Reflections

Fun in Mayfair

Author's Note

This is a work of fiction, but part of it is based on an actual event. Which bit and whether that event happened to me or someone else, I'm not saying...

*****

She smiled back at me from the full length mirror. Long blonde hair, tied back to prevent it falling across her face. Light blue-green eyes beneath a thin line of fair eyebrows. Slender nose and full lips, enhanced with a crimson gloss. Lips set in that knowing, expectant smile.

My eyes travel down to her breasts. Small, but perfectly formed. Large, dark nipples contrasting with the creamy whiteness of her skin. She runs her hands over her breasts, fingertips brushing across those sensitive buds which react immediately, blossoming out of the skin. I feel a corresponding tingling as she does it.

Her hands move down over the flatness of her belly, wiping sideways to caress her hips and bottom, that nice, firm, rounded bottom that is out of sight from here. As I look at the soft, fair patch of down neatly trimmed above her clean-shaven pussy one of her hands reaches down to run her fingers through it. I see her breasts rise and fall as she breathes deeply in anticipation. Her finger-tips linger at the top of her slit, pausing, tempting, teasing.

She smiles back at me and lightly runs a single finger along the length of her slit before tossing her head and turning away.

I am proud of my body. Long hours in the gym, care and attention to my diet and forty or fifty miles run every week have paid off. You don't get to look as good as this without putting in the effort!

Now, I have to decide what to wear. It needs to be simple and sophisticated. That 'Little Black Dress' may be a cliché, but it became one for a reason. The right dress can be alluring and enticing, exciting without revealing. Thepossibility of revelation can be more exciting that the actuality. Sophisticated women know this instinctually.

I turn to the rail in my dressing room and run my fingers through the selection hanging there. I pause at one and smile. This is right. This is the one. Figure-hugging silk in a plain black, dark as midnight. A single strap over the left shoulder and passing under the right arm. The rest of the back left bare, the line of the dress plunging in a deep vee below the waist line as the dress wraps around my hips and falls to the floor, flaring out slightly below knee level. On the right hand side the dress is slit all the way from the floor to a point level with my pussy. Tantalising, without revealing.

There is only one thing to wear under a dress like this. Perfume. Just perfume.

Marilyn may have preferred Chanel No. 5, but today I choose Christian Dior - J'adore L'Or. The sensual, almost phallic, bottle glows golden in my hands. I pull the stopper, releasing the mouth-watering vanilla and jasmine aroma into the room. I let a drop fall onto a small linen pad and wipe it around my throat, over my breasts and across my belly. Harry will appreciate that when he undresses me later tonight.

I step into the dress and pull it up over my hips, settling the shoulder strap in place and adjusting the sides. A pair of strap-up sandals and a sheer black shawl completed my wardrobe. There. Lots of blemish-free skin, but not a hint of anything improper. Harry will love it.

Harry. Am I his conquest, or was he mine? We met at the theatre just three weeks ago. I had gone with a girlfriend and had literally bumped into him in the bar during the intermission. He had apologised profusely, even though it wasn't his fault, and insisted on replacing the drink I had spilled. Jodi, my friend, had disappeared somewhere so we sat together discussing the play, which wasn't brilliant, and getting to know each other. When the bell rang for the end of the interval we stayed in the bar until it was too late to go back to our seats without disturbing people. Instead, we went to a wine bar for the rest of the evening.

By the time Harry had taken me home in a cab I was ready to let him come inside and stay the night - something I had never before done on a first date. Harry declined, very gently, and just kissed me goodnight. The kiss itself was almost as enjoyable as sex — exciting, arousing and memorable. It just didn't last long enough.

Harry called me the next morning and we arranged to meet again that evening. We met most evenings after that but it was almost a week before Harry came into my bed.

The sex was fantastic. Harry was a considerate, gentle, careful lover. I rarely had fewer than two or three orgasms with Harry as he invariably took his time to make sure I was fully satisfied before he finished himself. He was adventurous too, introducing me to the thrill of a little light bondage. That was something I had never tried before, never thought of trying but, feeling safe and secure with Harry, I had found that having gently restricted movement whilst he concentrated on pleasuring me was incredibly exciting and enjoyable.

The first time he'd done this he'd gently, but firmly, tied my hands behind my back with a dressing gown cord. He'd then started to kiss me all over, nibbling and sucking on my breasts and nipples, nuzzling at my belly button, licking and sucking at my pussy and nibbling at my clit. Being teased and pleasured like this without being able to respond and touch him had driven me crazy! Time and again he'd brought me to the brink of orgasm and then backed off, leaving me begging for more. Eventually, after about thirty or forty minutes of this teasing he'd tied my feet together at the ankles and, bending me face down over the edge of the bed, had entered into me from behind. He'd had such control over me, setting the pace and the penetration himself. I'd been completely at his mercy and forced into a totally passive role.

My orgasm, when he'd finally allowed me to have one, had been shattering. I had been led to the point of release then let down so many times that when I felt the tension building one more time I was nearly crying in frustration and need. His gentle voice had talked sexily into my ear as he thrust into me; the pressure of his cock inside me, filling me, stretching me; his hands massaging my back, my buttocks, reaching round to tease my nipples; these sensations had brought me again to the point where I was expecting him to slow things down once more. Instead, he had steadily increased his pace, thrusting into me hard and deep.

The dams inside me, which had been pent up for so long, had finally burst. I'd cried out, I'd wailed, I'd shouted. My words had been incoherent as the pleasure had taken over. I may even have passed out, I'm not sure. When I had become aware of myself and my surroundings again, Harry's cock had been still inside me, pulsing gently, waiting until I was ready again.

He'd started to thrust into me again, a slow steady rhythm, but it had been too much, I had been too sensitive. I had tried to pull away but was still restrained. I had had to beg him to stop, which he did. He'd pulled me up into a sitting position but, instead of releasing me as I'd expected, knelt in front of me on the bed and pushed his cock into my face until I'd started to suck him off. Again, the restraints had had their effect. With my legs tied together and my arms behind my back I'd still been held in a submissive role, even though I'd been sucking him off. The inability to use my hands had been strange, but exciting. When he'd finally pulled back and sprayed his cum over my throat and breasts, I'd had no choice but to sit there and let it drip off my nipples and run down my belly.

I felt a tingling in my belly as I reminisced over that very memorable occasion. A dampness in my groin made me realise that I had better change the direction of my thoughts. A tight, black silk dress and no underwear was not the place to start getting aroused and wet! I glanced at the clock, wondering where Harry was, but found that he was not yet late. It was still two minutes off the agreed time. I was just beginning to wonder what to do next when the doorbell rang. Harry was here! With an excited fluttering in my stomach, just like a schoolgirl on her first date, I rushed to let him in.

•••

We took a taxi into Mayfair, stopping first for cocktails at '34', a delightful place on Grosvenor Street. Harry, who had already complimented me on my appearance, couldn't take his eyes of me. I could tell that he was getting aroused and I admit I teased him a little, emphasising my figure in the way I moved and leant against him. It was quite obvious that I was naked underneath the dress and he knew it! I could see the lust building, in his eyes, his voice, his touch.

After a couple of drinks Harry called a cab to take us to the restaurant. It wasn't only his eyes that couldn't keep off me now, it was his hands as well! He kept gently touching, running his fingers down my bare back (that gave me goosebumps!), caressing my bottom, touching my thigh through the slit in the dress. When he 'accidentally' brushed against my breasts, my nipples tingled and reacted by standing up, showing clearly through the black silk. I was as turned on as Harry was!

We arrived safely at the restaurant but it was fortunate that it was only a two minute ride or else I think I would have been ravished in the back before we got there. I'm not so sure I would have minded either. C-London is a very high class restaurant and thoroughly deserves its excellent reputation. During the meal we were concentrating on the food and fine wine and a little less on each other's bodies, so we had a chance to slow things down a bit.

The food was heavenly, I had an Artichoke Salad and Fillet of Sole. Harry a Salmon appetizer and Beef Carpaccio to follow. Several glasses of wine on top of the cocktails earlier left us both very relaxed and a little giddy. We took our time and it was nearly midnight before we left the restaurant, strolling a short way down Grosvenor street and into Grosvenor Square. The square was deserted at this time of night, apart from a few couples strolling through the trees, as we were.

The wine and the cool air were making my head spin so we found a wooden bench a little way from Roosevelt's statue and sat down. I immediately put my arms around Harry and started to kiss him. He responded passionately, our tongues entwining and teasing each other. He growled and pulled away, biting at my lower lip as he did.

"I've been wanting to get you out of that dress since the moment you opened the door," he murmured to me, his voice husky with desire.

"Well," I giggled, "you'll have to wait until we get home!"

"I don't see why," he answered, reaching up and taking my hands from around his neck.

I was surprised to feel something hard and cold click into place around my right wrist. I pulled it back and looked at it in surprise. "Handcuffs?" I was baffled, the wine making my thoughts slow.

Harry just chuckled and stretched out my arm, fastening the handcuffs to the back of the bench a couple of feet off to the side. I was so surprised and confused that I offered little resistance.

"What...?" I didn't understand what was happening.

Harry took my other hand in his, caressing it, reassuring me. "It's Ok," he whispered and kissed me gently.

I relaxed into his kiss until I involuntarily tried to put my arms around him and remembered I couldn't move my left arm. I giggled, "What do you think you are doing?" I couldn't believe what I thought he was planning.

"Getting you out of that dress." His answer was simple and direct. At the same time, he slipped the strap of the dress off my shoulder and off my left arm. The dress dropped, exposing my breasts.

"Harry!" I gasped, clutching at my top with my free hand.

Harry just smiled again and leant in to kiss me. I didn't respond to him this time, pulling at the handcuffs with my right hand, my left hand firmly clutching my dress across my chest. I was almost in panic.

Click.

A second handcuff appeared on my left wrist. Harry gently, but firmly, pulled my arm across and away from my chest, stretching it out to the other side of me. Click. I was now held firmly on the bench, arms stretched out on either side, unable to stand, unable to do anything. My dress fell away again, and I was naked and exposed from the waist up.

"Harry!" Fear and panic were setting in properly now.

Harry tried to kiss me again, but I shook my head, refusing him. Instead, he cupped my left breast, rubbing the nipple with his fingers and leaned down to suckle on my right breast, nibbling at my nipple and teasing it with his tongue. I was helpless to resist. I pulled against the handcuffs for a moment or two, but to no avail. Harry continued with his attentions to my breasts, and I could feel myself becoming aroused once again. My nipples were tingling and swelling up into hard points, standing proud at least a half inch from my breasts. In spite of my fears, I groaned involuntarily.

Harry raised his head to kiss me again. This time, I let him. I was starting to enjoy the thrill of my predicament. The fear was still present, but the panic had left me. I trusted Harry, he wasn't going to let anything bad happen, but the fear of discovery was still there.

"What if someone comes?" I asked, breathlessly.

"Oh, someone will be 'coming'," he answered, with a leer, "I guarantee it!"

"That's not what I meant!" I pulled against the handcuffs again. "Someone will see us!"

"Don't worry," he answered, "the park is deserted. Almost." I looked round in a sudden panic. Nobody was in sight. "If anyone comes, I'll put your shawl over your shoulders, and they won't know a thing."

With that, he started to work on my breasts again and I leaned back to enjoy it. I felt his hand slip into the thigh slit in my dress and his fingers nestled into the soft hair above my pussy.

"Not even a thong?" he murmured. "I wasn't sure..."

His fingers slipped lower, gently playing with and teasing my hairless pussy lips. I opened my thighs wider, to give him easier access as I felt a sudden wash of wetness inside me.

I was starting to breathe heavily, desire overtaking fear, but I was powerless to join in, except to passively lie back and enjoy the sensations he was causing. His fingers continued to play with my pussy, now rubbing along my slit and gently parting my pussy lips. More wetness was flooding my insides now and I lay back and closed my eyes. My nipples were burning, my pussy was tingling, my insides were turned to water.

Suddenly, his fingers dipped down and thrust into me, at the same time, his thumb found the hard little button of my clit and rubbed against it. I gasped out loud as waves of pleasure pulsed through me. I pushed my thighs as wide apart as my dress would let me, letting him fill my pussy with two fingers, pushing deep into me while still his thumb rubbed at my clit and his teeth nibbled at my nipples. I groaned again, feeling my orgasm starting deep inside me. I lifted my hips, pushing my pussy up to meet his hands and I started to pant.

Suddenly, he stopped. His hand went away and he raised his head from my breast. He looked down at me, exposed and helpless, wanting him, needing him.

"Nooo! Don't stop...," I pleaded with him, “please...!"

He smiled down at me, then moving suddenly, wrapped his hands around my waist and, lifting me up, pulled the dress over my buttocks and let it drop to the floor.

"Wait!" The panic returned. I was now stark naked, handcuffed to a bench in a public park! "You can't..."

"What happened to 'Don't stop'?" He grinned at me as he asked it.

He scooped up my dress and draped it over the back of the bench. Then, gently, he pulled my thighs apart and knelt between them as I tugged at the handcuffs, wanting to cover myself up.

Kissing my belly, he smiled up at me. "Hmmm..." he said, "vanilla. Nice enough to eat!"

"Christian Dior," I gasped as he moved down, nuzzling into my pubic hair. I yelped and jumped as he ran his tongue up the length of my slit and licked my clit. He responded by holding onto my bottom and pulling me in towards him while he licked and sucked at my pussy and teased and nibbled on my clit.

I was moaning, gasping and panting. I wanted to hold onto his head, but couldn't move my arms. I was helpless to stop him doing exactly what he wanted. Exactly what I wanted too.

I felt my orgasm starting and I thrust my pussy into his mouth, a low growl starting in the back of my throat. Immediately, he pulled away and I was thrusting up against nothing but cool midnight air.

"Noo...," I whined, squirming against the restraints, wanting him, wanting release.

He stood over me, looking at me spread-eagled there, naked, wet, desperate. Slowly, ever so slowly, without taking his eyes off me for a second, he unfastened the belt from his trousers and, one by one, the buttons of his fly. He pushed his pants down just far enough to let his cock spring out, hard, erect and firm. It was a lovely cock, longer than average, thick and heavy round the shaft and, though not circumcised, the head was fully exposed and glistening wet with pre-cum.

Still not taking his eyes from me he started to rub it gently up and down. With a smile, he asked, "what shall we do next? Shall I fuck you now...?"

"Yes, yes!" I gasped, pushing my pussy up towards him.

"...or, shall I let you suck it?"

"Yes, yes!" I gasped again. Anything. He could do anything...

Kneeling again in front of me, he rubbed the tip of his cock against my pussy. It slid easily along the wetness of my slit and he rubbed it up against my clitoris, making me gasp once again. I tried to push up against him, seeking a release for my orgasm. If my hands had been free, I would have rubbed myself off for sure, but I was helpless.

Pulling back away from my thrusting, he paused again, then with one swift thrust he buried himself deep within me. The sudden shock of him, the heat of him, the way he stretched me and filled me, all these triggered the orgasm I'd been craving and I wailed out loud as I went into a spasm of pleasure. My legs wrapped around him and my bottom arched up off the bench as my pussy muscles clamped down on him, holding him, squeezing him.

He remained motionless as I squirmed and thrashed around under him until the peak of my orgasm had passed and I lay back again. Then he started a steady rhythm, thrusting into me and making me gasp with each stroke. He reached out with one hand, cupping my breast and pulling on the nipple. The other hand slid under my bottom and pulled me up to meet his thrusts. Steadily, he increased the pace of his thrusting, beads of sweat forming on his brow and he started to make little grunting sounds as he pushed into me.

I could feel another orgasm building, a tightness and pressure in my pussy that was more than the physical presence of his cock inside me. He was pounding into me hard and fast now, and a low growl started in my throat as the pressure built up.

Suddenly, he pulled away again, leaving me gasping for more. He stood before me, offering his cock to my mouth and I eagerly leaned forward to take it, sucking it into my mouth and swallowing it as deep as I could manage. He groaned again and, holding my head against him with one hand, pulling on my breast and nipple with the other, he started to thrust into my mouth until I was almost gagging. I wasn't able to pull away or hold him off as he fucked my mouth. Just as I thought he was about to come he pulled away again, gasping, eyes glazed. He stood there for a moment, his cock standing rigid between us, glistening with my juices and saliva, twitching and pulsing.

We watched each other wordlessly, panting for a minute or so. Then, kneeling before me again, he gently slid that lovely cock into me again and started to fuck me once again. Almost immediately I felt my orgasm building again and, from the urgency with which he was pumping into me, he wasn't going to stop again.