Adoration

It came as little surprise to find that she had already removed her panties but I was not prepared for the sight of her pubis which was dressed with a lush growth of hair somewhat darker than one might have been led to expect.

It was a neatly trimmed triangle but it seemed, somehow, out of keeping. I guess I assumed that it was de rigeur nowadays for young women to go for a smoother look.

As if reading my thoughts she ran a finger through the tight curls and I was wafted with her scent. She wanted me to know that my performance with Penny had aroused her and now, more importantly, she wanted me to do something about it.

Even as I told myself that I must not abase myself in this manner I felt drawn closer to her until I could feel the warmth of her thighs against my face. I understood that I was, in some way, on a dangerous downward spiral but reason no longer played a part.

Driven by something far more instinctive I began to nuzzle her sex letting my nose graze the silken covering as I inhaled deeply. She smelt freshly showered but it was overpowered by her natural offering.

This fleeting contact excited her but I was not prepared as she closed her legs and squeezed me tightly. For a few seconds the sounds of the performance were muted and I was aware of my own rapid pulse sounding in my ears.

The pressure was painful but she was greedy for more and she made herself relax. Her pubis was now damp and this emphasised her surprisingly prominent labia. As I began to explore with my tongue they had an almost tactile quality and, judging by her barely restrained squirming, they were incredibly sensitive.

Little by little I worked my way deeper inside until my tongue could reach no further and I could feel her body stiffening.

My position put a strain on my neck to add to the increasing complaints of my knees but now that my tongue was awash with the taste of her it had an almost narcotic effect.

There was nothing youthful about it. It was the taste of a sexually mature woman at the height of arousal and I could no longer deny myself. As I continued to savour her I thrust my hand into my own damp panties and pushed my fingers deep into my sopping sex.

I shocked myself by coming almost immediately. It was a wrenching, panting, orgasm and my hot breath worked to increase her excitement. She clutched me to her with hands enjoined behind my head and I did not want it to end but she pushed herself at me just a little more forcibly making it clear that she expected me to put her needs first.

My tongue was sore by now and so I took the less strenuous option of working on her clitoris. It was easy to find; a plump bud already standing proud of her labia and I licked with a rhythm that matched my own ebbing climax.

She tolerated this for a few moments but an insistent pressure from her fingers told me that she wanted me to give it more effort.

I was tempted to defy her and to tease her to a finish at a pace of my choosing but I was uncomfortably hot. My whole body felt clammy with perspiration and my face, wet for so long, was feeling raw. So, I acceded to her demand and began to flick my tongue more quickly.

The effect was immediate. Her body began to shake and then convulse almost uncontrollably. I feared that she was going to draw attention to us but there was little I could do about it as, once again, her legs scissored me in a vice-like grip.

This, at least, stilled her movements but the stifled cramps of pleasure were transmitted to me as a series of painful compressions.

Fortunately, she quickly reached a point where she could take no more and, with a reluctant effort she unhooked her legs and set me free.

The hush of the theatre and the plaintive call of a single oboe seemed unreal after what had taken place but the world was exactly as it had been. No one noticed as I retook my seat and Beatrice adjusted her clothing.

No one, that is, except Penny. With a wicked smile on her face she handed me a tissue and a fresh glass of champagne.

I cleaned my face as best I could and then took a sip but found myself working the cool, dry, effervescence around the inside of my mouth allowing it to mix with the thicker taste that coated it before swallowing slowly.

I knew that I had to get a grip of myself, to try and understand what was happening to me, but my brain refused to function. As the applause for the close of the third act died away Penny leaned across.

"Do you have any plans for afterwards?"

Beatrice answered with a knowing grin.

"Nothing I can't get out of."

"Then I suggest that we three leave right now and get to know one another better..."

Chapter 6

The following morning, as I sneaked out from Penny's apartment, my sense of guilt and self-loathing was almost crushing. It was this, perhaps, that led me, once I was washed and changed, back to the hospital.

His condition appeared unchanged but the doctors said that there were positive signs. I sat with him for a while just holding his hand but I felt a coldness inside knowing that things would never be the same.

I loved him once, I was sure of it, and I wondered if the accident had, in some way, altered my feelings towards him but the truth was we had already been drifting apart.

Though it was hard to say for certain I was sure that my memory was fully restored. I could even remember the moments leading up to the accident and cursed our luck.

He said that car was not responding properly. None of the multifarious warning lights had come on but he is a good driver and I trusted his judgement. It was just bad luck that he pulled over on a part of the motorway that was a complete dead spot for our mobile phones.

He suggested that we put on the hazard lights and wait for a little while to see if a police car passed but after twenty minutes or so I insisted that he left me whilst he walked to the nearest emergency phone.

It was as he was getting out of the car that we were struck from behind and after that I woke up in hospital.

It was only now that it occurred to me that the car was still drivable and we should have simply crawled along the hard shoulder in first gear until we reached the phone. That way he would not even have to have worried about leaving me.

The more I thought about it the more it nagged at me. It was the sort of practical thing he would normally have suggested.

At that instant something fell into place and I rushed from the room.

I took a cab across town to the Metropole where I asked of for Ellen Fielding. I was pleased, but mildly surprised, when they found her in the register but this was followed by disappointment when I found that she had checked out.

My mind was in business mode and I acted decisively. I returned to the office and called in Janet. After a half hour briefing I told her that I was leaving her in charge whilst I made a trip.

I knew that I was leaving things in capable hands. Janet had made herself indispensible as office manger since joining a little over three years ago and I was already of a mind to offer her a junior directorship when the time was right.

Five hours later I was seated in the departure lounge at Heathrow awaiting the flight to San Diego. It seemed a rash thing to do but it had the benefit of getting me away from Penny and giving me time to clear my head.

I told the stewardesses that I did not want meals, that I was not to be disturbed, and I arrived relatively refreshed. I took a room at the Marriott and decided that I would surprise Tate the following morning.

I could not be bothered to trail around looking for a restaurant and so I decided to eat in the hotel. I booked a table but went down a little early and had a cocktail at the bar. I was used to attracting male attention but today I seemed, somehow, more aware of it; perhaps I was simply trying to reassert my heterosexual credentials.

I was not the only one causing male hormones to rage. Sitting alone at a corner table was another single female. She was absorbed by her laptop giving me a chance to appraise her as every man in the room was doing by turns.

She was conservatively dressed in a business suit and, as far as I could judge, she was of Middle Eastern extraction. She had her hair pulled back from her face in a tight chignon which emphasised her dark features.

I was impressed with her make-up which was a little heavy but tastefully applied adding to her air of exoticism. I would have put her age somewhere in her thirties but something about her suggested that she might, in fact, have been a few years older.

One customer, bolder than his fellows, walked across to her table and she was clearly annoyed. He was obviously not taking no for an answer but she was not going to give him the satisfaction of moving away.

She stood up and I feared a scene. Almost without thinking I picked up my glass and walked across.

"Sorry, have you been waiting long? I didn't see you sitting here."

Confronted by the two of us he slunk away and the woman thanked me.

"That was very thoughtful, but unnecessary."

Now that I was close up I could see that she was probably right. She was quite tall but nicely proportioned albeit with a very impressive bust. She had an aura about her that suggested that she was used to confronting this sort of situation.

More intriguing was that fact that she spoke with an unmistakable New York accent but I took my cue and turned back towards the bar,

"Wait. I'm sorry. That was rude of me. Are you here alone? Have you eaten?"

Her name was Sabeen and she was a hedge fund manager for a New York firm who were looking to establish a presence on the west coast. She had been based in San Diego for a month whilst she prepared a strategy report.

We hit it off immediately, although she struck me as a little aloof, and she was particularly intrigued about London which she had never visited. We ate and then shared a second bottle of wine back in the bar.

I was about to suggest a coffee before we went our separate ways when she took hold of my fingers,

"I see that you're married; a pity...or is it?"

Although it is hard to credit I was stunned by this forthright proposition. I had seen it as nothing more than two business women sharing one another's company. I also assumed that she was married but I noticed, only now, that she was not wearing a wedding band.

A voice in my head screamed at me to politely say goodnight but her dark eyes were issuing a mischievous challenge. It felt like a dream as I followed her to the elevator and then we were in her suite with its view over the moonlit mariner.

"Do you like to play?"

This seemingly odd question dragged me back to reality and I began to wonder how I could politely extricate myself.

I must have looked uncertain because she felt it necessary to illustrate. She opened the drawer of the bedside cabinet to reveal a number of white silk scarves but, more chillingly, an ominous looking dog whip.

"Look, I'm sorry. There's been a misunderstanding."

She smiled as she replied.

"I think not. I knew you were a submissive as soon as I saw you and, besides, why else would you seek me out?"

Was it true? Had I unwittingly given some sort of signal and, more worryingly had I been drawn to her in some subliminal manner? If so, why had it not happened to me before?

I wondered if I had changed in some way or if that first encounter with another woman had opened the door to a hitherto unseen facet of my personality.

I spoke quickly.

"It's not what I want...bondage, pain...none of it."

She looked slightly intrigued and then appeared to weigh me in the scales once more.

"A pity...but having led me along for the whole evening I'm not going to let you leave me completely frustrated."

Surely she could not have believed that I had planned it from the outset? I was about to voice my protest when she cut me short.

"Come and undress me."

She spoke with a quiet authority, a woman used to getting her own way, and, once again, it resonated.

It felt as if I had stepped out of myself as I obediently moved towards her. She had already removed her jacket and my fingers were trembling as they reached out to the buttons of her blouse.

She made no attempt to help me as I fumbled them open but simply turned so that I could ease it from her shoulders.

My eyes immediately fell to her breasts fettered by an obviously expensive bra which was certainly not a chain store item. It pulled off the trick of emphasising their shape without making them look overly large.

She allowed me to stare for a second or two before half turning so that I could unfasten the clasp.

Her skin was a beautiful dusky shade and her dark nipples stood in stark contrast. As close as I was I could see the faintest suggestion of stretch marks which seemed to confirm my conjecture that she was older than she appeared.

"You haven't finished."

She kept her hip turned presenting the side zip of her skirt and I slowly reached for it.

I knew that I was subjugating myself but I could not overcome the urge to open this deliciously exotic package. The skirt slipped down her legs to reveal that she was wearing stockings and suspenders and this heightened my excitement.

She was quite wide hipped but her legs were long and shapely and, as I went to my knees, I ran my fingers over the fine silk. As I did so I felt her relax safe now in the knowledge that I would not disappoint.

Again, my fingers were clumsy as I worked the fastenings of her suspenders but this was less to do with nervousness than it was my growing anticipation. I cast the flimsy belt aside and then proceeded to roll her stockings down her fascinatingly smooth legs.

There was no awkwardness as she stood in just her panties; she had total faith in her ability to seduce and it was not unfounded.

She allowed me a moment or two to admire her and then she stepped closer pressing her sex to my face. Her rich cotton panties were warm and damp and she teased them across my nose.

"You have a very pretty mouth...I think I'm going to enjoy this."

Again, her choice of words, and their inflection, heated my blood. I slowly reached for her panties and slipped them down.

With my new found fascination for the female form I took in the radiance of her revealed sex. Her mound was smooth but much darker than her natural complexion as if it had been given a sharp slap.

The same blow might have served to split her open as her labia, almost raw umber, were peeled back allowing a tantalizing foretaste of a molten interior.

The whole was crowned with a sharply defined vee of dark hair but I noticed with shock, and not a little amusement, that a small lateral wedge had been shaved out so that it resembled her companies' logo. There were obviously some preferred clients who were never going to forget.

I could wait no longer but she made it clear that this was to be on her terms.

"Let me make myself comfortable."

She turned from me and crossed to the room's armchair giving me an opportunity to appraise her from a different angle. She had a classic hourglass figure and her backside was just a little heavy but, as she moved, it swayed in a deliberately provocative manner.

She reclined herself and then looked me straight in the eye as she lifted her legs and spread them over the arms of the chair. I was taken aback by her effrontery but she was totally unperturbed as she tossed a cushion on the floor in front of her.

"Come and get settled in...this is going to take a while."

If I was thinking rationally I would have walked out but I was a marionette and she was skilfully pulling the strings.

I wanted to undress, to feel more at one with her, but I sensed that this was not what she wanted of me; so. I moved closer and prepared to worship at the shrine.

With her sex so wantonly displayed her scent began to pervade the room, adding to her visual magnetism, and I breathed it in like an addict. It was so strong that I could almost taste it and my mouth watered in anticipation.

I knelt before her and I could see that one or two gray hairs were adding silver accents to her pubis leading me to wonder how many women had preceded me here.

I was enraptured as it lay open before me in its glistening entirety and I kissed it with an almost holy reverence. From then on time had no meaning. I devoted myself to her licking every moist dip and crevice until I could hold back no longer.

I pointed my tongue and pressed against the token resistance until I was deeply embedded. An almost silent groan was the limit of her appreciation and I was fired with a new determination.

I curled my tongue inside her and used the very tip to massage a spot high in the roof of her sex which, for me, was incredibly sensitive.

I got an almost immediate reaction as her body shuddered but she quickly regained her composure and settled again. I managed to keep up the assault for a minute of two but it made my tongue ache appallingly and I had to relent.

It was a blessing to relax and, whether intentional or otherwise, the gentle squeezing of her internal muscles was delightfully therapeutic. It became hard to shake the notion that she was, in some way, toying with me challenging me to find the key and make her come.

It had to be soon. I had been breathing her essence for a long time and my body was telling me that I needed fresh air. I was also conscious that the continued wetness was getting deep into my pores.

I slid my tongue free to seek out her clitoris but she held me in check.

"Not yet..."

There was no doubt that, despite my discomforts, or perhaps because of them, I was in some personal nirvana but I was reaching my physical limits and she had to know. But it was then that she chose to take me to a new level.

She placed her hand on the top of my head and, as she did so, she relaxed more deeply into the chair.

Her sex was still invitingly spread but now there was more. Her perineum shone with a wetness which trailed down to a deep-set opening and I could not tear my eyes away.

My thoughts were confused and contradictory. At heart I felt a sense of revulsion. This was something I had never contemplated, although I had been a willing recipient on occasion, but, displayed in this manner, it was imbued with a sinister beauty.

"Lick it..."

Her words were a whisper but there was no doubting the hint of command. She was proud of her body and seen from my lowly position it had an Amazonian magnificence but I was hypnotised by that single dark eye.

It pulsed slightly even as I looked and her arousal was evidenced by a single bead of moisture which wept from her sex whence it succumbed to gravity and lazily followed its inevitable course down into the valley.

It was this perhaps as much as anything which finally lured me in. I bowed down and ran my tongue back up along the path it had traced and then went lower still. I knew that if I hesitated I was lost and so I licked with a single broad sweep along the whole length of her furrow.

The taste was slightly stale and there was the salinity of perspiration but, as I licked a second and third time it was more pleasant. I could feel the pent up strength of her glutei with its single focal point and I drew ever nearer.

Her skin tone shaded to charcoal as I encountered the radiating veins of firmer flesh that led the way to the core and, already, my tongue was flexing in preparation.

I had made the transition from reluctance to willing supplicant but now I was frustrated in my endeavour. As I licked at the heart of her rosette it seemed impossibly tight but she whispered tersely.

"Do it!"

I spread my fingers across her cheeks and, pressing my mouth as closely as I could, I gave one final push with my aching tongue. For a second or two it seemed forlorn but then I felt her relax under my hands and I was welcomed in.