Call Girl

by Landon Dixon

  Still he kissed her. Long after. Him spent, her leaking onto the rug. He kissed her shoulders, her back and bottom. Lightly, he bit the rounded cheeks.

  ‘Ouch!’ she cried in mock pain. ‘That was solovely…’ She rolled over lazily on to her back, her breasts looking up at him – he unable to see them. She felt a brief sadness. Such a cruel handicap. Then admiration. ‘How do you do it, how do you know exactlywhat a woman wants?’ He just smiled. She looked deeper into his sightless, sensitive face. She reached up to touch it as he had first touched hers…

  Then she heard something. Someone nearby! ‘Hey!’ she almost screamed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Someone’s here!’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I heard something – behind us.’ She frowned, unsure.

  ‘Don’t worry, that would be Bess, my guide-dog.’

  She relaxed, but she still hated the idea of being watched while making love (she corrected herself – while fucking). ‘You have a guide-dog?’

  ‘Of course. She helps me out and about. I don’t need to use her much inside the house where I know where everything is.’

  ‘But I haven’t seen her around.’

  ‘No, you wouldn’t. She’s pretty shy of strangers. She keeps well out of the way. Maybe when you’ve been here a few times she’ll come out and make friends with you. My models get on very well with her after the initial surprise.’

  ‘What surprise?’

  ‘Well, she’s an unusual breed for a guide dog…’ that enigmatic smile again. ‘Would you like to see her?’ He called out ‘Bess! Come here Bess!’ A sharp whine sounded from just outside the studio door.

  ‘No, she’s not ready to meet you yet – maybe next time; I won’t force her. Look, can you come back same time tomorrow? I have to take Bess out for a walk.’

  She was both peeved and intrigued. Her curiosity overwhelmed her. Driving just a short distance, she parked and watched for him to come out with his dog. Nothing. Maybe they’d walk in that huge garden of his.

  It was easy to work around to the back, but not so easy to see in. She pushed her way into the high, scratchy hedge and finally managed to get a view of the steps leading down to the lawn from the studio.

  Two minutes later she saw movement behind reflections on the glass studio door. It was opening. A beautiful, completely naked young woman led the blind man carefully down the steep steps. It had to be the other model he still used sometimes – the petite one! She felt a strong surge of jealousy at the sight of them together. Then she noticed the collar around her neck. They frolicked around the lawn a little. She mostly ran, but occasionally dropped to all fours when he was close, allowing him to pat her like a dog. She even squatted down to pee profusely on the lawn.

  The sight sent a flood of conflicting emotions through her, but jealousy and anger rose above them all. Before she knew it she’d burst right though the hedge, tearing the front of her dress wide-open in the process. She didn’t care. ‘You perverted bastards!’ she shouted like a tart. ‘You should be fucking locked up!’

  ‘Angel?’

  She ignored him, focusing on the girl who covered her breasts in fright. ‘And you, you little bitch – I suppose you saw everything when we were fucking in the corner? How dare you watch me!’ The girl whined her fear but stayed down at his side. He held her collar.

  ‘Leave her out of this!’ He calmed his powerful voice. ‘Bess and I have an unusual relationship, sure. I wasn’t hiding her from you: I was going to show her to you, remember? And didn’t you see my car in the drive? I thought you might have worked thatout. A blind man can’t drive any more than his dog can. She drives me around.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she shouted, ‘and you fuckher around in return; all around the house, I bet!’

  Turning on her heel she fought her way back through the hedge, leaving most of her dress behind.

  He answered the door. ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s me.’

  His made his voice hard. ‘Well?’

  ‘I’m sosorry. I was well out of order. I was just so angry when I thought of her watching me being so uninhibited with you, asking for it like that. I’ve never done anything remotely like that before. I could only do it because you… I thought no one could see me.’

  ‘Are you coming in?’

  ‘Yes. I want to apologise for what I said to her – and you.’

  After he let her in, he touched her face to read her expression. She pressed against him and he was soon fondling her free breasts through the thin sweater. His body began to respond strongly. She smelt different. There was a pleasant leathery smell. ‘You’ve missed something,’ she said smugly. He felt over her again. She was wearing a studded collar around her neck.

  ‘Does this mean…’

  His need for her suddenly became urgent.

  ‘It does. I’m going to be a completebitch this time.’

  Birthday Treat

  by Alex de Kok

  The curve of the female bottom is one of the loveliest curves in nature, and Harry was happy to see it. He glanced across again, taking advantage of the fact that she was looking away from him to adjust the press of his half-hard prick against his jeans. Even on a garden kneeler, bent over a flower bed, Janet Blythe was a very attractive woman. The fact that he was only nineteen and she thirty-two didn’t alter that fact, it only made it just about impossible that anything would ever happen between them. Nothing, that is, except what seemed to be a genuine friendship.

  In baggy shorts and a loose T-shirt, Janet was working in the flower bed, dead-heading her roses. He looked again, but there was no panty line to be seen. No panties, or was she wearing a thong? His prick twitched, and he grinned to himself. Think pure thoughts, Harry! Yeah, right. With a woman like Janet Blythe around, a chance somewhere between zero and infinitesimal. But he could dream…

  ‘Harry?’

  Reality intruded with a mental thud. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Would you bring that rubbish bag across, please?’

  ‘Sure.’ He picked up the bag and took it across to where she was kneeling. There was a pile of dead roses beside her.

  ‘Hold the bag open, and I’ll put these in. No, I’ll do it,’ she said as he reached for the flower heads. ‘I’ve got gloves on and there may be some thorns.’

  ‘Okay.’ He held the bag open for her as she lifted a double handful of flower heads, glancing down to make sure he had the bag positioned right. His breath caught in his throat. Her loose T-shirt had fallen away as she leaned forward, and he could see down into it, see the sensuous cleft between her breasts, breasts that seemed unsupported by any bra, breasts that he could see almost down to the nipple. Lovely breasts: lovely enough to cause a stiffening in his pants.

  ‘Harry?’

  He dragged his attention back to the here-and-now. ‘Sorry,’ he said, feeling the heat of his face as she stared up at him, her flushed pinkness probably matching his own. ‘I was miles away.’

  ‘It’s okay, I think I’m finished here. How about you?’ Her smile seemed automatic, and mentally he kicked himself. Idiot! Staring down her shirt.

  ‘Just need to put the mower back in the shed,’ he said, relieved to hear the normality in his tone. ‘The cuttings are in the compost bin.’

  ‘Good man. Will you put these in the shed, too? I’ll go and put the kettle on. Come into the kitchen when you’ve put them away. What would you prefer? Tea or coffee?’

  ‘Tea, please.’

  ‘Ready in five. See you in the kitchen.’

  Putting the mower, the secateurs and the rake away only took him a moment or two. Mentally he kicked himself, but a rueful smile crept onto his face. Caught ogling her, yes, but by God, those tits were worth an ogle! When he went into the kitchen, Janet was just pouring the water into the pot.

  ‘Wash your hands, Harry, and the tea will be ready. No milk, that right?’

  ‘Please.’ He busied himself washing and drying his hands, then turned to her and took a deep
breath. ‘I want to apologise.’

  ‘For what? Peering down my shirt?’ She smiled. ‘It’s me who should apologise to you, Harry. I should have known my top was too loose.’

  ‘Even so, it was rude, and I’m sorry.’

  She shook her head. ‘Say no more, Harry. You’re a teenage male and I’d be amazed, and probably wonder if you were normal, if you hadn’t peeped. Um, I bumped into your mum when I was shopping this morning.’

  ‘Yeah, she said she’d seen you.’

  ‘She told me it was your birthday yesterday. Why didn’t you say?’

  He shrugged, embarrassed. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I’d like to give you something. What would you like? Any suggestions?’

  You, he thought, and for a horrified moment he thought he’d said it aloud from the startled look on her face, but she merely said, ‘Well?’

  ‘I don’t know. Something small. A box of caramels or something.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. I don’t want you to waste your money on me. I feel guilty letting you pay me for the gardening help I give you as it is.’

  She laughed. ‘Don’t. My ex pays me substantial alimony. I think it’s hush money.’

  Harry grinned. ‘Got something on him?’

  Janet winked, touching her finger to her nose.

  Harry laughed. ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’

  ‘What about tomorrow?’

  ‘You normally help me from two until four on a Friday, but would you like to come around here about one, say, and I’ll cook you lunch as a post-birthday treat?’

  He was surprised, but pleased, and didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes, please. I’d like that.’

  ‘Don’t put your working clothes on. It’s a birthday treat, a paid holiday. We’ll have lunch, perhaps a glass of wine, and a chat. Maybe a swim. You okay with that?’

  ‘If you’re sure, I’d love to,’ he said, pleased at the thought of just the two of them at lunch together. Almost like a date. Then it hit him. ‘Swim? Where?’

  She laughed. ‘You didn’t know I had a pool, did you?’

  He shook his head. ‘Where? Surely I’d have seen it?’

  ‘You’ve never been in the back wing, have you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Drink your tea, and then I’ll show you.’

  They chatted idly for a few minutes while they drank their tea, then Janet stood. ‘Come on, I’ll show you the pool.’ She led him through the house, to the wing at the rear. He’d always thought it was bedrooms or something, but when she opened a door he realised it was an indoor pool. Small, maybe twenty-five feet by fifteen, but enough to swim a few strokes. A couple of screened-off alcoves for changing. ‘What do you think?’

  He grinned at her. ‘Great! Small, but fun.’ He bent, testing the water. ‘And cold.’

  She laughed. ‘The pool technician is due later this afternoon. I haven’t been using it as there’s a problem with the heater. The maintenance people have been waiting for a spare part to be delivered. They phoned this morning to say it’s in and they’re coming to fix it. It should be working by tomorrow, ready for our swim.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it.’ And to seeing you in a swimsuit, he thought. I hope it’s a bikini.

  ‘Me, too.’

  In bed that night, Harry thought back to the glimpse he’d had of Janet Blythe’s breasts, and her invitation. Holding the image he’d glimpsed in his mind, embellishing it with his imagination, he began to masturbate. Had he known that, just over a mile away, naked on her bed, Janet Blythe was thinking of him as she slid a dildo into her wetness, he’d have been even harder.

  Next day dawned fine and sunny. He had a lazy morning and just after twelve-thirty set out to walk the mile to Janet’s house. It was only ten to one when he got there but Janet opened the door to his ring and quickly ushered him inside. No shorts and T-shirt today, but a pretty summer dress, sleeveless.

  ‘Hi, Harry, come on through.’ She led the way into the living room and gestured him to a chair. ‘Here,’ she said, passing him a gift-wrapped parcel. ‘This is for you, from me.’

  He smiled when he saw the box of caramels, surprised when he saw what else was in the parcel. He looked across at her and she nodded.

  ‘I phoned your mum. She told me you’d got a digital camera, and the model, and I popped into the camera shop and asked what was the best idea in accessories. They said extra storage was never wrong, and nor was a good supply of rechargeable batteries. So.’ She gestured. ‘That’s what I got. Did you bring the camera with you?’

  He nodded. ‘It’s in my bag, along with my swimming trunks.’

  ‘Good. You can take my photograph later. I checked the pool earlier, and the heater has the water back up to temperature, in fact probably over-temperature, as I turned the thermostat up to make sure it was nice for us.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to it.’

  ‘In that case, it’s decision time. I decided that, as it was such a nice day, a cold meal wasn’t a bad idea, so I’ve done us a king prawn salad. We can have ice-cream for afters. We can eat any time, so would you like to swim before lunch, and maybe again afterwards, or do you want to eat now?’

  ‘I think you should choose. It’s your pool.’

  ‘In that case, we swim now. But before we do, there’s something I have to say.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Harry, I’ve had that pool for four years, and in that time, there have only been naked bodies in it. If you’re shy, and you want to put your trunks on, fine, I’ll put my swimsuit on. If you can bear the embarrassment of me seeing you naked – and, Harry, I’m not planning on looking away – if you can bear that, well, I’ll go naked, too.’

  He stared at her for a long, long, moment, then managed to nod. He tried to speak, failed, and cleared his throat. ‘Skinny-dip? Please?’

  ‘Want to see what you didn’t yesterday?’ Mute, he nodded, and she grinned. ‘Good! Come on, let’s see if I’ve still got what it takes.’

  ‘I’m sure you have,’ he managed to say, and she flashed a smile over her shoulder as she led him to the pool. ‘You use that side,’ she said, gesturing to an alcove, ‘and I’ll use the other.’

  He’d only managed to get his shirt off when she called him. ‘Harry? Can you give me a hand?’ Curious, he moved over to the other alcove. Still fully dressed, Janet turned her back to him. ‘I think the zip’s stuck. See if you can move it, please?’

  ‘Sure.’ He took hold of the slider, and the material next to it, and tried to move the slider down. It wouldn’t budge. He peered closer, trying to see why, smelling her spring flower perfume, and something else, a musk. His prick twitched at the warmth of her that he could feel, being so close to her. He peered again, and could just see that the stuff of her dress was caught behind the slider.

  ‘I think the dress material is jammed in the slider,’ he said. ‘I can’t move it.’

  ‘Damn.’ Silence for a moment. ‘It’s an old dress, Harry.’ She giggled, surprising him. ‘Think you could rip it off me, he-man?’

  ‘You want me to tear it off you?’ He couldn’t keep the startled surprise from his voice. Nor the excitement.

  ‘It saves going for scissors. Like I said, it’s an old dress. I’m fond of it, but if the material’s got into the zip it’s probably ruined, so yes, Harry, tear my dress off!’

  ‘Brace yourself.’ He took a firm hold of the material on either side of the zip, and pulled sideways. Resistance at first, and then the dress split down the seam next to the zip, and tore all of the way down to where Janet’s bottom jutted out towards him. She gave a shake, the ruins of the dress fell away, and he was rewarded with a vision in peach silk. Half-cup bra, barely covering her nipples. Skimpy panties, little more than thong. Smooth, lightly tanned skin. A lot of skin.

  Janet smiled as she turned to him. ‘Thanks, Harry.’ She put her hands to the front fastening of the bra, and it fell away. There they w
ere, those breasts he had only ‘nearly’ seen before, in all of their naked glory. Rounded, full, erect nipples crowning puffy areolae, they were beautiful.

  ‘Like them, Harry?’ she murmured.

  He managed to nod. ‘Beautiful,’ he said, embarrassed to hear the croak that his voice had become.

  ‘Thank you. Go on, get the rest of your clothes off,’ she said, letting the bra slide down off her arms, and reaching to push down her panties. She paused, thumbs in her waistband. ‘Oh, you want to see me first, eh? Okay.’ And she pushed the panties down, letting them fall, kicking them aside. She struck a pose, one arm in the air, the other on her thigh, weight on one leg, the other bent. ‘Tada!’

  He stared. She was lightly tanned all over, not a tan line to be seen. Her pubic hair, neatly trimmed to her panty line, was the same dark blonde as on her head, although slightly darker. Presumably from less sun, he thought, although considering the absence of tan lines, he wondered. She broke the pose, grinning at him.

  ‘I think you like the view,’ she said, her tone soft.

  He swallowed. ‘The most beautiful I’ve ever seen,’ he managed to say.

  ‘And I haven’t seen you yet, Harry, so get your clothes off, please.’

  He managed a smile and turned back to the alcove where he’d put his shirt, startled to find she’d followed him.

  She grinned. ‘You watched me; I watch you. Get ‘em off!’

  He swallowed the huge lump in his throat, and tried to ignore what he knew was almost a full erection pressing against the front of his jeans, unzipping them and pushing them down, then wrestling off the sneakers he’d forgotten about, kicking his jeans off. His boxers were tented in front and she looked down and then glanced up at him, a twinkle in her eyes. He managed a grin, and took a deep breath before he pushed the boxers down, breathing a sigh of relief as his prick sprang free, almost erect.

  Her eyes widened, and she smiled, then her eyes came to his. ‘Nice, Harry.’

  He gestured, embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘What for? Your body is paying me a compliment, and I’m flattered.’

  He gave her a wry look. ‘We both think you’re lovely.’