by Felix Baron
From a slight distance but still perfectly audible, Kitty continued, ‘I’m buttering my hand, Wanda, and I have to lean forward. There. I’ve got hold of the end of my scarf with one hand and I’m stroking him with the other one, the buttery one. Just call me “butter fingers”.’
Wanda chuckled.
‘He can breathe a bit easier now, but that doesn’t mean he can stop licking.’
Chuck said something but Wanda couldn’t make the words out.
Kitty said, ‘I don’t care if your tongue aches, Chuck. You just get it back on my clit and keep on licking.’ To Wanda, she said, ‘I’m stroking him slowly, up and down, and pulling just a little bit on the scarf, not enough to pull it out, just enough that he can feel the pressure – from inside!’ Kitty panted. ‘That’s right, Chuck, right there, but harder and faster.’
Wanda rolled her own clit between her thumb and finger. ‘Are you going to let him come?’ she asked.
‘I think so. I’m getting close, myself. I think this dominating thing is my thing, if you know what I mean.’
‘I can understand that,’ Wanda said, though she couldn’t. It seemed unnatural, somehow, for the woman to be in charge. Though, if the woman was dominating another woman, that didn’t seem quite so strange. She could see enjoying that, if she was the submissive one.
‘He’s getting really tense,’ Kitty said in a rushed, breathless voice. ‘I think he’s close. Are you close, Chuck?’
His answer was an anguished garbled cry.
‘Seems he is. I’m going to pump harder and faster, Wanda. He’s going to give me a nice big come, aren’t you, Chuck. You’re going to make a fountain for me, aren’t you? Show me how much come you can make, there’s a good boy. Yes, I can feel it coming. Here it comes! And I pull the first knot out of your bum, and the second, and you’re squirting right up into the air. More, Chuck. Show me what you’ve got. Yes! Yes! Yes! And me too! I’m there!’
There was a moment’s silence, then Kitty sighed. ‘That was very nice. Good boy, Chuck. Don’t worry, I brought wet-wipes. Once I release you, you can clean us both up.’ To Wanda, she said, ‘Was it good for you, Wanda, dear?’
‘Very interesting,’ Wanda allowed.
‘Did you climax?’
‘Of course,’ Wanda lied. ‘See you later. Bye.’ She clicked off. Damn. If the call had lasted just a few more minutes, she’d have got there. Of course, she’d already got off on her stable fantasy. Anyway, all she had to do now was keep diddling herself and come up with another erotic scene to imagine. Let’s see …
Chapter Fifteen
Just after supper, Olaf came in and announced, ‘He’s on his way. About ten minutes.’
Wanda gathered that Olaf was in charge of radio communications with Henry’s plane. If she’d known earlier, she could have pestered him into putting her in touch with her fiancé.
Ten minutes!
She tore upstairs, stripped, retouched her face, quickly but subtly so as not to offend her mom, pulled on panties, hose and her ‘little black dress’. She chose three-inch heels. Those would make her mom sniff but not forbid. Wanda was halfway out of her bedroom door before she remembered to dash back to her dressing table to dab her outrageously expensive perfume onto her temples and wrists.
She got back downstairs just as Henry came in through the front door. His chin was shadowed, as were his eyes. There was less spring in his stride. She got a hug, during which he inhaled strongly, and a peck on her lips.
‘I like the perfume,’ he said. ‘Do you?’
‘Love it.’ She moved in for a better kiss but the moms and Kitty all arrived at once for their hugs and to give air-kisses, forcing Wanda to back off. Bitches!
Henry said, ‘Sorry, but it’s been hectic and I’ve been in the air for over twenty hours today – today and yesterday. I’m going up to bed. I’ll say hello properly tomorrow morning. We leave at ten.’
From the background, Consuela demanded, ‘Food!’
‘I snacked as I flew. Make me a special breakfast, please?’
‘Humph!’
He said, ‘Night!’ and was gone, leaving Wanda feeling cold and empty.
And angry. He was her fiancé, dammit! When was he going to start treating her like his bride-to-be? Was this what her life with him was going to be like? ‘Hello goodbye’? A peck and a hug and off to sleep? If that was how it would be, she’d take a lover. No, two lovers. Maybe three? She’d give Kitty what she’d been begging for. Maybe she’d include Chuck. Her silly old fantasies? They were tame compared to what she’d get up to if Henry didn’t start treating her like a real, live, horny, woman.
Damn!
Wanda showered and tried to get herself off under the beating hot water but the feeling just wouldn’t come. In just her bathrobe, she crept downstairs, where it was all dark by then, and found a bottle of vodka to take back up to bed with her. She fell asleep before she’d solved the mystery of getting the top off.
The special breakfast that Consuela made for Henry was referred to as ‘full British’. There were eggs and back bacon and some organ meats and lamb chops, fried tomatoes and Portobello mushrooms, plus home fries. It was accompanied by toast and ginger marmalade. Henry ate as if he was famished, to Consuela’s delight. Wanda took one egg, two small pieces of bacon and half a slice of toast. She’d been eating too much. Anyway, if she ate very little while Henry devoured his food like a wolf, perhaps it’d make him feel guilty.
If he noticed.
Wanda lingered over getting ready. She’d chosen stretchy jeans that fit her legs, and bum, like pantyhose. Over it, she wore a big floppy shirt to cover up how low-rise the jeans were. It also hid her lack of the bra she didn’t need. She waited at the window until the luggage was loaded and everyone else got aboard. It was time for take-off. She still waited. At last, Olaf called up the stairs, ‘They’re all waiting for you, Miss Wanda!’
Good. Now, no matter what, her mom couldn’t send her back to change her clothes.
She sauntered over to the landing strip, rolling her hips. Her mom and Lucinda would be in the passenger cabin, being served drinks by ‘stew’ Kitty. They wouldn’t be looking out but Henry might be.
Once aboard, she headed straight for the pilot’s cabin, scruffing her shirt up high and knotting it as she went. Here, Mr Henry, Sir, take a look at this svelte midriff, if you will. Want some of this? Better get it while it’s still hot!
Wanda had the small satisfaction of seeing Henry’s eyes widen when she sank into the navigator’s seat. Then he was talking pilot-talk into his mic and the plane started rolling.
When they were in the air, he reached over and put his hand on her knee. Damn! She should have worn a skirt or a dress. A short one. And gone ‘commando’.
‘Wanda,’ he said, ‘it’s been hard on you, me being away on business so much.’
She nodded.
‘One thing I’ve been doing that might interest you is arranging our honeymoon.’
She laid her hand over his and waited. Whatever he had to say, it had better be good. Honeymoon arrangements should be by mutual agreement, the arrogant bastard!
‘I’ve booked us the honeymoon suite at the Palace, for our first night, then a cruise to Tahiti and made us reservations at an excellent hotel there.’
Oh? A cruise ship to Tahiti was hard to resent.
‘Then on to Rio. You’ll love Rio. You dance, of course?’
Her fiancé didn’t know even that much about her? ‘Of course,’ she said.
‘Latin American?’
‘Like the mambo and cha-cha?’
‘I was thinking more along the lines of the tango and lambada.’
‘Oh? Well, no, then.’
‘That’s OK. You’ll need the right clothes, of course, and to take dancing lessons. I’ll make arrangements.’
‘The right clothes? I have dresses for dancing.’
‘I’m sure that you have but in Rio the way the women dress to dance is quite special. You�
��ll see. It’ll please me to outfit you appropriately so leave that to me. Anyway, from Rio, to Rome and Paris, for shopping, then to London, where I’ll introduce you to some people and we can do all the touristy things, The Tower, The Eye, and so on. Some of the stately homes, maybe.’
‘Isn’t that a lot of travelling to pack into one honeymoon?’
‘I don’t think so.’ He squeezed her thigh and chuckled. ‘Why do you think I’ve been so busy, clearing my slate, making free time? The way I have it planned, and booked, our honeymoon will take three full months and two more days. That should give us ample time to really get to know each other.’
He’d been working himself ragged to give them time for a three-month honeymoon? And she’d resented it? Oh, Henry! Maybe he could put the plane on autopilot so she could show her appreciation? It’d be a bit cramped for sex in here, but the least she could do would be to give him a nice loving blow job. Would that shock him?
‘Does your plane have autopilot?’ she asked, working up to her offer.
‘Yes, Wanda, it does, but this little hop doesn’t take long enough to make it worthwhile. We’re coming into our descent already.’
Fuck! Too late. He wouldn’t know it but she’d give him a rain cheque on the oral sex. And she’d never doubt him again, ever!
Chapter Sixteen
Dr Sullivan turned a page of Wanda’s notes and asked, ‘This one, with Kitty and Chuck in the forest, was that real or a fantasy?’
‘I was just there by phone, but I think it was real.’
‘So you don’t remember getting any fantasy phone calls? I mean calls that you just imagined getting?’
‘I don’t think so. It’s hard to be absolutely sure. None from aliens from outer space, though, if that’s the kind of thing you mean. I’ve never fantasised an alien abduction.’
‘I see.’ He turned another page. ‘And did you perform oral sex on your fiancé while he was flying his plane?’
‘No, that was a wish, not a fantasy and not for real.’
‘The barn thing was definitely a fantasy?’
‘Oh yes, for sure. I’d never … Not in real life. That’s OK, isn’t it, Doctor?’
‘In a fantasy, anything and everything is “OK”. I’m not here to judge your love life, anyway. Your concern, and mine, is for you to be able to tell reality from imagination, and for you to gain more control over your – er – daydreams. “Control” doesn’t mean stop having them, if you need them, or just enjoy them. It just means your being able to function fully in the real world.’
‘Do you get many patients with my sort of problem, Doctor?’ Wanda asked.
‘I can’t discuss my other patients. You know that.’
‘Not in general terms?’
‘No.’
‘It’d help me to know I wasn’t alone.’
‘Everyone fantasises, Wanda. It’s just a matter of how often and what about.’
Wanda leaned forward in her chair. ‘Are my fantasies hotter than most other people’s, Doctor?’
He drew back. ‘They’re yours. That’s what’s important. Oh, look at the time. Next week, same time?’
‘Of course, Doctor.’ Had she embarrassed the poor man? Was it bad of her to find that funny? A girl can’t help but be proud of having the sexiest fantasies, can she? Or should she be ashamed of it? She’d ask him next week. Maybe by then she’d have had one that was even wilder than her one set in the stable, the one with Zeus and Adonis.
On the subway, Wanda concentrated on doing her Kegels. That always turned her attention inwards, so it helped prevent her from being lured into fantasy-land by any of the other passengers. It worked but by the time she got home she was feeling quite needy, which was the usual side effect of the exercise.
Her mom wanted to talk about the guest list for the wedding.
Wanda said, ‘That sounds like fun. I’ll just take a quick shower and we’ll do that.’
‘What’s your password? I’ll get started.’
That’d give Wanda more time in the shower so she said, ‘Bar C 123,’ before she realised that perhaps it wasn’t a good idea for her mom to have access to her computer files. She quickly added, ‘Here, I’ll bring it up for you.’ She took the laptop, logged in and brought the wedding list file up. ‘There you go, Mom!’ Wanda made a mental note to change her password as soon as possible.
In her bedroom, she’d just dropped her skirt when the phone rang.
Kitty said, ‘You’ve got mail!’
‘Hi, Kitty. What do you mean?’
‘Parcels, here, at my place, for you, care of me. Lots of them.’
‘Why would they come to you and not directly here?’
‘At a wild guess and seeing that they’re from Henry, I’d say they contain things that he doesn’t think you’d like your mom to see.’
‘Oh! Are they to be opened later, or now?’
‘They don’t say. Want me to open them for you?’
‘Don’t you dare! Can I come over right now?’
‘I’ve already opened the wine. Why don’t we have a sleepover? Want to ask your mom?’
‘Tell her, you mean.’
‘If you say so. I know you don’t like to drive but I’m only fifteen minutes from where you are. Get a cab. Henry can afford it. We could send out for pizza or Chinese, make each other’s face up, do each other’s nails, all sorts of girly-girly stuff. Wouldn’t that be fun?’
‘No funny stuff?’
‘I’ve got some porn movies we can share, but I know your rules – lookee, lookee, no touchee. That’s fine by me, unless you change your mind. I won’t pressure you, honest.’
‘Give me half an hour.’
‘Can’t wait. Bye!’
Wanda pulled her skirt back up, grabbed a few things from the bathroom, called a cab and went to the dining room, where her mom was. She announced, ‘I’m off to Kitty’s. I’ll need this.’ She picked up her laptop. ‘Sorry, Mom. We’ll get to the guest list tomorrow, when I get back. Promise.’ She rushed out before her mom had a chance to digest the implications of ‘Tomorrow, when I get back.’
Kitty’s apartment was on the thirtieth floor of a luxury high-rise. Obviously, the girl didn’t lack for funds, even if she did seem to be unemployed. When she opened the door, Wanda’s friend was wearing a pink silk nightshirt that had buttons and buttonholes from neck to hem. One button was done up. Wanda looked Kitty up and down. She raised an eyebrow.
‘Sleepover, right?’ Kitty said. ‘Come on in. It’s draughty out here.’
Wanda followed Kitty’s swaying hips. ‘That’s how you dress at two in the afternoon?’
‘Be prepared, right?’
‘Prepared for what?’
Kitty turned and shrugged, sliding her shirt off one delectable shoulder. ‘Whatever.’ She shrugged again, fully exposing her left breast.
‘You’re a bitch,’ Wanda said. ‘You said “no pressure”.’
‘True. Pressure is “pushing”. I won’t do that. All I’ll do is tempt you into making the first move, then all bets are off. I look on you as a challenge, dearest Wanda. I won’t rest until I’ve …’
‘Seduced me? Does Henry know what you’re like?’
‘Could be. He’s pretty observant. I’d hate to assume that he misses anything.’
‘Yet he still throws me in your path?’
‘Perhaps he hopes I’ll succeed?’
‘Or maybe he’s testing me.’
‘Hoping for what result? That you’ll resist or that you will succumb to my evil wiles?’
That was a thought. Most men thought about threesomes. What if Henry’s secret fantasy was making love to her and Kitty together? How did she feel about that? No, couldn’t be. That sort of thing came long after the honeymoon was well and truly over. She’d make sure that it never was over, not ever.
She told Kitty, ‘He’s your cousin, remember? If he wanted to set me up with another girl for a ménage, it’d be someone else, not you.’
Kitty pulled a sour face. ‘Could be that you’re right. So, how about all those pretty parcels, or did you want to get comfortable first?’
‘I’m comfy enough. Show me to the goodies!’
Kitty’s dining table was piled high with colourful packages, all addressed to Wanda, care of Kitty.
Wanda said, ‘Wow! Where do I start?’
‘Smallest to biggest?’
‘Sounds like a plan. Smallest is usually best, when it comes to pressies.’
Kitty fished out a parcel that was about twice the size of a cigar box. ‘Try this one, then.’
Wanda ripped the paper off and opened the cardboard box. There was tissue to discard, exposing stockings. ‘Stockings?’ she said, a bit disappointed.
Kitty lifted up the top pair. ‘Signs of things to come. Look at this, Wanda. Black, with lovely lacey tops, another pair in black, with seams up the backs. Blue. Green. Purple. Red. Gold and silver, fishnet and very long … It’s a veritable cornucopia of leg-adornments. Think about what it means.’
‘What?’
‘One, he likes your legs, a lot. Two, I’m betting that there’s a pair for each outfit he’s bought for you. You said he was buying you club wear, for Latin dancing? That’s what must be in the other boxes, what, maybe a dozen different sexy outfits?’
‘How do you know they’re all sexy?’
‘Fishnet stockings, under something dowdy? Glittery gold hose, under an old-lady-style frock? Could you imagine that?’
Wanda brightened. ‘I guess not. OK, what’s the next size up?’
Kitty selected a box that was covered in matte-black fabric and tied with golden cords. ‘This one has the fanciest wrappings. Just a sec.’ She returned with scissors. ‘Use these.’
Wanda was careful not to puncture the cloth, just in case – of what, she wasn’t sure. Inside was a full dress in black knit jersey. ‘It looks far too small.’