and she lowered herself onto him, keeping up a steady rising trot on her steed. Cat feasted his eyes on her gorgeous swinging tits, teasing the nipples and pulling her down so he could suck. He began to buck. Carrie had two more orgasms, crying that she could not believe it was happening. Then Cat held her hips still and shot another load of cum into her already sloppy, oozing cunt.
They remained, enjoying their sensations until Cat’s prick slipped from her, followed by a small torrent of juices. Cas leaned over for wads of tissue and cleaned both of them up a little.
“Do you have a goldfish that needs taking for a walk,” she asked, “or can you stay?”
“I will show you the aquarium tomorrow, but there’s nothing I need go home for tonight. Besides, it will be so much easier to bring you tea in bed if I stay.”
Cas beamed at him. She could not remember feeling so happy. “I better give you a quick tour of the place,” she said, “and I think another little shower is called for.”
Part two follows…
