by Mia Ford
‘So did you get your inspiration?’
‘That’s where the awkward question comes in.’
‘Why’s that? Kurt tell the truth now, were you going through my underwear draw?’ she asked, amusing him in that she was talking to him like he was a naughty child.
‘Not guilty, Judge!’ he replied. ‘The thing is – and this is not my fault – but your handbag looked like it had fallen open.’
‘Oh, is that all you’re talking about, sanitary towels?’
‘Erm, no!’
‘What then?’
‘Darlene, there was definitely something hanging out that looked to me very much like a nipple tassel.’
She could have gotten away with the fiendish truth then, had she simply shrugged and said something like ‘That’s just a joke birthday present from a friend’. But Darlene did not do that. Instead she put her hand up to her mouth in a desperate attempt to cover something up (even though the rest of her body had nothing on).
What followed would lead to Darlene blushing again. Not because she was naked or had just made love properly for the first time. Supposedly that’s when it becomes difficult to blush even more, but she knew that Kurt was on to her and was simply not as good as him at fibbing.
The first certainty that Kurt got out of her was that the tassel was there for a purpose. It was not a joke present or something accidentally acquired, though getting her to elaborate and assuage his curiosity proved challenging. She clammed up, not from trying to deceive him but through being embarrassed by the truth.
In the end, it was only through revealing a few fetishes of his own that he was able to coax it out of her.
‘I’m a leg man, with a thing for Sharon Stone,’ he admitted. ‘Plus, I don’t know why, but I’ve always had a desire to make love in a hot air balloon.’
After laughing at the idea of that one, Darlene gave in and told him. So, was she secretly a fast lady who had deceived him about her virtue and attended lots of orgies? Not at all; it was actually all just a matter of taste – though he did find it delightfully fiendish and especially for someone of her background.
‘I’ve always had some kind of fascination for… well, erotic things, of a certain taste,’ she explained, reluctantly, then asking him ‘You know that word “burlesque”?’
‘Burlesque? Yeah, sure!’
‘Well, that kind of thing.’
‘No kidding!’
‘I’ve never actually done any of it but, occasionally, I like to go online and look at some of the quirky gear they wear. I don’t look at porn; I’m not into that.’
‘Me neither,’ Kurt lied.
‘And nothing masochistic or sick, you know. I’ve just always liked what that kind of clothing looks like and had fun imagining myself wearing some.’
‘Darlene, you’re getting more interesting by the minute.’
‘I guess it’s silly.’
‘Not at all,’ he said, dismissively. ‘All the sex secrets that people keep and you’re worried about good old-fashioned burlesque. What have you got to worry about?’
‘But it’s not exactly something I’m ever going to be involved with.’
‘Why not?’
‘Now you’re teasing me.’
‘I’d love to see you with your tassels on.’
‘That’s just something I dared to order online one day, then didn’t want to lose track of where it was so I stupidly kept it in my handbag.’
‘So if I asked you nicely you wouldn’t dress in something burlesque for me?’
Darlene looked about to slap him down and refuse but then wavered at the idea. He could tell that, with him there, she was starting to feel brave and he was determined to take full advantage of that.
Kurt got Darlene home around midnight but his yearning for her was quite a long way from being satisfied. He wanted a lot more of her and learning that this sheltered little church goer had a repressed kinky side was going to occupy his imagination for some time.
Being at sea so much, he had often dreamed of finding his mermaid and what it would be like. That girl that drew his fascination more exceedingly than anyone else could, to the point that could be described as irresistible. He had located her in the most unlikely of places, 50 kilometres inland at the Furse residence, but that was exactly how he loved life to be: unpredictable.
As far as he could make out, Darlene was besotted with having a man at last and not at all reticent about meeting up again and carrying on where they had left off. Plus, on the way back he had talked her into trying something with those secret yearnings of hers.
Of course, she thought it impossible at first, but he convinced her to start looking online for some naughty clothing she would like to model for him. The deal was that she would then email a link to him, he would order the items and they could be delivered to his place. Kurt didn’t mind the risk of having that kind of attire hanging around the place if it meant having more sexual adventures with Darlene. In addition, she had promised to bring her nipple tassels to complete the set.
Pulling up around the corner from her parents’ house, it then took a bit longer than it should have for Darlene to get inside. The two of them started snogging each other again and came very close to getting very carried away. Indeed, Kurt was about to suggest they move into the backseat when what they knew to be the light from the Furse front porch came on and they decided against doing so. Reluctantly they stopped groping each other but Darlene agreed that, even though she was not sure how and when, they would organize to see each other again very soon.
For the two days that followed Kurt spent much of his time racking his brains for how that could be achieved. Doing so was less easy than he imagined, despite being equal part adventurous and devious. The Furse family lifestyle was just too boring to allow for very much that was flexible to happen at all. Not wanting to wait for the next time Darlene was able to fake another town meetup with an old friend, Kurt was getting desperate when an email from his new lover served to present them with more opportunities.
Perhaps Darlene would prove the brains of the outfit after all, because she had decided to take her father up on that job offer. Though still unsure about whether she wanted the position, it had become more attractive due to the possibility of a transfer to the coastal offices if the trial period went well. In which case, they would be in close proximity and she could even move away from Portland and Clive Furse’s beady eyes. Additionally, having a job to attend nine to five meant a temporary loan of a company car (until she could get her own) and, more importantly, the potential to expand her social life. Which, who knows, might just include a few evenings meals, dinner parties or trips to the gym with fellow colleagues – or so she could claim.
Suddenly they were being presented with a whole list of possibilities and Kurt took heart that his desires would not be frustrated.
There was something else that Darlene sent him via email as well. One link to a lingerie website and another to a burlesque page. After signing into a checkout basket on the lingerie site, Kurt saw several items listed that Darlene had described as ‘In your best interests’. Whether they were a gift for her or for him was hard to be certain, but Kurt liked the fact that he could not see any pics of the items, meaning he could look forward to Darlene showing him by modelling them herself. Next to the second link she had written, ‘Almost went for something like this, but maybe next time’. Clicking on the link then took him to an image of a sultry Taiwanese lady wearing black panties and something lacy around her breasts that could best be described as a disintegrated bra. The seductive Eastern beauty also had nipple covers on, because that shawl covered up very little.
Kurt had to get up and go to the gym an hour early that day, because he knew what he would end up doing with that image in his head if not.
It became difficult to organize anything extensive for that first week, largely because Darlene was indeed dragged into a few extended workplace events in order to welcome her to the team
. They did meet again on the Thursday night, however, when they did finish what they had left off in the front seat of his car. A week had never seemed so long to Kurt and, by the time they met, their longing for each other was so potent that they did not even get to the cinema seat their rendezvous had been suggested for. Instead they spent the couple of hours they had together behaving like pure white trash in the car park, but agreed they would start having proper meetups again the next week.
Seeing as the ordered items had already arrived, Kurt was keen to make sure that came around sooner rather than later and convinced her to let him pick her up Monday evening.
That was the day the fiendish Darlene, who had kept her secret yearnings within for so long, was about to step forth and reveal herself. The Darlene he had seen a hint of when first coming across that nipple tassel; the secret that had stirred his own desires for her. The Darlene who was his to discover alone, who every hot-blooded male who had ever seen her simply had no clue existed.
She consented to being wined and dined that time, at his house in Pacific City. There would be time for epic burlesque voyages out on Arial, as soon as they could negotiate some time off together, but he couldn’t wait until then to see Darlene coming out of her shell. Waiting might only bring up complications or, if that initial excitement should fade somehow, cause her to lose her nerve.
After sampling his best attempt at cooking Italian and with the support of a glass of wine, a nervous looking Darlene took hold of the package he had signed for one week ago and disappeared upstairs. Before she did, Kurt had told her he wanted to make love to her in a manner that suited the sheer naughtiness of burlesque attire and she had agreed. Though unsure exactly what he had in mind, she gave him consent and all that was left was to wait for her to re-enter the living room.
What had she gone for? he wondered. Did it rival that see-through shawl the Taiwanese lady had been wearing? If so, he pictured himself launching onto her as if from a diving board. As it turned out, she had been far less obvious and more imaginative than that. Perhaps because it was her first time, understandably so, she had opted for the full gear and seeing her clad in such a way caused him to sink to his knees instead in sheer admiration.
Instead of a see-through shawl that looked like the slightest gust of breeze might blow it away, Darlene had opted for a full corset. Low at the bosom, which it hung so tightly around that both breasts seemed at risk of bursting out at any moment, the tightly-drawn pink number came in a shade of pink not so dissimilar to the color of her skin. A peeping Tom would have had to look twice to be certain that she was not naked. The corset followed the curve of her hips so that it ended just above the panties, though attached were some white and pink flower arrangements that caused him to wonder whether the panties were indeed beneath. Black high-heeled boots accompanied the corset, as well as a pink-rose headband that contrasted with the erotic clothing by offering an unbelievably innocent-looking face. A photograph from the neck up would have failed to reveal her true nature as a vixen, but Kurt was in her presence and knocked sideways by the transformation.
If it was not enough that there was a vision of such lust before him, Kurt was also to learn that being dressed in a way she had always wanted to did something dynamic to Darlene’s character. It was as if wearing the corset served to put her in character and she was not the shy creature he had seduced on the yacht anymore, but instead a dominatrix.
‘Are you looking my way, sweetie?’ she asked, with her hands on her hips and only lacking a whip to turn him into a slave.
‘You’ll have to forgive me if I drool at all,’ was his reply, which she returned with a wide and knowing grin.
The first time they made love had been all soft and gentle, but they were then to prove there was many layers to their sexual desire.
Darlene’s secret love for the erotic led them onto an isle of lust and raunch, of which Kurt had heard rumor but never ventured. He had never read the Karma Sutra either but imagined they must have ticked off a fair few positions that evening. (If not created a few of their own that would have been difficult to describe to an artist, not without a modern knowledge of some of the mod cons included in his living room.) On the carpet, the sofa, against the wall and climbing up the stairs; they prowled about like cats on heat making love multiple times as a subplot to his main task of trying to figure out how to get her out of that corset.
Kurt was helping her to find the real Darlene and, though he was taking at least as much pleasure along the way, for some reason it felt good to be a part of her awakening, regardless of the sex.
The two of them headed back to work with a glow on their faces, humming sweet songs as they went about their daily chores and looking forward to when they would next be able to continue the adventure.
Much to Kurt’s surprise, however, he was going to see her a lot sooner than expected. They had scheduled another secret liaison for the weekend, but little did he know that more than one strange twist of events was underway.
When the first of them came, it was completely unexpected and Kurt did not even have any of his seafaring philosophies in place to ride the storm. Hearings news of illness in the family is a sure-fire way of grounding anyone and that was exactly what happened on Wednesday morning.
Of all people, it was his father. Earl Wyden had always been a vision of good health and hardly ever even visited the doctor, but on that morning, he was rushed to hospital suffering a suspected stroke.
It was a scare that was accompanied by a sigh of relief, because the stroke was very mild and the doctors were happy to discharge him a few hours later. They would continue to monitor his heath and suggest some diet changes for a time but the family was assured there was no reason it should reoccur and that there was no lasting damage because they had reacted quickly.
On hearing the news, Kurt had insisted on driving them home from the hospital that afternoon and stayed at his parents’ house until the evening. He hoped that his presence might improve his mother’s spirits, who was clearly nursing a number of anxieties about Earl’s long-term health, while he was also keen to see how his father looked himself.
At 6pm he was just about to help his mother start cooking dinner when the doorbell rang and, to his complete surprise, Brenda returned to the living room followed by none other than Darlene.
Some extreme thinking flashed through his mind as to why she might be there. Had she been broken by the stress of keeping their relationship from their parents and come to announce they were going out with each other?
As it turned out, there was no need to brace himself for drama because it was all just a coincidence. Kurt did not know, but there were important company papers that needed to be signed that day and his father had been scheduled to head into Portland for an accounts meeting. Obviously, because the health scare had occurred, he could not make the discussion, but he had spoken to Clive over the phone from the hospital and suggested that someone bring the papers around for him to sign in the evening. Because Clive could not come himself, he had thought it a good idea to send the family a friendly face by asking Darlene.
Earl and Brenda were delighted to see an old family friend right then, greeting her warmly and asking her all about how her first days in the job had gone. All the while they had no idea there was something going on, though Kurt was aware he was saying very little, being afraid that the chemistry between them might be obvious when they spoke.
Darlene stayed for dinner and so the evening proved another warm family gathering. It was only when she got up to leave that Kurt was able to get a moment alone with her, as his father had some boxes of paperwork he had intended to take to Portland earlier that day.
‘Don’t even think of it, dad,’ he ordered, when Earl seemed about to get up and do the heavy shifting. ‘I’ll take them to the car for Darlene; you do as mom says and put your feet up.’
For once his father had no choice but to listen and Kurt headed outside with Darlene.
‘You g
ave me a surprise there, babe,’ he told her.
‘I know! I volunteered at the last minute and only considered that you might…’
But she cut her sentence short and Kurt turned to find her staring down the road at something.
‘Is something up?’ he asked.
‘I don’t believe it! It’s him,’ she replied, clearly struggling with what to think.
‘Who?’
‘Jefferson – he’s right there in that jeep, staring right at us.’
‘Who’s Jefferson?’
Of course, Kurt had never actually asked for the name of Darlene’s ex. Up until then he had complete zero interest in the man and, being worlds apart, he never expected to lay eyes on him.
‘My crazy ex. He must have been following me all the way from Portland,’ said Darlene.
‘Are you sure?’ Kurt asked. He could see the man’s face but could make out no distinguishing details. If asked to describe this Jefferson, he would have probably asked you to picture the most boring looking man in the world; a cardboard cut-out with a pair of thick black-rimmed glasses.
But Darlene seemed pretty sure.
‘He must have come all the way over from Boston. What does he think he’s doing?’
It had been a fairly surreal day and so perhaps Kurt can be excluded from staring back a bit dopily at first, but Darlene’s last question caused him to wake up a little. If there really was some weirdo following his girl about the place, then he was not going to stand idly by.
‘Damn straight, girl! I think I’ll be having a word with this bozo,’ said Kurt, dropping the box of papers onto the front lawn and then taking the first purposeful steps of what was going to be a march towards this Jefferson. His movement saw a response from the jeep, however, and so he only managed a few steps before stopping. From what he had heard of the man, standing in the road when he was endeavouring to speed by was quite possibly not the wisest decision.
How unhinged was this guy, after all?
The two of them then stood back and watched the jeep pass by, at which point Jefferson wound his window down, stuck his head out and shouted, ‘You slut! Burn in hell!’