Carols Invitation

"Susanne never mentioned that you were interested in photography," Carol said. It was our second date and we were sitting in a small restaurant in Soho. Susanne and Stefan, mutual friends, had kind of strong-armed us into a going out together. But she was ... maybe slightly weird. Weird but good. Or good but weird. Second date and I wasn't really any wiser.

The good side was that she looked fascinating. I was trying hard not to stare all the time. Mother Indonesian, father Spanish. Dark olive skin and jet black hair. Almond eyes but a straight nose and a bust that was slightly, almost obscenely, big for her frame. The weird? Well she was a corporate lawyer for a start, with a keen ear for picking out any inanities, stupidities or contradictions in anything I said. She had a fascination for international trading regulations that verged on the obsessive. But also an equally passionate hobby of collecting Modesty Blaise cartoons from the 60's and 70's. There was a resemblance between her and the big busted comic heroine. And she became animatedly and quite loveably enthusiastic when she got her teeth into one or the other of her passions. I hadn't expected much. It was a case of making our friends happy by trying to find out if their two single friends might get along.

But approaching the end of our second night, despite her kooky charms, I wasn't getting the feeling that this was going anywhere. When I had thought about seeing Carol, my senses tingled. But on both nights, every time I tried to even touch her hand, it would slip away. Fuck, if only she looked like a boring, middle-class professional, I could write it off. In fact I probably wouldn't even have gone on the date. But her eyes. And the curve of her arse.

I looked blank. It wasn't the first time with Carol.

"Photography? You were showing me photos on your Instagram feed. That's a photo app. So I assumed you liked photography."

"They're nothing special," I said. "I just do them on my iPhone."

"But you've also got Tumblr, I saw. Most people use that for collecting photos," Carol said.

"Oh I hardly ever use that one."

"But I saw, when you were flicking through your screens," Carol continued, "Siri's suggestions show the four apps you use most. One of them was Tumblr."

I felt a blush coming on. The fucking lawyer had caught me again. "Oh, well, maybe a bit more often then, I think. Yeah, you know I can often find photos there that I like. Like, kind of arty and ..."

"Ah, I think I get it," Carol said. "Arty..."

I looked blank again. Blanker than blank. A kind of red flushed kind of blank.

"I think we should go for a walk," Carol said. So we did, meandering through Soho and ending up at Trafalgar Square, talking about interesting travel destinations (me) and the iniquities of the London Transport fare structure (her). Beneath Nelson's Column we stopped.

"Do you want to show me the kind of arty photos you look at on Tumblr?" she asked. Cornered, I wordlessly took out my phone and opened up Tumblr. She looked. And swiped. Not a trace of emotion. And handed me back my phone.

"You know, Dan, I've had a lovely night. Thank you. Would you like to come and visit me tomorrow afternoon at 3?" She took out her phone and whatsapped me her address. "It was really great." And then she turned away to leave, took three steps and then turned to come back and give me a peck on the cheek. The first intimate touch we'd had in two dates. "Till tomorrow!"

The next day, at three minutes after three, I rang her bell. I'd been pacing the streets for over ten minutes, having got there early, eager and intrigued to find out what the summons meant. It was a new block of flats in Swiss Cottage. All glass and steel. Modern and professional for a modern young professional like Carol was. She buzzed me up to the top floor, where she opened the door to her apartment as I approached. As usual, her hair was tied up into a top knot, orderly and neat as it had always been before on our dates. I'd assumed: correct, efficient, practical for a lawyer in her position. But today, she also wore a slinky, tight black blouse, open to her cleavage but not revealing too much. A black, mid-thigh pencil skirt. And fishnet stockings with heels.

I gulped.

It looked strict. But she wasn't carrying a rod in her hand.

"Come in," she said, and frankly she looked as uncomfortable as I did. I guess she didn't have many guests. Or at least ones she greeted in heels. On a Saturday afternoon.

Inside everything was clean, tasteful and orderly. Carol led me to the living room and invited me to sit down. I was half expecting her to ask if I wanted a cup of tea.

"You've been very kind to me," she started. "Two dates and you've ..." She hesitated. "Can I just say I liked those photos? ... A lot ..." She floundered. The words, the sentences, the message slipping out of her grasp. Then she took a deep breath, looked at me. "I wish you had expected something. i couldn't tell, but I hoped. ... Listen. My ex. It's two years ago, or more. He was a cunt." That word just exploded out of her mouth, usually so controlled and deliberate. "He never listened. He'd talk over me. I was a pretty thing to have like Murano vase or a Lamborghini in the garage. But when we had sex, he'd just take me, use me, finish himself and leave again. I hated it and ... I fucking loved it."

There was a silence in the room. She had a tear in one eye. It rolled down her cheek taking a trail of mascara with it.

"Yes," I said. "And no. Just like you hated it and loved it." I stood up and asked Carol to stand as well. Close to one another I put my finger under her chin, raising it slightly so she looked me right in the eye. "I couldn't tell what you wanted. But now you've put it out there and told me. I know you wouldn't give that to anyone. Do you want me to take care of it and give you what you need?"

Carol nodded. I traced the contour under her breasts with my finger and felt her shiver. "We spent two evenings together. From what you saw there, do feel you can place your trust in me? That I can give you what you want, yet make it different?" She nodded again, with a slight shudder.

"Sure?"

"I'm sure," Carol said.

"I think we need to start over again," I told her. "I'm going to go out the door. You have five minutes to fix your make-up. I want long lashes. Higher heels." She looked down at her heels. Nice shoes but not quite fuck me enough.

"Okay?" I asked.

She nodded. "So do I," she said with a slight smile.

I walked to the door and as I was about to open it, Carol said: "Dan. My safe word. It's 'vanilla'."

Inside my heart, I thought, how stupid, how obvious, how literal, how perfect. What else should it be? And realized I had been falling in love ever since that first date.

I shut the door behind me and walked to the landing window, looking out towards the centre of London. My feelings were simmering away inside me. I knew I had been given a precious gift, but just how much had I been given? How deep could her trust go? How much could she sacrifice and how much could I give in return? The minutes ticked by and with trepidation I approached the door again and rang the bell.

Carol opened the door again. The blouse open one button more. Her eyes smokey dark with long lashes and far trashier than her usual professional look. And her heels making her leg muscles tighter and her backside tensed up. A hint of a smile on her face. Which disappeared and changed to panic as I stepped forward, grabbed her throat, kicked the door shut behind me and spun her roughly around against the wall. With one foot, I forced her legs further apart which made her skirt rise up higher. I bent one arm behind her back so she couldn't move and pulled her skirt higher until I could get my hand between her legs. Underneath her fishnet pantyhose she was wearing no knickers. I put my fingers through the net and could feel her wetness.

"There's no-one else here?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"So you get this way all by yourself?" I pushed one finger inside her. She nodded. "And is anyone expecting you today? To visit? To call? Or someone coming round?"

She shook her head again.

"Then we have all night..."

Keeping one arm twisted behind her back and with my hand still on her throat, I moved Carol towards what I suspected was the bedroom. My guess was right. Inside was a large king size bed with with a duvet. An armchair and on her dressing table, neatly lined up, was a selection of dildos, vibrators, a couple of butt plugs, some lube, a wooden paddle and everything else needed for an afternoon of games. A good lawyer always comes prepared.

I pushed her over the back of the armchair, head down in the cushions, arse up in the air and exposed for the world to see. Kneeling behind her, I ripped apart her fishnet pantyhose and took a big long lick of her dripping pussy. It was sweet, swollen and sodden. I took another and then tickled with the tip of my tongue the place between her slit and her arse, and moved higher to trace around its puckering, quivering rose. Tickling it and lapping at it for a minute or two before poking my tongue into the middle and forcing two fingers into her cunt to find the spongy point of her g-spot. Carol suddenly bucked and exploded, gushing a stream of juice over my chin and shirt. As Carol convulsed and slid over the back of the armchair to huddle in a ball in its seat, I took my clothes off and went round to gather her in my arms as she shivered and slowly came back to her senses. Her hands slid to my erect cock and held it like it was an anchor, a long lost friend.

Slowly I picked her up and took her over to lie on the bed, where she curled up for a few minutes, her head on my lap, her top knot unravelling and her eyes glassy as I caressed her. When her breathing returned to normal, I raised her head to mine and we finally kissed, long and passionately, our tongues swirling together like twisting currents in a stream. I removed the rest of her clothes apart from the torn panty hose and lay her out on the bed, on her back with her head hanging over the edge and then stood up to fuck her mouth. Slowly I eased my member in, coating it with her spit and saliva, gently in and out and more forceful with each stroke until I could fit in all the way, my balls crashing into her face with every thrust. Every fourth or fifth time she'd begin to choke. I'd give her a brief respite before thrusting in again. Lipstick on my cock, her make-up and mascara running down her face in a stream of saliva. It felt so tight; a perfect fit. A sacrifice of her body for my pleasure yet my stiffness being a sign of her power over me. One last thrust and I withdrew to take her in my arms and kiss her and hold her face and bathe it with gentle touches. It became quiet with just the sound of her breathing as I think she dozed for a minute to two, yet my cock was still at attention, waiting its turn.

As she slumbered, I slipped out of her arms and fetched a blindfold and some ties from the table, along with the paddle. She stirred as I turned her over onto her front and began to wake as I put the blindfold over her eyes. All just playful? Maybe not as I took her hands and tied them behind her back. No joke - there was more indignity to come.

I forced her into a kneeling position and pressed her head down into the pillows to show her to remain quiet. Then I took the paddle and gave her arse a hefty slap. She yelped. I waited for the sting to subside somewhat before touching the red mark on her backside. I swung the paddle again but didn't strike. But she could feel the swish of air and flinched. And before she could recover, I gave the other cheek a firm slap of the paddle. And another, and again. She squirmed around on the sheets, not knowing which sting was worse and where it might be next. I reached underneath and gave one of her nipples a sharp twist. Carol continued to squirm and I pushed her head down into the pillows again so she could hardly breathe. Kneeling behind her, I rubbed the tip of my cock up and down her labia and over her clit. She pushed back, desperate to have me inside her. Then I gently drew my nails down the backside of her cheeks, causing her spasms of pain. And as she jolted away from my fingertips, I grabbed her hips and pushed my hard member inside of her.

She wanted to kick out and lay flat but i used one hand on the back of her neck to keep her in position, face crushed into the bedding, barely able to breathe; arse in the air, open and vulnerable for whatever I wanted to do next. I pinned her in that position with my cock. No in and out. Circular movements to dig deeper and deeper into her cunt. Only when she realized that she had to accept the position, did I draw back, pulling my glistening cock out almost all the way before plunging it hard and deep back into her. She screamed. Agony, pleasure? Neither of us gave a fuck.

Again and faster, increasing pace till I was jack-hammering into her as he was pinned into that ignoble state. With one more hard thrust that made her scream again, I pulled out, flipped her over, pushed her legs back over her shoulders and entered her again. With one hand around her throat, I increased the pace again, her eyes glazed over again as she slid into another state. I took my hand off her throat and pinched her nipple, first one then the other. The pain briefly ripped her out of her ecstasy before the fading sensation tipped her back into it even deeper. I pressed my pelvic bone harder onto her clit, lay on her and blew gently onto the side of her neck, getting closer, licking, breathing up towards her ear until i penetrated it with my tongue. That tipped her over the edge. She screamed. Her pussy muscles clenched me like in a vice and my orgasm exploded inside her. She spasmed and bucked, almost forcing me out, and shivered and shuddered as wave after wave of sensation engulfed her. I put my fingers in her pussy, scooped up some of our cum and lifted it to her mouth where she sucked it off like a vampire starved of blood. I withdrew and tried to hold her as she shook and whimpered on the bed. Her make-up was shot, mascara streaked across her face, lipstick smeared and cum all around her mouth. But it took more than three or four minutes for her to come down from her high and she clambered over to hold me tight. One arm around me, her head on my shoulder and the other hand on my dick, clutching it like a talisman, stroking it and responding to every small twitch.

After ten minutes she finally said: "Why didn't we do that on the first date?"

"Trust?", I said, "maybe you wanted to be sure."

"I could never be sure. Maybe I just needed time to take the risk."

"And?"

"Maybe I'll take more risk."

She shifted position, robbed down and took my half erect cock in her mouth and licked me clean until I was at full mast again.

"I can be in charge too, you know?" she smiled as she hopped off the bed and twisted her hair back into a severe topknot. "Wait there while I go and clean myself up." And with that she hopped off into the bathroom and shut the door.

I heard the shower run and in that time I went to look at what goodies she had on the table. Being so well prepared, there was nothing missing that could be needed for many more adventures. I wondered what I could do with the rope. The bathroom door opened again and Carol came out, wrapped in a white towel. With a nod of her head, she said, "Your turn. I have to get ready." I started to the bathroom. "Wait," she said. She came close, slipped a hand under the towel, between her legs and brought it out, proffering me a glistening finger to lick. She whispered in my ear: "Take your time but not all night!"

Clean fluffy towels were waiting for me and a spare toothbrush. I cleaned up and without a towel, my cock growing again in anticipation, I opened the door to the bedroom. Carol was waiting for me. Her make-up was perfect again. Smoky sexy dark eyes with long lashes. A lipstick that was red and dark lilac, screaming boudoir. Sheer black see-through underwear that could scarcely hide her nipples or her pussy. A garter belt and black stockings that led down to obscenely high heels in black in which she could hardly stand.

"Do you want another go?" she asked. And looked down below my waistline. "It looks like the answer is yes."

She dropped to her knees and took my cock in her mouth again, quickly bringing it to full strength and then, after a few attempts, she forced it down to the back of her throat, her lips touching my groin. She pushed my back down on to the bed, raised my legs and took one ball after another into her mouth before licking the spot just behind and then tracing her tongue around my arse before poking her tongue in the spot. After rimming me for five minutes, she clambered on top of me and placed her sopping cunt on my face, grinding away until another orgasm shook her. As she collapsed beside me, I stroked her cheek and then got up.

Taking some handcuffs from the table, I cuffed her hands together above her head and brought her teetering to her feet. I looped a rope between the cuffs, tied a knot and threw the other end of the rope over a beam in the ceiling in front of the floor length window. As it came down again, I pulled her upright, stretching her upwards, and tied the the rope to the handle of the window. Outside it was getting dark, lights beginning to go on in the London vista that stretched out before us. I turned on our bedside light so that Carol was illuminated. Not in a spotlight, but half in the shadows, her profile, her heels, her lingerie, exposed enough to intrigue anyone who might happen to look up five stories. I approached her from behind, pushed her thighs apart and placed my rock hard cock between her legs. I pulled the cups of her bra down and started to maul her breasts, now squeezed and squished together, pulling her nipples roughly while placing gentle kisses on her neck. She started to sway, barely able to stand. With one hand I pushed my cock upwards to press on her cunt and clit through the soaked sheer black fabric. I pressed her against the window, its cold surface making her shudder, her eyes flickering down to the street to see if anyone had spotted her in her indignity.

I released her and the rope from the handle, letting her collapse to her knees. Taking her hair, bunched in one hand, I forced her to sink my cock in her mouth and walking slowly backwards, we moved towards the bed. I draped her on her knees, over the bed and fetched a butt plug, lubed it up, moved her briefs to one side and slowly inserted it in and out of her back hole. It stretched her, uncomfortable, tingling but devastating as her juices flowed into her soaked knickers. I raised her to her feet, still tottering in her heels.

"Can you walk?" I asked.

"I don't think so."

Patting her backside at the exact place where the butt plug was made her shiver. I pulled her knickers down to her hips to expose it.

"Now go and get us a glass of wine," I told her. "And don't drop anything on the way." Taking tiny little steps in her atmospherically high heels, Carol teetered off to the kitchen, giving me a little wiggle of her backside, the jeweled plug twinkling between her cheeks. I lay on the bed and stroked my erection as I could hear her rummage around in the kitchen. And then she came back. What a good girl. Not just two glasses of wine, but carrying a tray with two glasses and a bottle on it. I loved the way she made it just that bit more difficult for herself, as it wobbled and threatened to fall. Bending carefully at the knees, she rested the tray on the bedside table, straightened up again and them bent at the waist offering me a view of her backside while she opened the bottle. To tease me, she pushed the plug out a bit and then sucked it back in before it popped out. My cock twitched with lust.