by Becky Bell
'And that's how you got my telephone number.' She'd wondered how Gregory had found out where she worked.
'Paula let it slip that you'd helped her find the house. She refused to tell me where you worked, but it wasn't difficult to call the local estate agents and ask if they had an Angela Strickland. I got you on the third call.'
'So how long has this been going on?'
'Two years.'
The lights changed and Gregory accelerated.
'You've been seeing her for two years. And before that?'
'There were several different girls before her. Not as good as her. Paula really enjoys it. You can see that for yourself. It's not just the money for her: or, if it is, she's the best bloody actress in the world.'
'She enjoys it.'
They turned left into Pembridge Road and left again and parked a few doors down from Angela's block of flats.
'Look, Angela, I know I've behaved badly but you can't believe what a thrill it was, seeing you like that. I've been thinking so much about you. That's why I asked Paula to arrange a return engagement. I didn't know you were into...'
'Say it,' Angela said angrily.
'That you like women.'
'That's none of your business.'
'I know. I know. But it's just...' He stopped.
'It's just what?'
'I'm a rich man, Angela. I was thinking. There's some nice flats around here. After what you did the other day... I thought perhaps I could set you up in a flat.'
'Why would you want to do that?'
'So I could come and visit you, whenever I was available.'
'Like a prostitute.'
'No! Well, yes, if you like. But with only one client. I was going to ring you and suggest it anyway.'
'And Paula?'
'Paula's got other clients. She's made a great deal of money out of me. She wouldn't mind. She'll probably refuse to see me after tonight anyway.'
Angela looked at him. What had happened tonight had been a shock. She was still annoyed with herself for not recognising him sooner. But none of that marred her excitement. Once again, she had experienced almost indescribable sexual pleasure as a result of being totally in control. Gregory had been her slave, hers and Paula's. He was a strong healthy man who could easily have overpowered both of them but he was prepared to let himself be bound and gagged and used in any way they wished. It still amazed her that she found this so arousing, but she could not deny that she did. Of course Paula's subtle ministrations had greatly enhanced what she had felt but that was not the main source of her arousal.
'I'll think about it,' she said loftily.
'That's all I ask,' he said.
'Door.'
He looked at her as if he didn't understand what she meant, then jumped out of the car and ran around to open the passenger door.
Angela got out. 'Call me in two days. Not before,' she said.
'I will.'
She walked up the street towards her block of flats. With her back towards him, he could not see the broad grin that was spreading across her face.
'Congratulations.'
'Thanks.'
They raised their glasses and clinked them together. The champagne was not the best quality, not what she had got used to at Paula's house, but it was the best the pub could provide.
Sally Fennell was pretty and young with bob-cut auburn hair. She had a round, rather doll-like face, with a retroussé nose and a small thin-lipped mouth; she liked to display her slender and curvaceous body in short skirts and low cut dresses.
'Gary's really pleased with you,' she said. 'You've done really well.'
They were sitting in the pub around the corner from the office. An hour ago, Angela's customers had agreed to purchase the house in Claremont Road at the asking price. She'd asked Sally to come out and celebrate with her. It would mean her largest bonus yet.
'I must have had a good teacher. Thanks for being so supportive when I first joined. You were really great,' Angela said.
'You didn't need much support.' She sipped the wine. 'I really love champagne.'
'There's a possibility I might buy a flat, myself.'
'Really? Have you come into some money?'
'In a manner of speaking. Who's that over there? I think he's waving at you.'
'Oh, that's Bob Berry.'
'He's gorgeous.'
'And he knows it.'
'An ex?'
'I went out with him once or twice.'
'Hi, Sally.' Bob Berry had arrived at their table. He was tall, with long blond hair. He was slender but with a broad chest and the sort of natural grace that suggested a definite athleticism.
'Hi, Bob. How's the markets?'
'Up and down. Aren't you going to introduce me to this beautiful creature?' He was staring at Angela.
'Angela Strickland, this is Bob Berry, the wolf of Notting Hill Gate.'
'Pleased to meet you. You have to excuse Sally; she couldn't take the pace.'
'Bob thinks he's God's gift to womankind.'
'Oh that's hitting below the belt.'
'And believe me, below the belt is exactly where he likes to be hit.'
'So what are you two celebrating?'
'Angela has just sold the unsellable house.'
'Really? Tell me more.'
'Get lost, Bob; this is a private party.'
'Girl talk. I understand. Well, if you change your mind I'll be over there with the boys.' He nodded towards the bar, where a knot of men stood drinking pints from straight glasses. 'Nice to meet you, Angela,' he said, extending his hand. He had long bony fingers.
'And you,' Angela said, shaking his hand. She looked into his dark blue eyes. He was a very attractive man.
Bob Berry went over to his friends and Sally and Angela settled into a long discussion about Slaughter and Roe, discussing all the different personalities in the office. Soon the bottle of champagne was empty.
'Hey,' Sally said suddenly, 'I've got to go. I've got a date at eight-thirty.' She glanced up at the big clock on the wall of the pub. It was ten minutes past seven.
'Come on, then.'
They got up and walked out of the pub together. Angela glanced over at Bob Berry, but he was deep in conversation with a little fat man with tortoiseshell spectacles.
On the pavement Sally spotted a bus coming down the road. 'That's my bus,' she said. 'Got to run.' She began running towards the bus stop. 'See you in the morning,' she called out. 'Thanks for the champagne.'
The bus stopped and she hopped on it.
'Always was a good little runner.' The voice came from behind her, Angela spun round. Bob Berry was standing on the pavement. 'The trouble was, she liked to run away from me.'
'I can't imagine why,' Angela said.
'Oh, I thought she would have told you the whole story by now.'
'I wasn't interested. I like to judge people for myself.'
'Good. I don't suppose I could buy you some dinner, could I?'
'Well, as it happens I'm famished.'
'There's a nice restaurant, over there.' He nodded towards The Pharmacy, on the other side of the road.
'We'd never get in.'
'I know one of the owners,' he said, tapping his finger against the side of his nose.
'How convenient.'
'This is lovely.'
'No, it's not; it's horrid. But you're not here for the decor.' She closed her front door, leant against the wall and caught him by the hand, pulling him closer. She kissed him on the lips, pushing her tongue into his mouth and squirming her body against him. In seconds, she felt the reassuring bulge of his penis ballooning out against her belly.
She had never been to bed with a man, the first time she had met him. Never. It was against all her own rules. But the rules had changed. She was strongly attracted to Bob Berry and, as they had sat eating Trompettes de Risotto and Seared Tuna on a bed of celeriac, she had decided that she needed to experiment again. Since meeting Paula and getting involved with Gregor
y again, she had not had straight sex, the sort of sex that had been so problematic before. Now, here was an attractive, strong and obviously experienced guy who, she was sure, would be able to provide her with just that. It was entirely possible, she thought, that everything that had gone on with Paula and Gregory had broken down some sort of mental or physical barrier, a resistance to whatever impulses now gave her such orgasmic pleasure. If that were the case then, according to the theory she was busy developing, straight sex would be just as satisfying as the more outré variety.
And there seemed no time like the present to prove her theory correct.
'Come this way,' she said, breaking the kiss. She took his hand and led him into the bed-sitting room.
'You certainly know what you want,' he said.
'There's no point pretending, is there? Or are you put off when women take the initiative?'
Bob smiled. 'I think I prefer it.'
She was still wearing her working clothes, a black suit over a beige blouse. She pulled the jacket off and arranged it over the back of one of the two dining chairs.
'I need to use your loo.'
'Out in the hall,' she said. 'It's pretty grim.'
'I'll take my chances.'
He disappeared through the door.
Angela stripped off the rest of her clothes and hung them in the small rickety built-in wardrobe at the side of the bed. It occurred to her to put on a suspender belt and a pair of stockings, but she decided against it. If she was going to experiment with straight sex, she should do so without any trimmings.
She turned on the bedside light and draped it with one of her darker scarves, then switched off the stark overhead light. The room was thrown into a dim glow, heavy shadows hiding the peeling wallpaper and plaster and nasty threadbare carpet. Naked, she climbed into the bed. Her mother had sent her a set of white linen sheets which she had just washed. They were a real luxury in the seedy room. She arranged herself on the pillows, her head propped up slightly, her body covered by the sheet. This was all new enough to her for her excitement to be mixed with a good pinch of apprehension. In the past, she had always spent weeks deciding whether she was going to go to bed with a man, and getting to know him first, Bob Berry was a perfect stranger.
The door opened and he walked back into the room. He was wearing a pink towel knotted around his waist. His chest was hairless, deep and muscled, and his abdomen absolutely flat. His arms and legs were equally impressive.
'Mmm...' Angela said. 'You're in good shape.'
'I like to work out,' he said, sitting on the bed beside her. He leant forward and kissed her very gently on the lips. She wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled him towards her so their mouths were mashed together. This created a sharp jolt of excitement.
His hand worked under the sheet. It cupped her left breast and tweaked her nipple.
'Nice tits,' he said, moving his lips down her throat, nibbling and kissing at the corded sinews. He pulled the sheet aside and fed her nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard and pinching it between his teeth. As he did this, the fingers of his other hand found her right nipple and squeezed it simultaneously.
'Lovely,' she said, arching her head back.
His mouth descended over her belly. She could feel his tongue leaving a wet trail across it. He came up on his knees beside her, parted her legs gently with his hand, then dropped his head down between his thighs. Instantly, she felt his hot wet tongue delving into her labia. He found her clitoris and tapped his tongue against it as she felt his hand burrowing under her buttocks and up towards her vagina. Two, then three fingers entered her. She moaned loudly.
He began to saw his fingers in and out of her while his tongue nudged at her clit, batting it from side to side. Familiar trills of pleasure shot through Angela's body: much more intense than anything she had felt before in this situation. Her theory looked as though it were going to be proved correct.
Raising her head, she looked at him. His cock was fully erect. It was big and broad, and uncircumcised. Angela moved her hand up and ringed it with her fingers, squeezing it tightly. It was hard and hot - as hard and hot as Gregory's had been two days before. His foreskin had already partially retracted over his glans and Angela pulled it back the rest of the way.
'Let me,' she said.
Without missing a beat in the rhythm he was applying in his double-pronged attack on her sex, he swung his leg over her shoulder so he was straddling her face. Eagerly, Angela raised her head and took his glans into her mouth, her lips wrapped around the distinct ridge at its base. She used her tongue to lick it all over, then pushed the tip into the little slit of the eye of his cock. She opened her mouth wider and swallowed the whole length of him until he was butting into the back of her throat. His cock pulsed appreciatively.
Angela closed her eyes. The delicious waves of pleasure he was producing in her vagina were combining with the sensations from her clit, but she was suddenly aware that they were not creating any sense of urgency, any thick throbbing pulse that was the first sign of orgasm. She thought of how quickly she had come on Gregory's mouth or on Paula's, but then tried to dismiss the thought. If she started to compare it with those experiences, she had no chance of sorting out what her real feelings were.
But Bob Berry apparently sensed something too. He pulled his erection from her mouth and sat up, moving his leg so he was kneeling by her side again. His face had a wry expression, as if he knew she was putting him through some kind of test.
'Fuck me,' she said. 'That's what I really want.' She hoped it was true.
'You're very beautiful,' he said. He caressed her body, sliding both hands along her sides from her chest to her hips.
Angela opened her legs and angled her sex up towards him. He lay down beside her, then rolled on top of her. She felt the heat of his erection against her sex, his glans immediately nosing into the sticky wet mouth of her vagina.
'Yes,' she said, squirming down on to him before he could move. His cock slid into her. Bob bucked his hips and plunged it deeper. She felt the satiny tube of her sex parting to admit him and a surge of feeling swept over her.
He started moving inside her, pulling almost all the way out of her, then thrusting back in again. It was wonderful. He was strong and the rest of his body, his chest and belly, were as hard as his cock. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the lips, letting his tongue invade her mouth. There seemed to be a direct connection between her mouth and her sex, both hot and sticky and wet.
'You feel so good,' he whispered, without taking his mouth away from hers.
'You're so hard.'
He was a wonderful lover, better than any she had ever had before. He pounded into her, using all his strength to get deeper, his erection not only as hard as steel but seemingly swelling further, as if increasingly excited by the living sheath of flesh it was encased in. He ground his pubic bone against her too, trapping her clitoris between their bodies. And it wasn't all brute strength. He drove into her ferociously but then varied his pace, slowing the rhythm and using tender delicate strokes as well. He was so strong, he could lift his belly off hers and thrust his cock into her at different angles, exploring new areas of her cunt. He showed no signs of coming, either, his excitement perfectly under control.
But none of it was enough. The initial outburst of feeling, as he'd penetrated her for the first time, had dissipated. What Angela felt now was pleasant but hardly orgasmic. She tried to concentrate on his erection, trying to sensitise her vagina to feel him, to make out the ridge at the bottom of his glans and the gnarled curl of veins she had seen, hoping this would increase her excitement. She tried to imagine it, in her mind's eye, as it plunged into the silky wet tube of her sex. But none of it worked. Her responses remained muted.
She noticed a film of sweat had formed on his upper lip, though for all his exertions his breathing was perfectly regular.
Perhaps it would be better if she were on top. That would give her a degree of con
trol without it being too obvious.
'I want to be on top,' she whispered in his ear.
Almost before she had finished speaking he had run his hands under her back, gripped her to him tightly and rolled over, taking her with him, the whole thing accomplished like some exquisite ballet movement; all the while he was buried inside her.
'I love it like this too,' he said.
Angela came up onto her knees. She was in control of the rhythm now. Just as she had with Gregory, she raised herself on her haunches and slammed herself down on him. Bob moaned, reaching up to take her breasts in his hands. Angela raised herself more slowly this time, and lowered herself slowly, too, again concentrating on feeling every inch of his cock as it slid into her. She felt his glans nudging into the neck of her womb and ground her hips, pushing her clitoris against his pubic bone. There was a mild response, a pleasant warm sensation deep inside her, but nothing more, nothing that matched the overwhelming excitement she had felt two days before in exactly the same position.
She moved more rapidly, squeezing his cock as hard as she could with her vaginal muscles. But the more she tried, the more numb she felt. This had been a very bad idea. She could see that the expression on his face had turned from lust to mild curiosity, as if he were wondering what was going on.
She closed her eyes. Images of Gregory drifted into her head. She focused her mind on them. She saw his buttocks tremble as the lash of the whip sliced into them. She heard his voice. 'Yes, Ms Strickland.' She saw herself leaning forward to buckle the leather cuffs around his wrists as he lay on this very bed. Instantly her sex clenched around Bob's cock. She quickened the tempo, sliding up and down on him more rapidly.
'That's it,' Bob said, encouragingly, obviously feeling her increased enthusiasm.
It was hopeless. She could not resist. In her mind's eye, she saw Paula sitting on Gregory's face; and watched as his tongue lapped at her clit. She felt his cock, smooth and featureless under the thick black rubber, sliding into her. She could see Harriet too, standing on the little patio with the tight penis corset wrapped around his cock, his agony written in every line on his face. Why was that all so exciting? Why did it make her shudder?