Anyone for Tennis, Dennis?
Chapter 3 --An All-Over sensation.
Saturday morning, I did my own weekend chores quickly. I had to have clean clothes for work. The cottage needed a quick clean over.
I made myself a quick early lunch. I could not eat much for the butterflies in my tummy.
Why was I so nervous? I was acting like a teenager again.
I thought carefully over what to wear.
I chose a short-ish, light, summer skirt that would let the cool breeze over my bottom if needed. And tempt him of course.
I pondered hard about wearing a bra. My boobs were only a 32C. Moderate enough. I could get away without a bra. Would that be too tarty?
Well I was a bit of a tart.
I had had sex with a man less than thirty minutes after meeting him. In my book that was the sign of a true slut.
And yet...
And yet it was not like that.
In the end I decided to go without the bra, but to wear a top that was not too revealing - a button-down shirt that I could unbutton as needed.
I wondered about knickers.
My tight Tennis knickers again? The ones that had tempted Dennis in the first place.
Or the gorgeous new silk panties? Small, tight and sensuous.
I chose the silk panties.
Under the short skirt they almost felt like wearing nothing at all. Gods! They were so sexy.
I packed my cleaned tennis gear into a bag and took that along anyway.
Was I going to play any tennis?
I doubted it.
But it would act as a foil. An excuse. Something to provide a reason. In my mind, if not to anyone else who might ask.
At 2:00 pm exactly I walked up to the gates.
The previous weekend they had been open for the villagers to come and go during the competition.
Today the huge wood gates were closed and locked and forbidding.
As I put my hand to them, I heard a click and a smaller, pedestrian-gate, opened slightly within the larger gate.
I pushed at it. It opened further.
I pushed it closed behind me and heard a click. That felt ominous. It was as if I had committed myself to going onwards.
I heard a voice from some sort of intercom loudspeaker on the gatepost.
"The lawn behind the house."
That sounded like Dennis.
It was a long walk up the drive and then round a path alongside The Hall.
Dennis was sitting on the patio within the rear lawn. He was dressed as impeccably as before.
"Bonne journée."
"Bonjour." I managed to reply. My mouth was dry. Both from the walk and the tension. He still looked confident and masterful. Handsome and beautiful.
On the table between us was a bottle of champagne, a plate of scones loaded with jam and cream.
There were two glasses and two plates.
"Asseoir." He gestured. I thought I knew what that meant but hesitated.
"Pardon."
"Sit." It was a simple command. Gentle. But still a command. It could be taken as a simple gesture. But this was Him. Dennis. He had a presence. I knew he was commanding.
I put my tennis bag to the side and sat.
"Bonne. You can sit. This is good." He smiled at me.
He leaned forward to pour the champagne.
"Notre premier rendez-vous a été précipité. We were rushed. Non?"
"A bit yes." I admitted.
"Today we go slow."
I wondered what that meant.
"Please drink." He raised his glass. "Salut."
I picked my glass and sipped. I was no Champagne or even a wine connoisseur. But it tasted good.
I was always hesitant to drink during the day. I was a lightweight.
Dennis placed a scone from the centre plate onto each of the smaller plates. He pushed one closer to me.
"I see you liked these." He said. "You..." He hesitated. Maybe looking for the right word?
"You cream your face?" He smiled as if there was some extra meaning.
I hoped that he wasn't intending to cream my face. That would be something very different.
I took the scone. I have had a lot of scones. There is a good baker near the office, so I have often indulged on a hot summer's day. But these were excellent. One of the best.
Naturally I got cream on my cheeks and my nose.
Dennis had eaten his with no mess at all. He chuckled. I melted when I heard his sexy, light chuckle.
Then he stood. Walked over to me. Gripped my hair to pull may head back and proceeded to lick the cream off my face. I was caught by surprise. It was firm, yet gentle and so terribly erotic.
He had not asked. But then HE wouldn't.
When he continued by licking the excess cream off the end of my nose then all around my lips. I would have let him continue.
Even after he had finished and stood back a little, he continued to hold my head so that I was looking straight into his eyes.
Gods! Those gorgeous blue eyes that could look right through me.
"Can you be a good girl?" He asked.
I was not sure what he meant, but I know that I wanted to be. I wanted to answer yes. I wanted to be near this man. I loved the way he looked. I loved the way he took control. I loved the way he thought.
"Yes." I said, a bit timidly.
"Good." He let go of my hair. "Stand"
I stood.
He started to unbutton my blouse. No asking. That was not his way.
Had I agreed to this?
Yes Of course I had. When I accepted the invitation. And willingly walked here. And I just told him I would be good. I was not completely sure what that meant, though I was beginning to get the idea. I was happy to follow.
Once all the buttons were undone and my blouse opened, Dennis stared at my naked breasts.
"No brassiere? A naughty girl. Yes?" He scolded. He pushed the blouse off my shoulders.
I felt naked, exposed.
We were on his estate. There was surely no-one else around but the two of us.
"Magnifique." He said. "Beau. A perfect size." He raised a hand to pinch my left nipple. I liked my nipples played with during sex. I could even take quite a bit of rough treatment.
Even so, he pinched until I winced a little, then he pinched just a touch harder before he let go.
I felt myself flood my new silk panties. I could feel a blush rise up my neck.
"So?" he folded my blouse onto the table. Then reached for the zip on my skirt.
I still had not reacted. I had not tried to stop him. I didn't want to stop him.
"Lift." He said as he reached my feet.
By lifting my feet I was giving him full permission.
He carefully took the skirt off each foot without it touching the ground. He removed my sandals and my wrist-watch, so that I was now standing in just the tiny, ivory-silk, panties he had given me. He placed the skirt and sandals on the table. It was a reminder that I was nearly naked and that he could and would choose when I would wear them again.
"Parfaite." He said standing back to look. He walked all around me. I felt a finger trail down my spine. I felt his soft hand graze slowly over my bottom.
"Forme parfait." Then "it is the perfect shape. Round, soft, Beautiful." His hands lingered.
"It is good. Un cul fait pour la fessée. This made for a spank. But perhaps this day we give your bottom a vacation." He said.
I did not know what that meant. But if he meant that I would not get a spanking I felt a moment's disappointment. I had never felt like I had last Sunday. Or the continuing feelings on the days following. I craved it more.
I felt both his hands on my shoulders as he stepped close in behind me. He whispered in my ear. Maybe he noticed me sag a little in disappointment. "How much do you like the pain?" He asked.
Truthfully? I did not know.
"I don't know." I said.
"Que? So tell me." His breath on my ears was erotic.
What was I to tell him?
"I... I think I knew that I wanted more. I craved it. I've fooled around a bit with boyfriends. But have not found someone who I could ask to give me more. I don't know how to ask. I don't know how to trust." I was jabbering. Scared. Very unsure of myself.
"Do you trust me?" He asked.
Gods. My mind screamed at me. 'You hardly know him.'
I could hear Sarah, in my head, warning me to run away.
"Yes." I said. An answer that came straight from my loins. My brain had no control over my vocal chords.
"Good." He almost purred in my ear. "You will let me find your limits. You will find yourself. It is a good thing to know one's-self. You will do this?"