Defusing A Bomb

"Why don't you sit up here and let me do some work?"

I looked at her blankly and she continued.

"Look, I know it's not what you asked for but I promise you I'm good, very good; it's what I'm usually paid for and I'm being paid very generously for today's work."

! did not know what to say. She did not have to offer and I was touched by her kindness.

She smiled at me conspiratorially.

"I promise you. You'll never want a man again."

For a few seconds I almost said yes but I knew if I did it would constitute some form of admission; another line would have been crossed. I got up and thanked her before offering her the use of the bathroom.

When I finally closed the front door behind her it was with a secret tear in my eye.

Chapter 2

I waited until the next morning before phoning in and I was put straight through to Dr. Swan.

She had been against the plan from the outset but she was subject to the same discipline as I was. She sounded genuinely worried.

"How did it go?"

"As well as could be expected."

"Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine. I want to move to phase two as soon as possible."

"That wouldn't be a good idea; I would counsel against it."

I paused before I spoke again.

"Look, if I don't do it now, today, I don't think I can go through with it."

"If that's how you feel then I think it's important that you come in and see me. You need time to reflect. If you rush at this out of some misguided sense of loyalty you could do yourself lasting damage. You know my view. You've already done more than enough and the army owes you a huge debt of gratitude. They can find someone else to take this on."

I was touched by her concern but I snapped at her.

"I've taken the first step. Now I'm going to see it through. Get them to e-mail me the details."

I put down the phone before she could attempt to dissuade me further and, not for the first time, I asked myself what the hell I was doing.

The e-mail arrived half an hour later and I gave an ironic smile as I read it through. I wondered who had been designated to do the research and just what they made of it.

The previous day I had felt the need to dress up to make myself attractive to another woman. Today was different. I dressed in jeans and trainers along with a plain jogging top.

The address was in a part of town that discouraged me from taking my car and so I set out in good time to take a bus. The journey seemed interminable and gave me far too much time to think but once I got off the house was easy to find.

It was an area of high rise social housing but local, liberal minded, politicians were insisting on a policy of building traditional homes. The house I wanted was one such set at the end of a relatively new terrace.

I rang the doorbell, instinctively looking around as I did so.

"You're late whitey."

The woman standing in the doorway nearly filled it. She was about my height but probably weighed half as much again although the loose fitting house coat that she wore made it hard to tell.

I knew I was a little early but I did not check my watch neither did I argue. She turned and walked back inside.

"Are you just gonna stand there."

I followed her in and was relieved to see that the house was well kept. Some of the furniture was past its best but everything looked clean and tidy. The living room benefited from a set of patio doors which let on to a small paved yard filled with planters.

Even with the natural light it was hard to tell her age; mid thirties perhaps. There were some lines in her face but her brown eyes sparkled with life. Judging by her skin colour, and the few words she had spoken, I guessed that she originally hailed from the West Indies.

As I made my appraisal she looked me up and down making an evaluation of her own.

"De money first."

I had still not said a word but I counted out the agreed sum into her hand. She folded the notes and slipped them into the pocket of her house coat.

"You got a pretty mouth whitey. I hope you know how to use it."

I felt my hackles rise but I fought it down. She, unlike Selina, had not been primed. As far as she knew I was just a regular client.

"I tink you should be on your knees."

I dropped to the floor, grateful for the thick rug, but, even now, I was contemplating not going through with it.

There were no niceties. She simply began to unfasten the buttons of her coat.

"Yam much younger dan de usual girls."

I do not know why but I got the impression that she was exaggerating her accent but then I suppose it is what her clients expected. Having undone half of her buttons she paused.

"Let me see those titties."

I slipped my top off to reveal that I had not bothered with a bra.

"De good Lord not seen fit to bless you."

It was another calculated insult. I am proud of what I have and I had never had any complaints. My reaction was to kneel straight backed and unabashed but it is not what she would have expected of me. Instead, I slumped my shoulders and let my head drop a little.

"Now this is a real pair..."

She finished undoing the buttons and allowed the housecoat to fall open. Her breasts were held in place by an impressive red bra which she then struggled to unfasten.

I guess that, once upon a time, her breasts would have been considered spectacular. They were certainly large enough but gravity had begun to rob them of pride. They now had a decided droop and even the nipples looked liked brown-faced Dali clocks.

She gave me a moment to feast on the view and then she shucked off the coat altogether. Standing in just a pair of red pants she looked imposing. She was wide hipped with heavy thighs but slim calves suggested that she had looked better in her day.

She still had something of a waist but a clearly defined crease marked the slight overhang of her belly. She stood, for a few seconds, with hands on hips and I wondered if I was expected to say something.

I decided to remain silent and let her dictate events. She was unfazed and, just a little awkwardly, she removed her pants.

"So what's it to be? You want a bit of breast or you goin' straight for de brown meat?"

As she said it she rubbed a hand over her sex which lay deep between her thighs.

I felt my stomach begin to rise and I took a deep breath. I wanted to be told what to do; I did not want to be confronted with choices but, at the finish, pragmatism won out. I wanted it over with as soon as possible.

She stepped towards me, until we were just inches apart, and stood with her legs slightly apart.

Things had seemed bad enough with Selina but this was something of a different order. It was sex in the raw and it was a trial that I had to undertake if I was to ultimately succeed.

If Selina was light then this was darkness. This close to I could see the fine, almost invisible, line of hair which trailed from her navel and them slowly spread over the plane of her sex which was covered in a coarse black undergrowth.

It was a growth that could not be contained and it extended outwards to cling to her upper thighs. It was frightening in itself but there, in the midst of it, was the feral carnality of her sex.

She had long, plump, labia that seemed to be unsuccessfully reaching up through the canopy and, having failed, they had fallen back on themselves peeling apart a little to reveal a raw, vulnerable, pinkness.

"Momma's waitin' princess."

I would have been happy to make her wait forever. Were there really women who wanted this? The research showed that she had a select list of clients; all white society women, some whose names would raise an eyebrow. What possessed these privileged, moneyed, aristocrats to make their way to this seedy backwater simply to abase themselves?

I closed my eyes and leaned forward. I could smell lavender, a reminder of the soap that my grandmother always used, but then it was something else a smell from the earth and not the flower.

I wondered if she was in any way engaged with what she did, or if she simply played it out, and now I knew. The familiar scent rose from her thickly.

"I'm cookin'. Can you smell that?"

She smelt little different to Selina but my mind must have being playing tricks. Yesterday had been a light Beaujolais and today seemed like an oak-aged Bordeaux.

Had she been looking forward to this? Had the prospect of fresh blood been enough to turn her on long before I arrived?

I was reluctant to use my tongue but I knew it must be done. I shivered inwardly as I made a first fleeting contact with the spongy nest of curls. That slight disturbance was enough to waft a fresh draught of enriched air but I pushed through until I found her core.

"Greedy, greedy. Your first taste of black pussy? It be something you'll be remembrin' a long, long, time. You'll be back to see momma, you'll see."

Right then I hated her but how was she to know my ulterior motive? I licked at her labia but it was difficult as the untamed curls irritated my face. I tried to find a rhythm, anything to distract me, but she kept to her role.

"No decent black girl degrade 'erself like dis but you whities was made for it."

I ignored her as best I could, the whole point of this was to not let her get under my skin, but, perversely, the one way to do that was to lick her more tenderly.

It was hot work. The pillars of her thighs radiated heat and my face was buried in a natural quilt but, over the next quarter of an hour, I licked slow and deep whilst she continued to toss out insults.

She was not lubricating as freely as Selina, which I took as a blessing, but I was disturbed to find that, without thinking, I was actually seeking out her taste.

I mentally shook myself to clear my head and then changed my position slightly. She was a little quieter now and I sensed the balance of power shifting.

"Oh yes...you sweet bitch...you know 'ow to make momma feel good."

Her labia resisted me as I eased upwards but her clitoris was not hard to find.

It was not large but was surprisingly firm and felt like a small marble under my tongue. I began to lick at it but obviously not firmly enough for her liking.

With a sudden movement she took a step forward and pressed my head backwards. I found myself bent beneath her staring up at the undersides of her pendulous breasts.

"Come to momma...lick me you little bitch."

She said it sotto voce, almost to herself, and cupped a hand behind my head just to make sure I understood. I was left with very little movement and it was now more a case of her rubbing her clitoris on the flat of my tongue.

All the aches and pains of the day before were immediately revisited and I began to regret my rash decision. I prayed that she would come but she was not going to be hurried. She worked herself against my mouth abrading my face with her damp pubis in the process.

She began to grunt, there was no other word for it, and then leaned forward over me. My head was pressed into the folds of her belly and breathing became difficult but the shuddering of her bulk told me that she had started to come.

It was a long climax which ebbed and flowed but then it was over as quickly as it had started. She let me go and stepped away to stand with her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

"You done wore me out girl"

I remained on my knees and was left looking at the broad spread of her backside. I could imagine her in tight jeans in years past, a prized booty, but no longer. Firm muscle was now comforted by a layer of fat that was there to stay.

"Make some tea. You'll find the t'ings in de kitchen."

I was anxious to leave but a drink sounded inviting; the taste of her was still cloying in my mouth. I reached for my discarded top but she forestalled me.

"Leave it. We ain't finished yet. You's goin' to get value for your money."

I seethed; nothing could be worth this but I clamed down and told myself that this was simply training and I had had to endure much worse.

The kitchen was as neat and clean as the rest of the house. Tea, milk and sugar along with two cups were set neatly on a tray. To begin with I rinsed my mouth straight from the tap and only then made tea in a quaint china teapot.

I carried out the tray and found her sitting on the sofa. She had slipped the house coat back over her shoulders but she had made no attempt to do it up.

"Leave de tray. You take yours to de kitchen."

I almost laughed as I imagined her regular clients relegated to scullery maids but a few more minutes to myself came as a relief. I sat at the small dining table and only as I sipped at my tea did I realise just how sore my tongue had become.

I had half finished when my reverie was disturbed.

"Get yourself out here."

She had set her cup aside and was sat with her legs splayed; but for the housecoat she could have been an Amazonian princess.

"Okay lady, this time me want it slow and tender...come and worship me."

It took huge strength of will to go back to my knees again. Her sex was fully relaxed and a dribble of moisture had escaped her to stain the sofa. As I got closer I could smell her again but now it was a little riper and I realised that there was of the faint hint of stale perspiration.

As I applied my weary tongue I was dismayed by the cold dampness of her pubis but I pressed on and sought out the warmth between her labia.

The parallels between this encounter and my experience with Selina were obvious but I so wished that it was the young blonde that was in front of me now.

She laid back and indolently stroked her own nipples as, for something approaching half an hour, I was expected to minister to her. For some of that time I zoned out but she immediately picked up on my perceived lack of application and admonished me.

In the distance I could hear the gentle rush of passing traffic but the room itself was so quiet that I could hear every lick of my own tongue as it rasped through her curls mocked by the particularly loud ticking of a mantel clock which seemed to slow down time.

Her second climax was as lazy as she was. She gave a deep sigh and only a welling of moisture signalled that she had, at last, had enough.

"A new pet Auntie?"

I almost fell off balance as I spun round to see who had spoken. The young woman standing there could only have been eighteen or nineteen. She was wearing a smart grey business suit and holding a leather document wallet.

I could immediately see a family resemblance. She had a lighter complexion, and was elegantly slim but they shared the same mischievous eyes. If I was left in any doubt I only had to look at her breasts. They were enviably large and a pointer to what once might have been.

I tried to get up but a meaty hand on the top of my head held me in place.

"Claudine, what are you doing here at this time of the day?"

"I don't have any lectures this afternoon. You said that I could come by to borrow the suitcase."

"So I did, so I did."

Claudine spoke with a cultured accent, and it was noticeable that her Aunts West Indian twang had mysteriously melted away, but she seemed completely unfazed by my presence.

"Is she any good?"

"She's new to it. She'll get better, but at least she's willing."

They were talking about me as though I was not in the room and I found that I resented this more than anything that had happened to that point.

"Why don't you give her a try?"

Claudine looked at her watch before replying.

"I shouldn't really, I'm meeting friends...well perhaps just a quick one."

Her audacity left me dumbstruck but she had already put down her folder and was reaching for the button at her hip. The skirt was a kilt style and she unwound it before placing it carefully over the back of the chair.

My head was spinning, as I tried to get a grip on reality, but I could not fail to notice her legs. She was not wearing hose and they had the lean suppleness of youth.

She saw me looking and gave a knowing smle. She stood for a moment before reaching for her cream coloured panties and slipping them off over her high heels.

Now that she was exposed I saw that she was completely shaved, and, on looking back, I wonder if it was this that tipped the scales.

She sat down next to her aunt, completely unashamed, and even took hold of her hand to give it a gentle squeeze.

"Thanks auntie. This will warm me up nicely. I'm meeting Derren later."

"Get you girl. If you ever grow tired of that young man you send him right round to me."

This suggestion that I was simply an adjunct, a glorified masturbation device, fired me with anger but this was, after all, what it was all about.

"Show Claudine what you can do."

Was I looking for an antidote to the nightmare that was her aunt? I could not say. I knelt between the younger woman's legs aware of her looking down at me.

She rubbed a hand over her sex and I began to suspect that she had been watching us for longer than I thought. She was aroused from the outset and her sex opened with hardly any coaxing.

Her labia were nicely symmetrical, dark at the tips but shading almost to gray before the sunburst of the moist interior. They drew the eye upwards to the point at which they formed a perfect cowl for the plump prominence of her clitoris.

I began to lick, working first to the left and then to the right, opening her even wider, and only then did I apply myself to the succulent centre. For so it felt; the taste was so clean, so fresh; dare I say it? so youthful after the trials of her aunt.

Common sense told me that, essentially, the taste was the same so why then was I so enthusiastic. I was lapping her whole sex with the flat of my tongue and she was squirming under the assault.

"Oh shit! Yes!"

The expletive seemed incongruous when expressed in her cultured tone but she lifted herself slightly from the sofa encouraging me to go deeper.

I duly obliged and we remained locked together whilst I flexed my tongue inside her. For a few moments I was lost in a warm, wet, world of my own. It was strangely comforting but at the same time frightening. I could not shake the feeling that I was, in some way, fulfilling a desire of my own as much as hers.

I was so absorbed that I missed the onset of her climax, and for a second I thought she had given a cry of pain, but her body arched pressing almost painfully against my face.

I closed my mouth over her sex and found myself scooping my tongue inside her. I was rewarded with a fresh outpouring but the tip of my tongue had found a hidden trigger. She acted as if charged with electricity, her body shaking almost uncontrollably. I kept my tongue there as best I good trying to ride with her.

Her orgasm seemed never ending and, through it all, I felt a twinge of envy. When, at last, she could take no more she slumped leadenly on the sofa but I did not stop licking. All my own aches and pains were forgotten as I slipped free only to alight upon her clitoris.

It was reluctant to shed its cloak but I would not be denied. I worked the tip of my tongue within and applied a gentle circular pressure. At first she seemed not to notice, as she bathed in a warm afterglow, but, slowly but surely, a new wave of pleasure began to rise.

To begin with she did not have the strength to embrace it but I would not take no for an answer. Her body began to writhe; at first in an effort to escape but, as it slowly took hold she began to work with me and I felt the firm bud swelling under my tongue.

I put my arms under her thighs and lifted them on to my shoulders. She seemed taken by surprise but she began to gently squeeze at the sides of my head. In the warm enclosure all sound was lost but it was a welcoming stillness.

Her second climax was not long in coming but it was a far more gentle affair. Nevertheless, I carried on licking bearing her upwards even when she wanted rest.