by Powerone
free beneath the dress, unrestrained by a bra. And this would be Carrie. He watched her secretly as she unpacked the car, her ass pushed back as she dug the suitcases out of
the small trunk. He followed her from room to room, the lights going on, able to make out her body much better in the harsh lights of the rooms. He was disappointed when the
blinds began to close. His mind was already conjuring up a place for a redhead in his
latest novel. His cock stirred to hardness.
Carrie walked outside, the night already turning cool. She had put away some of her
things, but needed to stretch after the long drive. She put on a pair of shorts and halter top, sure that she wouldn't run into anyone on the beach. It was only eight, but the sun had already set, darkness setting in. She walked to the edge of the water, taking off her tennis shoes, walking barefoot in the shallow water. She inhaled the clean air, the water lapping gently at her feet. She began to walk, already feeling better. It was after nine when she returned, not even noticing that her every movement was being watched with such
intensity.
Carrie filled the next two days with things to take her mind off the funeral. She finished the arrangements; her mother would like her final sendoff. Friday night Carrie would
spread her Mother's ashes on the receding tides. The house began to take on Carrie's
character. She had spent a lot of money, buying new linens, towels, dishes, all the things that the old items would have reminded of her mother. She kept some of her pictures on the wall, though she did put them all in the second bedroom, a room that was now her
office. She didn't especially like the pictures; her mother had liked them so that was good enough for Carrie. She needed something personal to keep her mother's memory alive.
The house became alive in color, the drab colors gone for reds, blues, blacks and whites.
A new mattress and box springs and Carrie now claimed the main bedroom for her own.
The cottage was small, so Carrie spent over a thousand dollars putting up one wall of
mirrors in each room, mirrors making any small room seem much larger. And Carrie also
knew that the mirrors fed her exhibitionism, smiling back at her own naked body reflected back from the bedroom wall.
She looked often at the house next door, seeing the red Mercedes in the driveway,
then gone, but Carrie never saw the owner. At night, some of the lights would come on, but the curtains shielded the owner's privacy. She still had not seen the owner, but she somehow felt his presence, sensing that he was watching Carrie. Nonsense, she thought.
It was just her vivid imagination or maybe just her wishful thinking.
Carrie stood at the door of the small chapel, already paying her last respects to her mother. She greeted the small number of people that came, not recognizing any of them.
It had been a long time since she lived on Tybee Island.
James saw her standing in the doorway. She wore a black dress, long, past her
knees but it did little to hide her luscious body. It contrasted sharply with her red hair and pale white skin. His cock grew hard, James trying to contain his lust. There would be time for that later. He waited patiently while Carrie talked to a little old lady.
Carrie looked up, surprised to see the handsome man walking towards her. He was
dressed in a dark black suit, a grey pullover highlighting his taut chest. He seemed to be out of place with the other guests, maybe he was in the wrong chapel.
"Carrie?" His hand was already outstretched as he said her name. He took her hand in his firm grip, seeing the surprised look on her face. "My condolences about your mother.
She was a fine woman though I didn't know her long. I'm sure you will miss her dearly." He didn't release her hand, his other hand clasping over the two, feeling the softness of her skin.
"Thank you. It was rather quick. Too quick." Carrie stammered, his hands holding hers and confusing her, his grip so powerful. "How did you know my mother?"
"I'm sorry, I thought you knew. I bought the lot from her and built my house on it." He squeezed her hand tighter. "I'm your neighbor."
So, this was the mystery neighbor that she hadn't seen since she came home two
days ago. "I didn't catch your name." He still held her hand as if he didn't want her to leave. Not that she wanted to. It had been a while since a man's hand had excited her.
And he was exciting her.
James was staring blatantly at her beauty, her skin flawless. Her green eyes sparkled
in spite of the circumstances and the red lipstick made her mouth so much more sensual.
He looked down her body, making no excuse for his eyes. "I'm sorry. James. I meant to stop at your house sooner to introduce myself, but I'm sure that you have been busy.
Tybee Island residents are usually more sociable."
He was looking at her with lust in his big brown eyes. And Carrie craved the attention.
He must be mid forties, twenty years her senior, but it did little to dampen her arousal. She regretted it when he let go of her hand, still able to feel his powerful grip. His eyes roamed her body, Carrie subtly throwing back her red hair, thrusting out her chest as if she were parading for him. "Tybee Island residents are usually nosier, not sociable. I lived here many years ago. A small town run by the locals. No room for anyone that doesn't fit the mold."
James laughed loudly, some of the others looking up to see what the commotion was.
"Of course you are right. I was trying to be polite. I'm still an outsider even though I've lived here for over a year. Don't get me wrong, I like that. I think you will find that the town has changed. The locals still run it, but there is a group of people that are different from the rest and like it that way. I think you will find Tybee Island much more liberal now, than when you were here before. More open to new ideas and lifestyles." James had to shut up, he was sounding too much like a paid political message for the liberal cause. "I hope you plan to stay for a while. I think you would brighten up this drab community. Put some new life in it."
Carrie liked him already. He seemed to have already found a home in Tybee Island,
something Carrie never did. "I have no plans to leave for a while. I have a job where I can work electronically from anywhere. I've done some fixing up of the house," Carrie was trying not to say her "mother's house" any longer. "And I do love the ocean." Carrie paused for a moment. "But I still need convincing that Tybee Island has another side to it."
Another guest walked in the door and headed in Carrie's direction.
James knew that they would soon be interrupted. "How about if I take you to dinner Sunday night? I have some plans tomorrow night that I can't break, but I would love to tell you more about Tybee Island." He paused letting his words sink in. "After all, we will be neighbors."
She smiled at back at him, certain that he had plans for Saturday night. Someone that
handsome didn't stay home by himself, she was sure that all of the eligible and some of the ineligible women on the island had their eyes set on him. She noticed that he wore no ring, not even an unmistakable tan line was on his finger. How could someone like that still be single? "I would love to," Carrie said smiling at him sexily. The older couple was only a foot away. "Eight o'clock?"
"Yes, I'll pick you up," smiling as he said it. "I think I know where you live. It was nice meeting you. And again, my condolences." He took her hand again for a brief second and then let if go, feeling the electricity race though their hands. He walked away as Carrie already began to speak to the new couple.
The day was finally over, Carrie making the final trip down to the ocean, sprinkling her mother's ashes into the receding surf. She felt a relief that it was over, sadness and loneliness still filled her. She passed James' house on the way home, the lights were out, the blinds were down and his car was nowhere in sight.
The next day she spent exploring the beach, lyin
g out in the sun for a while, making
sure that she didn't burn her sensitive skin. She walked for miles, feeling good just to listen to the gentle rhythm of the surf. She went into town for lunch, sitting outside at a lovely bistro on Butler Street, catching a glimpse of Rascal's bar where she met Jessie two years ago. The vivid thoughts of the bondage in the jail rushed to her brain and between her legs, Carrie still masturbating to that night often. Her disappointment was with William, failing to get him to let her explore the feelings manifested with him that night in the theater. She had long given up hope for that reality; instead it always thrust itself into her fantasies.
CHAPTER 7
Don't be Surprised by What you See when you Peep
They say you shouldn't be surprised by what you see when you peep. After all, they
were trying to hide it from your prying eyes. An axiom that Carrie would soon learn all too well.
Carrie looked out her window when she heard the car pull into the driveway next door.
She peeked around the corner, not wanting to be so obvious. It was James, pulling in,
putting the top up on his car. He went into the house, the blinds closing on all the windows in spite of it not even being dark yet. Strange, Carrie thought. She had no plans for the night, picking up a DVD at the local rental store, some popcorn ready to be made. She sat in the living room, her blinds open, able to see James' closed up house. She popped the popcorn and turned on the DVD just as it got dark. She still didn't close her blinds, no need to, James had his closed. It wasn't as if she was doing anything more then watching a movie and not a very good one at that.
It was nine o'clock, Carrie looking at her watch when she saw the headlights pull into James' driveway. She turned off her television, plunging the room into darkness as the car stopped, Carrie peering out from the dark room. Carrie couldn't understand it, an almost possessive attitude overtaking her. She only had a dinner date with James tomorrow night and she was already watching him like a stalker. Was she that bored with her life that she had to follow someone else's?
Carrie recognized her when she stepped out of the car. She had seen her twice
today. She was the cashier at the local grocery store. They had exchanged pleasantries but that was the extent of it. She looked different than when Carrie saw her. Gone was the long apron and the hair pulled back into a ponytail. She looked all together different now, Carrie getting up to peer from the corner of the window. She was glad that James' porch light came on to brighten the driveway, obviously James was expecting her. He could
make her out better now. She was a couple of inches shorter then Carrie, about five feet five inches. She must be about twenty-two or three, not much younger than Carrie. She
had blonde hair, which undoubtedly was partly bleached by the sun and partly bleached
by the bottle. She was wearing a rather conservative white button down blouse with a blue scarf around her neck. The plaid schoolgirl skirt was far from conservative, the hem cut high up her thighs, the material molded over her hips and ass. She wore sneakers and
black knee socks. This was not attire for a date. The mystery surrounding her neighbor deepened. Who was this man that was going to take her to dinner tomorrow night?
James turned on the outside lights when he heard the car approaching. It was Candy,
on time, James never sure that the girls would show up, though he never had one change her mind. After all, it was a big step for them. A giant leap of faith.
Four Days Earlier
He had nurtured the relationship with Candy for over two months. He had been in
town long enough for the gossip to spread. Most knew he was a writer and that he kept his pen name secret, many trying to guess who he was. They knew he was famous or at least
thought they knew. There were subtle hints that James dropped to a select few. All of
them beautiful girls that looked at him with molten eyes. He wrote romance. If that didn't offend them, he added erotica. To many of them that peaked their interests. It was
surprising how many of his readers were younger girls and women. Obviously, boys failed to satisfy their inner fantasies, a place where James knew exactly what turned on many of them. In this age of women's liberation, many wanted to be controlled, to be taken without consent. Forced to perform sexually for the satisfaction of others. After many months of short conversations with Candy, he took her to lunch one day, her interest piqued by their candid talks.
"So you write erotica?" Candy crossed her legs, squeezing her thighs tight. She had been playing a game with James for over a month, he had been teasing her with what he
did. "Bondage?" She said the word quietly as if everyone was trying to hear their conversation.
"Does that excite you?" He could hear it in her voice. A slight tremble when she said the word.
"Yes," she hated to admit it but she had begun to get on the Internet, checking out the novels on Fictionwise.com. Under erotica, BDSM was one of the best selling topics. She read some of them, instantly recognizing James' books. They were unmistakably his,
James was always the main male character.
"My novels require a lot of research. It is difficult to describe some of the scenes from memory. In most cases, I have the idea of the novel in my head; it's just a matter of putting it down on paper. If you read any of my novels, you notice that I am detailed. Very
detailed," highlighting his words.
"I know. You describe both the male and female characters and what they are feeling.
That is what makes your novels so exciting. I often wondered how you could do it with
such precision." She knew where James was heading, or at least she hoped she knew. "I have heard rumors." Her pussy was drenched as the words came out of his mouth.
"They are all true; otherwise we both wouldn't be here. I am always looking for willing girls that want to explore BDSM. It takes a special girl. I don't want someone experienced in it, preferring bondage virgins. I study their faces during the encounter, the sounds they make, the way their bodies move and most of all their orgasms. You will feel the pleasure that bondage can give you, but you will also feel the pain."
Her eyes opened wide. "Pain?" She hadn't thought of that. Sure, there would be discomfort, her arms and legs bound. But pain.
"There is a fine line between pain and pleasure while sexually aroused. Have you
ever scraped your fingernail over your nipple while aroused? Or had a boy pinch your
nipples too hard during lovemaking?"
She nodded in agreement. She hadn't thought of it that way. Yes, there was the tingle
of pain, but it was quickly erased by the pleasure of the moment. "Can I stop at anytime?"
"No. It is about submission. You can only surrender it once." He could see it in her eyes, her mind racing as she contemplated all of the things he said. "My research is essential to the success of my books. For that I do pay well. For one night of submission, I will pay a willing candidate $1,000.00. I could hire a hooker for less money, but I want the innocence of someone experiencing it for the first time. And I do not use the same person a second time."
A thousand dollars was a lot of money to a grocery clerk, but she felt a twinge of
doubt. It was almost as if she were a hooker. She looked at him, strong hands, almost
feeling them on her body. It had been a while since she had a boy, Tybee Island not
where the boys stayed once they grew old enough to leave. It was a once in a lifetime
decision. "When?"
He hooked her. "Saturday night at my house. Eight o'clock and I expect you on time. I will give you clothes to wear. I like a certain look depending on my novel at the time. Now stand up."
She stood up instantly, James looking at her, his eyes looking at her body, Candy
almost afraid to think what his mind was conjuring up that he would do to her.
"Very nice body. Do you perform oral sex?"
The question threw her, not expecting it in the middle of a restaurant. "Yes."
"Have you taken a cock down your throat?"
Her eyes opened wide. "No," her voice trembling. Was he making up a list of things he would do to her?
"Ever been sodomized?"
She had never contemplated that. She just thought about being tied up. She began to
feel a bit scared of Saturday night. But it added to the arousal she felt as she imagined James over her, naked, his cock demanding satisfaction from her mouth. And her ass.
She would have no choice in the matter, his pleasure would be the only criteria. "No."
"Have you been tied up?"
"Only by myself." She added. "Yesterday."
So she had tried bondage on herself. She would find it much different with someone
else in control. "Spanked?"
"Only as a child."
"Sit back down. Enjoy your lunch." He looked at her directly in her eyes. "Keep your legs spread for me. I want to imagine the treasures between them."
She spread her legs, her skirt pulling back wide. She was sure that if anyone looked
at her they would see up her skirt, but she wouldn't deny James. Not now and not
Saturday night. They had an enjoyable lunch, but Candy was on edge, wanting to hurry
home and masturbate. As they were leaving the restaurant, James gave her one last
order.
"I don't want you to cum until I tell you. Do you understand me?" He put his hand under her chin until she looked into his eyes. He could see her eyes pleading with him. He knew that she was extremely aroused. If he touched her now she would cum in a minute.