“That is absolutely fine.” Amelia assured her. “He’ll be happy to finish up on the windows anyway.”
“Who says he hasn’t finished up already?” Dom’s voice called, and the group collectively turned to see the tall man, holding the beads and looking pleased.
“Have you done the bathroom, kitchen and upstairs?”
“No.”
“Then let’s go.”
And just like that, the pair were gone, leaving Jenna, Henry and Aaron with Viola, a camera in her hand and a calculating look piercing her round eyes. The room seemed darker and more intimate with it empty, yet Viola, so sweetly unabashed, made it seem mundane and commonplace, as if people weren’t once hung for buggery, and never would someone be termed ‘abused’ for their love of a riding crop. A pervert for pressing their lips against the handle in affection and gratitude.
“I want to start with just hands and sections of bodies for now.” Viola told them as she matter-of-factly pulled a length of rope through her fingers. “Jenna, can you clasp your hands behind your back, and then Henry stand in front of her with your arms around her and your hands holding hers?”
They manoeuvred into position awkwardly but hastily, turning their heads to face her as they waited for her to fix their undoubtedly wrong positioning. Their heads were turned together though, and Jenna felt that familiar spark of want rise as she felt Henry’s heat and his breath, his cheek only millimetres away from her own. She could feel the smooth skin, if only she would lean a little closer…
Viola watched them critically, walking towards them and standing behind Jenna to see their hands, pulling and pushing them into the position that she wanted, and unknowingly pulling Henry forwards. Henry was leaning over her shoulder now, still the same shoulder that Jenna herself was peering over, watching Viola’s neat but slow tying of the thick rope around their hands, binding them. Her arms behind her back, her chest pressed forwards, Jenna had no choice but to feel Henry’s body so close to the length of her own, unable to shift or pull away, even as she stood with precarious balance, the anxious stillness of someone who feels that they cannot move an inch forwards or an inch back for fear of falling into someone; be it the friend at her back or the lover before her.
They are not your enemies.
The absurdity of her worries was easily apparent, and yet she did not listen to the loud, clear, sensible voice that often governed her well. She was too overtaken with the headstrong, worried Jenna that required constant reassurance and yet could not ask for it even when it was less than a centre meter away.
She wobbled lightly, a small gasp of breath escaping her as regained her footing, a little closer to Henry than she had been before, her hands pulling tighter against the rope. Henry’s heated hands scorched her as they rubbed together, their palms entwined and their wrists chafing. He laughed softly, a low quiet laugh that Jenna was uncertain of Viola hearing. If she did hear, she didn’t comment, only carried on moving fingers as Henry stepped closer still, their bodies touching completely and his arms caging her. No longer lifted away, now they held her, brushing against her hips before rising to circle her lower back. Every breath of his could be felt, every fan of air over her cheeks and lift of her chest against her own. She could feel herself heating at the exquisite feel; warmth of skin, soft hardness of his torso brushing hers, the smell of him, clean and masculine as it invaded her nostrils. She could hear it when he swallowed.
What if he just turned his head, just a little, to lick and nibble at her ear?
Jenna suppressed a moan and closed her eyes, determined not to move even as she felt her body responding, her needy quim awakening and begging for attention. Could he feel her, through their layers of clothing, she wondered. She wondered if he could smell her, if Viola could, too. Hers was a heady scent, one that she knew well as she licked the arousal from her fingers or stared in amazement at her damp knickers. It was the smell that filled her bedroom and lingered in the sheets, filled the bathroom along with steam when she masturbated while bathing.
Without warning the warm breath flew over her neck, blowing gently as he did to peak her nipples.
Regardless of where the sweet scent aimed, her breasts felt constrained. Another small chuckle and then his voice, far too close and far too low. A small shiver fell down her spine like a feather’s stroke, and although she could not remain like a statue, she opened her eyes to see if she’d been seen.
Only to be met by Henry’s smirk.
“This good with you?” He asked Viola. “You said you wanted faces, too.”
“Just hold you horses!” Viola reprimanded. “I already told you that I’m doing the hands first. But yes, I’ll do your faces before I untie you. Jenna said that she’s okay, too, with the faces, so we’re all good.”
Henry met Jenna’s gaze and nodded, but his lover barely noticed, occupied as she was with the realisation that although she had brought Henry along as the partner that Viola had required of her, Henry had also brought her along as his.
No wonder he hadn’t been asking any questions. He’d already heard it all from Viola herself.
Aaron was silent as he rested against some shelves, one elbow on the wood and one leg straight while the other crossed over it. He watched quietly, keeping a reasonable distance away, however it wasn’t an empty gaze in the direction of Viola. Instead he seemed fascinated, his face inscrutable and his body relaxed but his eyes intense as they followed the pixie-like woman.
Jenna’s attention was commanded once more by a final tug of the rope, and she found Henry again, watching her intently, as intently as Aaron was watching Viola. The corners of his mouth turned upwards, and Jenna could not help but smile in response while the camera clicked and flashed behind her. She could hear Viola moving, shifting to take the shot from a variety of different angles, but found herself having less difficulty with remaining still than she had had before. There was no embarrassment, only a slight boredom as she waited out the flashes, watching Henry as he watched her. Scant moments later, Viola was done.
She stood to their side, her head tilted as she pondered them critically.
“Put you heads together so that they’re touching.” She demanded, and Jenna and Henry did so. “Now close your eyes.”
And that was that, a few more clicks and then the unwinding of the rope. Jenna’s eyes remained closed though, even though Viola softly whispered that she was done. She liked the feel of Henry against her with her eyes closed, focused only on feel, scent and sound. Viola’s small hands helped too, sparking life into her hands as they unwound the coarse rope. Once freed, she opened her eyes, holding still for a few moments more before taking her hands away and stepping back from Henry.
“Now take your shirt off and kneel.”
Jenna did so efficiently, folding the material and placing it aside, a new habit born of her interactions with Henry, who hungrily followed her every moment, his dilated pupils directed at her chest, where the small swell of breast could be seen as she reached her arm across her body. She knelt before Henry, demurely averting her eyes as her cheeks flushed at the position that was a little too close to home.
She expected his hands in her hair or his cock at her lips, but neither came. And, she realised, groaning internally, neither would she. Until Viola was done with her slow capturing of their chemistry, she would not have a chance in hell at getting off.
No, that sort of thing would be far too outrageous for sweet Viola, and Jenna was already resigned to her fate.
She kneeled perfectly, as well postured and submissive as she would be if it were just her and Henry alone. Several photos and several uncomfortable moments and the Viola spoke again.
“Keep the rest of your body exactly the same, but lift your head a little to look at Henry, please.” She asked and Jenna did so, almost melting as she could not avoid it any longer.
He was burning, a half-snarl on his lips as he took in the sight of her, kneeling before him, her face tilted up to him expectantl
y.
“Oh, and try to look defiant.”
The effect was immediate, and that Henry became more Dominant, more commanding of her attention in return. He filled her vision and her mind with promises and punishments that taunted.
“Put one hand in her hair to tug it back, but Jenna you have to resist.”
They did so, becoming hotter and more overwhelmed with arousal as Viola took her shots, the fistful of hair causing Jenna’s neck to ache, every part of her wanting to give in and yield to his demands of her body.
Her very wet, very pliant body that was just begging for a fuck.
Without warning, her head tipped back and her eyes closed, a small sigh leaving her lips that was complimented by Viola’s murmur of approval.
“Nice.” She offered. “Stay exactly like that.”
Jenna stilled easily, trying not to swallow, aware as she was of the visibility of it from the angle that she was bent back to. Her lips parted a little to allow air in and out and she felt her spine where the back of her head rested. Her throat felt bare, exposed, and her collar bone just begged for Henry to kiss it.
He didn’t, of course, only released her hair upon Viola’s command, closing his legs to resume his full height.
Now, Jenna realised miserably, she knew exactly what it felt like to be Kitty.
“Henry, if you lie down and then Jenna bends backwards so that you can kiss her stomach…”
Henry didn’t so much as blink, only smirk as he lay, supported by Jenna and his forearms as he lifted his torso just enough to brush his lips against her, his face tilted upwards and eyes on hers as they gazed down at him, her back arched. The carpet felt rough against her elbows, tickling, and a cloud of lust spread through her from that one circle; the every breath that fell from his nose and lips. Without prompting he inclined his head so that his nose instead was burrowed against her belly, his forehead too, touching it. Lower now, when he blew out a long, deliberate sigh, it fell scarcely above her clothed sex, exciting her. She could feel him between her thighs, his arms caging her in and his chest spreading her knees. Her heels dug into her behind and her chest rose and fell visibly.
Every single pose drew Henry’s attention, and her own, to a different part of her body, teasing her with an exquisite thoroughness, a slow heating that soon became a throbbing demand inside of her, a loud need that she knew to heat and moisten her core. She lost her shoes and socks, too, by the time Viola was done, and Henry’s bare chest was openly available for her examination, his unbuckled trousers low on his hips.
“Jenna,” Viola asked, her voice all sugar and her cheeks unaffected. “Do you mind asking Amelia and Dominic to come in here?”
“No problem, honey.” Jenna rose unsteadily to her feet and, with no care for the rest of her clothing, wandered hastily out of the hazy room to the bright, well lit café, her bra-clad breasts and bare feet on display for anyone who passed the store. Amelia and Dom were seated beside the large staircase, far from the lusty room that Jenna had just left. “Amelia, Viola says that she’d like you guys to go in now.” She called, a polite tone to her shaky voice as she nodded to Dom. “Don’t mind if I use your toilet, do you?”
She hadn’t asked that in years, simply accepted that yes, she was free reign at Amelia’s, and no, she did not need to behave like a pupil asking teacher for permission. The slow seduction had scrambled her thoughts, and Jenna reverted back to her most basic of behaviours, missing Amelia’s smirk and Dom’s knowing grin as they stood.
She swung the door closed behind her, but did not shut it, only stood before the wide mirror and swept her short hair behind her ears, running her fingers along the tops of her eyebrows as she glared at her flushed, sweaty face. The tap felt cold beneath her shaky, heated fingers, the water refreshing as she splashed it over her face.
When she stood again, she jumped, a yelp loudly echoing around the room, cut short by the hand that tightly clamped over her mouth. Her eyes wide, Jenna stilled, relaxing as she caught sight of her companion in the mirror, desirous and focused as he took in her wide, startled, begging eyes and hollowed cheeks from his hand in her mouth, parting her lips. His free arm was wrapped around her, holding her arms to her sides. His coarse chest hair rubbed against her bared back.
She whimpered against him, struggling slightly to feel the friction of his hard, unyielding body against her own. Her tongue snaked forwards, savouring the salty taste of his flesh and sucking deliberately the offending appendage as though it were another, the rhythmic suction coordinating with her demanding pussy as it clenched tighter, more wantonly as it begged her for something to fill it.
She listened to it, the want, having no other choice in her worked up state other than to stand on tiptoe and rub against him, tilting her hips to rub his bulge coaxingly, locking gazes with his reflection as she wordlessly begged for it.
He spun her, lifting her as easily as a ragdoll and placing her on the edge of the sparkling clean basin. She scooted back a little, feeling the hard edge beneath her buttocks, burrowing into the line where her bottom and thighs met. Henry’s hands held her, warm as he ground insistently against her clothed sex, his calloused fingers drawing scorching patterns along her ribcage. His panting breaths wound her tighter, and she jerked against him without grace or rhythm, her fumbling hands reaching out to scuffle with his jeans, frantically attempting to push them aside. He wore plain black bowers beneath, and Jenna fumbled ineffectively with them before Henry caught her wrists, placing them beside her.
“Don’t move them.” He ordered, and Jenna immediately clutched her hands tight, refusing the move, or wobble off the surface as Henry moved away. He bent over her, lifting her just enough to easily tug her trousers and panties down to her ankles where she kicked them off, spreading her thighs in invitation. With one hand beside her thigh, the other found his clothed cock, removing his boxers swiftly as he fucked her mouth with his tongue. It was without warning that he entered her, both of them tipping their heads back with a loud gasp.
Jenna wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tight to her as she leant away, the cold mirror against the back of her neck forming an erotic contrast to the heat of their bodies and the sheen of sweat that covered her. Every stroke drew her apart, stroking her surely as her lover grunted above her, plucking at her nipples through their thin covering as he intensely pounded into her, his jaw clenched as he watched her pleasured face, offset by effort and small hints of pain.
She cried out easily, uninhibited and certain that no one could hear her. Her head flew forwards and back, tossing as her hair stuck to the back of her damp neck, her eyes drifting in and out of focus as Henry filled her with pleasure, need and submission to him, trust that he would take care of her.
What did it matter if the door was open? If it didn’t bother Henry, then it didn’t bother her. The window, too, while thick and hazy, was opened, allowing any who passed to look through and see her, wantonly spread and dripping as she accepted Henry’s hard cock.
It was the thought of this, of the obscene exhibitionism, the pushed Jenna over the edge, her back arching high and offering her breasts as her cunt pulsed tightly around him, racking her body with movement. Her thighs thumped against the basin as she lifted and fell, coldly bruising her as she loudly cried out, wails and groans as Henry sped up, letting himself go as he bit at her nipples, a low, long groan finishing their coupling. He shuddered against her, and they were still save for their gasping breaths, their chests rubbing against each other as Henry held her tightly to him. He stroked her hair aside and tenderly placed a kiss to her temple before unwinding his arms and drawing away, Jenna giving a couple of pants more before jumping down to join him, quickly replacing her clothing and watching as Henry more leisurely tugged his boxers and jeans back into place. He laughed softly and coaxed her out of the room before him, Jenna following despite the languid, full, dirty feeling that dictated she ought to clean herself up.
But Henry wanted her to move, and so
she did, the large windows seeming daunting, so much so that she could not be drawn away from them, wondering if there was any sign; a wet patch where she had soaked through her clothing; a speck of cum that had fallen astray, and she did not notice Amelia, Dominic, Aaron and Viola, grouped together in front of the curtain, wide grins and unsubtle winks aimed her way. It was Dom’s voice that drew her attention.
“If you’ve made my window filthy, you two are cleaning it.”
Chapter Eight
The festive period came quickly, and with it both a strain and a tinge of excitement on Jenna and Henry’s relationship. Henry went to several interviews each week, searching if only for seasonal work, but with no success. He only grew more frustrated, but their physical relationship grew fuller. He lavished her with attention in the only way that he intensely could, leaving messages in rooms before she entered them and leading her to places where less innocent items lay. Their scenes grew rougher and their kisses sweeter.
He cooked for her when she returned from work, and the Skittles and Doritos became a thing of the past. It cheered her greatly to return home to both a warm meal and a warm man. Even with a cool demeanour, there was no denying that she found him hot.
The air was cool outside, and Jenna felt the freshness of it still on her skin and clothes as she loudly shut the door behind her, dumping her bag and shoes on the floor.
“Henry!” She called out, the smell of sweet spices wafting out of the kitchen towards her. “Mmmm.” She sighed happily as she entered the warm kitchen and immediately melted as he spoke.
“Oh, I do hope that moan was for me.” His voice was deep and dangerous and completely out of place as he cooked, her luminous blue apron tied neatly around his narrow waist. His hair had grown longer in the time that he had spent with her, and it softened him.
Softened him when he was doing something innocent. Enhanced him when he was holding his power over her.
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