Eleanor took a pair of stockings from the dressing table drawer with a sigh. She regretted agreeing to go to the “Jive Like It’s ’45” Tea Dance Julie had organised; there was no going back now she thought while rifling through her wardrobe for a suitable outfit, she’d just have to grin and bear it. Everybody was expected to wear period clothing and Eleanor’s bedroom looked as if a bomb had gone off, her bed was buried under an avalanche of discarded items with more strewn around the floor. Seamed stockings wouldn’t be a problem; Eleanor always wore stockings and had a vast collection. She would be authentic, and wear natural with a black seam running up the back. Admittedly, British girls in the early forties would have been unlikely to get hold of such luxuries, but that wasn’t an issue now, and Eleanor hoped that the same applied to the tea, because if a ration book were required it would surely be the last straw.
She put on a tight black skirt that touched her legs just below the knees. Underneath she wore a black basque, matching panties, choosing a polka dot blouse tied at the neck with a bow, cinched in at the waist with a belt. She decided not to wear earrings; the average woman in the 1940s didn’t have pierced ears. She covered her hair with a black net snood, topped off with a jaunty black felt hat complete with a band of ribbon and a few smart feathers. Eleanor felt she had made a supreme effort, completing the look with brogue style shoes, a slick of red lipstick and a light mist of Chanel No.5, her favoured perfume would have been available having been formulated in the 1920s. Picking up her vintage clutch, she called a cab. She didn’t want to drive. If the mood took her, she might indulge a glass, or two of wine, and it would make the evening pass more pleasantly.
Arriving at the base, Eleanor was amazed to see that the hall set aside for functions was packed with a variety of people dressed in ’40s attire, many of them dancing to the band playing ’40s music. A function was always held in September, to commemorate the end of the Battle of Britain, but this was the first time a themed party had been arranged. Dotted around the edge of the room was an array of stalls displaying myriad period products for sale, original fur stoles and coats, leather gloves, hats of all shapes and sizes, all vintage, one woman was running a stall offering authentic hairdos and makeup to complete the look. Stockings were available in original style packaging, and there was beautiful clothing for men and women. Eleanor bustled through to the group where Julie was holding court to say hello. Julie arranged many functions, as the Wing Commander’s wife it was expected, but she also found pleasure organising everything and everyone, she was in her element at these affairs. Her husband, like many of the others, was often away on tours of duty, but this month and for the next few, the squadron was at home, many of the men were in attendance and most wore the modern RAF mess dress uniform in keeping with this sort of function.
“Hi, Julie, thanks for inviting me, will I do?” said Eleanor, giving her friend a peck on the cheek.
“Fab-U-lous, darling,” replied Julie, absentmindedly returning the kiss, and surveying the room over her friend’s shoulder, always aware of networking duties and always on the lookout for waifs and strays. “Over there beside the kitchen, there’s tea, cake, sandwiches, biscuits, or if you like you can have something stronger at the bar. I hope you enjoy yourself. I’ll catch up with you later. Do you want me to find you a table, or can you sort yourself out?”
“I think I’ll go and look at the stalls. I quite fancy a ’40s hairdo, and it’d be nice to take this hat off. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I’ll come and find you if I get lonely.”
It had taken the beautician more than half an hour to put Eleanor’s hair into a ’40s updo, but the result was stunning, her thick, blonde curls were fastened into an intricate pleat, secured with hairpins. Thrilled with the result and ready for a drink, Eleanor made her way to the bar and ordered a large glass of dry white wine. It was wonderfully chilled, and she enjoyed the feeling flooding from her mouth to her stomach as she swallowed the first few sips. She settled herself onto one of the stools to watch the dancing. The band were playing “The Lambeth Walk” and their leader was giving instructions to dancing couples as they circled in pairs around the dance floor, it didn’t look too complicated, everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves thought Eleanor crossing her legs and draining her glass.
“Buy you another?” said the man now standing next to her. “Matthew Fletcher,” he announced.
“Eleanor Grant. Pleased to meet you. Yes, please, dry white wine would be lovely, thank you.”
“Pleasure. Dry white wine for the lady and Scotch on the rocks for me please.” Matthew took the stool next to hers, and they waited in silence while the barman poured their drinks.
“Cheers. Do you come here often?” The laughing question reached his eyes, crinkling the corners. A perfect smile, white and even, and those eyes were brilliant, dazzling green, fringed with luxurious lashes that would have been the envy of any woman, most would have to buy lashes like his and stick them onto their lids with lash glue. Eleanor tried to concentrate on what he was saying while also trying to work out his age, she reckoned he was perhaps pushing sixty five, more than thirty years her senior. His uniform was pristine, and a perfect fit, she assumed it wasn’t hired or borrowed, he was a Squadron Leader (retired).
“I don’t come here often,” she finally replied. “My friend, Julie…over there,” she pointed, “invited me. She’s always trying to get me involved in various jaunts, most of her work is for charity, so I don’t mind, but I honestly wasn’t looking forward to today,” she smiled.
“I’m glad that you decided to come,” he replied, raising his glass to her in another salute.
“So am I, now.”
The band switched to the much slower tempo of “White Cliffs of Dover” and the Lambeth Walkers left the floor.
“Would you like to dance?”
“Thank you, yes.”
Matthew led her onto the dance floor and took her into his arms in a traditional hold. Eleanor wasn’t very accomplished, but he held her firmly, and she followed his lead, she knew the steps but was rusty.
“I’ve not danced in a long while. I hope I don’t tread on your toes.”
“I doubt I’d even notice, you’re so slim, you’d be light.”
They twirled around for three or four dances. Eleanor could feel a charged atmosphere building between them, she melted quietly into his arms as he held her ever closer, he smelled heavenly, and she fit perfectly into his embrace, their conversation flowed. Thankfully they could hear each other over the music, which although loud wasn’t too intrusive, he was witty, gallant and interesting. Eleanor concluded that he was actually darned impressive.
“Excuse me,” another man interrupted, asking to partner Eleanor. It was difficult to refuse, so Matthew reluctantly gave her up and returned to the bar and his drink.
Blast and damnation, thought Eleanor as she watched him retreat from over her new partner’s shoulder, he’s splendid. His back, clothed in the blue-grey mess dress jacket was broad; she had liked its feel beneath her fingers. She realised he’d had quite an effect on her, but she gave herself up to the rest of the evening, enjoying the dancing.
From time to time, she spotted Matthew chatting to various people, surprising herself by feeling envious when she saw him chatting to an attractive woman. He also spoke to the younger man she had danced with earlier, and another who had asked her to dance too. After that, she didn’t see him again until the band leader announced the last dance when he arrived at her side, holding out his hand to escort her to the floor as the opening bars of “We’ll Meet Again” filled the room.
“I’m relieved that I was able to claim you before the end of the evening. May I see you home?” he said as they glided around the floor.
Eleanor struggled to conceal her delight as she accepted his offer and a fizz of excitement bubbled inside her as the dance ended.
“I’ll just go and find Julie so that I can tell her that I’m leaving, or she’ll wonder where I’ve gone.”
“Don’t be too long. I’m dying to get you alone.”
Eleanor felt light-headed as she hurried across the room in search of Julie.
“Mmm, got an escort home then?” said Julie, looking over at Matthew waiting by the door. “Divine, darling, lucky old you, he’s divorced, his wife must be crazy. I gather from Bob that she went off with a much younger man a while back when Matthew was on his last tour. Oh well, her loss is your gain, have fun.”
“He’s only taking me home, but thanks and thanks for inviting me, see you soon, I’ll call you,” Eleanor replied, struggling to sound nonchalant.
“Make sure you do, darling, I want to hear all about it.”
They waved a parting, Eleanor joined Matthew, and they stepped out together into the night air. Amazingly, she felt extremely horny, almost wanton. She hoped he wouldn’t notice as she took his arm, smiling up into his face.
Matthew escorted her out of the dance hall, they would get a taxi at the entry point of the base; it was a short walk to the guard’s kiosk where they could call for a car. The night air was warm, he put his arm around her, stopping to kiss, they had both had enough to drink to lower their inhibitions, and he took his time and kissed her again, his hands wandering down to her arse, gently squeezing her. She responded passionately, rubbing herself against him, he undid the bow at the neck of her blouse and unfastened the first few buttons, revealing her basque, nuzzling his nose into her neck to inhale her.
“Delightful.” Her perfume assailed his senses, marvelling at the tightly laced satin which encased her body. She didn’t seem concerned when he reached down, slowly untied the ribbons to expose her breasts and bent to suck her nipple, which was hardening with the attention. Eleanor gasped and moaned as he held her nipple between his teeth, tugging and sucking it erect, she made no protest as he undid the waistband of her skirt, putting his hand down inside her panties and running his fingers through her trimmed bush, using his other hand to feel her arse. Thrilled to feel fingers on his hardening cock, her cunt now dripping wet, the juices soaking the inside of her thighs. He used three fingers, sliding them in and out of her rapidly and his thumb to rub her clit.
He became aware that the two men he had spoken to earlier had turned up just as he hoped. Her eyes were closed, but she had sensed their approach and knew that she was being watched. He put his knee between hers opening her legs as wide as the tight skirt allowed.
Moving closer, one of them called out, “You going to fuck her?”
He felt her stiffen, but she continued softly moaning.
“Are you the type of woman who fucks in public?” he said.
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Tell me then, tell me what you are.”
“I’m a slut. A fucking slut. Don’t stop,” she moaned, thrusting back onto his fingers, gasping. She put her hand on top of his, holding it hard against her cunt and jerking on his fingers, close to orgasm.
“Sluts fuck anywhere,” he said, “I’m going to fuck you right here, right now. Lie down on your back and spread your legs.”
Watching as she silently slid to the ground, Matthew saw her fingers slip to her cunt so that she could masturbate.
“Hurry up and fuck me,” she begged.
Rolling up her skirt, he cleared the way to her cunt.
“Spread your legs, slut, get ready for me, I have something here that I know you’re going to love. Spread them wider, much wider. Open them right up, slut, so we can all see you better.”
Gazing at her stocking-clad legs, held with the suspenders of her black basque, he freed his cock from his trousers, and eyeing her fabulous, feminine underwear, decided that she was quite a find. The two men moved closer, Matthew gripped her hips, rubbed his cock along the lips of her pussy, and sliding it up her, fucked her hard in her tight, slippery cunt.
“A slut would be sucking their cocks,” he snarled.
“Yes,” she gasped, “I’d love to suck them. I want to suck their cocks…”
Unzipping their trousers, the men knelt down either side of her head, pushing their cocks towards her face. She took each in turn, sucking one and then the other into her mouth while Matthew fucked her harder and faster, the other men silently wanking. He fucked her until she went rigid, arching her back when she climaxed.
“Come on her face,” said Matthew, continuing to fuck her until he spunked inside her. The two men simultaneously sprayed her with several hard spurts of cum before recovering quickly and vanishing into the dark.
“I don’t believe we just did that,” said Eleanor as Matthew pulled her to her feet and helped her to dress. The base was bristling with CCTV, but they hadn’t worried about the risk.
“Let’s hope nothing’s been recorded,” he said as they walked towards the guardhouse.
Smiling with the pleasure of his secret, Matthew was delighted that he’d read her correctly. During the hiatus of their first dance, in the hope that she’d let him see her home, he’d been able to arrange the reception with the two men who had emerged from the shadows when he first kissed her. It had been easy to select them from the many she had danced with; the two were young, attractive and had obviously enjoyed dancing with her. He congratulated himself on his enterprise and couldn’t have wished for a better outcome. She seemed happy. No harm done. His cock stiffened in his pants again, stirring along with his thoughts.
Meanwhile, Eleanor was struggling with her own dilemma, she couldn’t understand it. She had never done such a risky thing in her life. Fucking in public was hazardous enough, but with a virtual stranger, and worse yet, letting others join in. Turning the situation over in her mind while they waited for the cab, she searched the faces of the guards to see if they had witnessed anything. It looks as if everything is okay, she thought, both chatted normally to Matthew until the car arrived.
Drawing up at her place, she decided not to ask Matthew in, apart from the fact that she felt embarrassed now that the effects of the wine were wearing off, the house was as she had left it earlier when she was getting ready, and enough was enough. He already considered her a slut, no need to make things any worse. As if a few untidy clothes could be any worse. Her face flamed with the prickly heat of regret.
They exchanged numbers, but she had no intention of calling him, she’d never chased a man in her life and didn’t intend to make an exception for this one. He was old enough to be her father. In an agony of mixed emotion, she got undressed, noting the grass stains on the skin of her arse, the stockings and panties were ruined, but she was hopeful that the blouse and skirt could be salvaged.
Later, soaking in the bath sipping a nightcap, things didn’t seem quite as dreadful as they had at first. It was Sunday tomorrow; she could stay in bed until late and rethink her behaviour. She dumped the clothes strewn on the bed onto the floor to join the others, took a sleeping pill, and nestled under the quilt.
The next morning she was woken by the ping of an incoming text. With no idea of the time, she blinked, groggy with sleep at the bright illumination of the tiny screen.
You were magnificent last night, can I see you today? said Matthew’s message.
Instantly alert, she pinged back. Of course.
So much for playing hard to get, she thought while brushing her teeth, anxiously awaiting his reply with the arrangements.
They agreed to meet at midday in the park. She dressed carefully in jeans, pumps, a long white shirt, and waistcoat. Her underwear, a lemon coloured bra and matching panties, trimmed with cream lace and embroidered with tiny deep yellow flowers, the delicate, pale pieces looked fresh and feminine after the siren effect of the black that she had worn previously. She approached the bench beside the duck pond, where he sat, with a picnic basket beside him.
“Hello, want to feed the ducks?” He held out a brown paper bag.
She took the bag and together they threw handfuls of bread into the water, masses of ducks of various sizes scrambled for the food in a frenzy of splashing.
“I enjoyed last night,” he said. “I’ve never done anything like that before,” he lied.
“I can’t believe what we did. It must have been the wine.”
They walked back to the bench, retrieved the picnic basket, and made their way to the edge of the park where there was a copse of trees. The promise of a warm day had been fulfilled; the trees would provide privacy and welcome shade from the sun, which was now at its height.
Accompanied by birdsong, and the gentle rustling of the trees, Matthew opened the basket and laid out a rug, he had packed an assortment of food, chilled Champagne and big, fat, juicy strawberries. Eleanor was impressed, she liked resourceful, thoughtful, men. Although this one was different, much older than her usual type, she was drawn to him, and relaxed as she sipped.
“Let me feed you.” He picked up a lush strawberry.
She parted her lips. He popped the fruit onto her tongue, and she bit down hard, the ripe berry exploded inside her mouth, leaning forward he touched his lips against hers to share the juice. She felt her cunt grow moist as she allowed him to feed her another, the sweet flavour enhanced by the crisp, sparkling wine. He pushed her back onto the rug and moved against her, kissing her passionately; she could feel his hardening cock touching her leg as she responded to his kisses. Reaching down together, they removed her jeans; he opened her shirt and gazed at the confection of underwear.
“Lovely,” he said, “don’t move.”
Smiling to herself, Eleanor kept still on the rug, which felt soft beneath her naked skin, cooling in the slight breeze.
Dipping his hand into the basket, he produced a long feather. Using the tip, starting at the base of her throat and travelling between her breasts, he slowly drew a long line down her body. He paused at her panties, tapping the feather against the sheer cloth.
“Take them off,” he commanded.
Helplessly, Eleanor obeyed.
“Open your legs,” he said, moving the tip of the feather over the top of her trimmed bush, tickling the opening of her cunt, causing her to squirm.
Kneeling between her legs, he used his left hand to open the lips of her cunt, holding the feather in his right; he slowly inserted it until she could feel it high up inside her. Encouraged by her small squeal of pleasure, Matthew began turning the feather around and around so that it tickled the inner walls of her cunt. She arched her back while he relentlessly rotated the feather, he could sense her determination to get a hand to her clit, and it was clear that she wanted to masturbate, desperate to come.
“Keep your hands by your sides,” he ordered, working on her, drawing the feather slowly out of her cunt and reinserting it, pausing to release his cock from its confinement, he held it firmly in his other hand.
“Raise yourself up and open your eyes.”
Obeying him, Eleanor rested on her elbows, watching him masturbate as he continued to use the feather on her.
“Touch yourself.”
Thrilled to oblige, she reclined, moved her fingers down towards her aching clit as he slowly trailed the soaking feather back up her body pushing the tip of it into her mouth for her to taste while they masturbated.
“Do you want me inside you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she gasped, throbbing with lust, the lingering taste of her cunt on her tongue.
“Beg me.”
“Please fuck me, Matthew, please, I want you inside me now.”
He entered her with one hard thrust, the feather falling to the ground beside her head; she kept her fingers on her clit masturbating as he pushed into her harder and faster. She could feel her orgasm approaching as she touched her clit using small, circular caresses with one hand, clutching the back of his neck with the other, and his skin felt hot to her touch. She reached orgasm in the few seconds before he shot his spunk into her with a grunt of satisfaction. Spent, his cock softened and slipped out of her cunt, followed by a rush of cum, which soaked the inside of her thighs.
Pouring the last of the Champagne into their glasses, Matthew quietly toasted her before tidying everything away. Walking back the way they had come, they headed to their respective homes, arranging their next meeting as they parted. She had invited him to dinner at her place for the following evening and was already looking forward to it as she hurried home, flushed from sex and Champagne.
Goodness knows how I’ll do a day’s work tomorrow she thought as she let herself into her house, she had a shift which she wouldn’t be able to swap, the hospital was understaffed as it was. She had better press her uniform tonight, she wouldn’t have time the next day before early turn, and at least she’d be home by four, which would leave plenty of time to prepare. The answerphone was flashing, but she couldn’t be bothered to check it, that’ll wait until tomorrow she decided as she ran her nightly bath.
The next day, Eleanor arrived home from work laden with shopping, determined to cook a fabulous meal. She had no time to lose, Matthew was due at eight, and she hadn’t even started. First, she laid the table, it looked pretty, covered with a crisp, white cloth, and she placed a colourful bunch of small, scented flowers in a silver bowl at the centre of the table. A matching pair of silver bowls filled with perfumed water, and floating candles stood on either side of the centrepiece. She set the house lights low; the soft light enhanced the impact of the overall effect. The answerphone was still blinking, displaying the legend, 3 messages, but with no time to check it, it would have to wait. If it was urgent, there was always her mobile, but she hadn’t heard it ring or ping so whatever it was couldn’t be important.
She busied herself with the meal, Horiatiki salad with warm rolls to start. Eleanor liked to use recipes that she could prepare in advance, which needed minimum attention. She had chosen to make her signature dish of luscious, hearty Irish stew for the main course; it could be left to bubble for ages and still tasted superb. For dessert, a slightly more risky Pavlova, which she’d decided to chance, if it went well it would be a triumph and she felt confident as she bustled around putting the final touches together.
Happy that everything was under control in the kitchen, Eleanor went upstairs and changed into a stunning purple dress with a plunging neckline that displayed her firm, round breasts. She didn’t bother with a bra, but wore a waspie of the same hue, decorated with black embroidered flowers, fastening the suspenders onto black stockings. She chose sheer black panties, which displayed her pale arse cheeks through the semi-transparent cloth, completing the look with high, black patent stilettos and a pair of jet earrings. Leaving her hair tumbling in soft curls around her shoulders, checking her reflection, Eleanor was satisfied with the overall effect and went downstairs to make sure that everything was under control.
He arrived punctually carrying a small holdall and a huge bouquet of flowers.
“I’ve been to the gym.” He indicated the bag, before handing her the exquisite blooms.
“Thank you, they’re beautiful. I do hope I’ve got enough vases to do them justice,” said Eleanor, making her way to the kitchen to put them in water.
“The food smells delicious,” he called after her.
Eleanor returned with cocktails, a Velvet Kiss for him with an extra shot of Gin and a Silk Stockings for herself. No need to mention the treble Tequila that she’d put into her own glass. She sat beside him, feeling a little nervous as she sipped her drink hoping it would hit the spot.
“This is for you,” he said, handing her a slim black box, “by way of a thank you for giving me so much pleasure over the last couple of days.”
It wasn’t Eleanor’s style to be twee about gifts, she loved receiving them. Her delight was obvious. She opened the box to reveal a stunning charm bracelet nestled on a bed of satin; it consisted of intricate, linked loops in white gold. Eleanor lifted it out, attached to one of the bracelet’s rings was a small charm.
“Thank you, Matthew. It’s exquisite. Help me to put it on will you?” She offered her wrist.
“I like these,” he said, fastening the clasp, indicating the loops of the bracelet yet to be adorned. “They have so much potential.” He sealed his words with a kiss, planted on the inside of her perfumed wrist.
Closer inspection revealed that the charm was a tiny, heart-shaped padlock.
“It’s fabulous, thank you, you’re too generous,” she said, kissing him warmly on the mouth.
The meal passed in a haze of lively, flirtatious conversation. Obviously an experienced player, he told her that he had been divorced for fifteen years, and she didn’t let on that she had already heard the gossip about the way his wife had left him.
Matthew didn’t seem bothered about the failure of his marriage and told her that it hadn’t been entirely unexpected. They had married young, had no kids and eventually grown apart. His career took him all over the world, he was away more often than not, his wife had grown bored, found someone else, and she had remarried quite some time ago.
Leaving out the salacious details, Eleanor explained that she didn’t like being tied down, had grown accustomed to spending time with a number of men. As a nurse at the military hospital, she met loads of different people, dates were never difficult to arrange, she lived life to the full, but she hadn’t been lying when she told him that the experience they had shared after the dance was a first.
Listening to her speak, Matthew quietly calculated how far he could take her sexually, wondering how far she would be prepared to go.
Leaving the dining table, moving over to the squashy sofa, Eleanor carried the coffee, mints, and brandy to the low table in front of their seats. She sloshed a generous amount of liquor into the coffee finishing off with a glug of cream.
“To imaginative games.” He raised his cup to her in a toast.
She echoed the sentiment as they sipped. The intoxicating heat of the coffee tasted fantastic through the cool of the cream, and she felt the fire of the brandy racing through her veins.
“Do you mean it?” he said. “Imaginative games can be challenging and fun, but they can also bring the unexpected. Are you prepared to trust me, Eleanor?”
Alert to the changed atmosphere now charged with expectation, Eleanor was silent for a moment as she formulated her reply; knowing that she needed to answer carefully.
“The truth is that I’m not terribly sure,” she said. “I know it seems silly, but I’ve been curious about whether the two men who appeared in the grounds of the base on the first night were there by chance, or if you actually set me up? As I said earlier, I’ve never done anything like that before, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
“You’re stunning, Eleanor. You’re classy, and you have guts and style. I like that in a woman,” he replied, avoiding the question.
She remained silent.
“Would you like me to show you some of the things that I like women to do? Would you like to try a little game with me now?”
Taking a massive gulp of her spiked coffee, Eleanor nodded; her eyes sparkled from the effects of the alcohol, her cheeks flushed with anticipatory colour.
Putting his drink down, Matthew took hers from her, placed them both out of the way on the table, and pulled her across his lap all in one fluid movement. Without further warning, he lifted her dress up to her waist. She had already started to writhe, excited but bewildered. She wasn’t used to this sort of treatment.
Suddenly, he brought the flat of his hand down with incredible force smacking her arse soundly three times in quick succession and striking her arse cheeks in exactly the same place, the noise was astonishing. By the time the last contact was made between palm and arse, the stinging was intense, and she yelped with pain.
Nevertheless, to her amazement, she felt her cunt moistening with lust, her juices flooding her panties.
“Stop, Matthew. Please, stop. It hurts.”
“I know that you love it, I can feel your wet cunt,” he replied, pulling down her panties, inserting a finger into her from behind.
Writhing as he fingered her with one hand, holding her down across his knees with the other, her body pressed firmly into his lap so that she could feel his hard cock against her through the scratchy material of his jeans. Eleanor’s arse bucked when he began smacking again, the blows were severe, he grunted with exertion each time his hand made contact with her soft skin.
“Still hurting, or do you like it now?” he paused for a moment, “how does it feel to have the palm of my hand stinging your cute little arse?”
“It truly hurts, Matthew.” Eleanor was breathless, wriggling on his lap, which only served to heighten his excitement.
“You need further training,” he said, bringing his hand down mercilessly.
“Say, ‘thank you’,” he ordered. “Every time I hit your arse, I want you to say ‘thank you’. If you don’t, I’ll smack you much, much harder.”
Eleanor felt a shiver of fear, mixed with the warmth of elation, she could do this she thought, but she was all over the place and reeling with pain.
“Thank you,” she murmured as his hand found its target again with a loud smack.
She had lost count of the number of times that he’d struck her, “thank you,” she said again and again, increasingly louder. He seemed tireless, beating her burning arse.
“Ow!” Eleanor bucked up beneath his hand and he stopped to remove her panties, which had tangled at her knees hindering his progress.
“You don’t sound enthusiastic enough, say, ‘thank you, that’s wonderful, Matthew’, say it like you mean it, and count. Count the smacks,” he growled, bringing his hand down again three times in quick succession.
Flooded with adrenaline and warmed with the intensity of the thrashing, Eleanor could feel her cunt getting wetter, the warmth from her glowing arse cheeks started to travel through her veins. Her head was spinning, and she could feel the first tentative tingling of an orgasm building within her.
Eleanor shouted out, “One, ahh, two, ahh, three, ahh. Thank you, oh, Matthew, thank you, thank you, please, please don’t stop.”
Without ceremony, he stopped, tumbling her off his lap onto the carpet.
“Stay down there on your knees,” he said, opening his fly and releasing his cock. “Suck it, and don’t stop until I tell you, or I’ll have to spank you again.”
Leaning forward, Eleanor took his hard cock into her mouth. Grabbing a fistful of her hair in one hand, he masturbated into her mouth with the other. She could taste the salty cream of his cum oozing from him, struggling to take him fully into her throat as he pushed her head down, she kept her teeth covered with her lips and completely enclosed his cock, accommodating him in the moist warmth, moving up and down mirroring the action of his hand on his shaft.
Using what little power she had, she gripped him firmly between her lips, she wanted to make sure that she didn’t snag him with her teeth, even though he deserves it, she thought as she felt the cheeks of her arse smarting. At least she managed to get a hand to her cunt so that she could rub her clit, which was aching with the need for relief while he continued masturbating, rubbing his cock harder and harder into her mouth.
“Get ready, I’m going to come,” he told her, pushing her head down onto his cock, shooting several spurts deep into her throat.
He held her head firmly onto him until she swallowed every last drop, before allowing her to flop down beside the settee, she had not been able to come herself, having been on the verge of orgasm when he shot his load.
“Wait there, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Motionless on the floor, reeling from the intensity of the last few minutes, she had lost track of time since he pulled her across his knees. Her cunt was still tingling, and she needed to come, but felt apprehensive when he disappeared into the hall. Goodness knows what he’s up to now she thought, and a small shiver goose-bumped her skin.
“Clear the table sweetheart,” he said, reappearing with his holdall. “I’ve got some things to show you. Take everything out into the kitchen except the candles. We can put them on the coffee table, the light is lovely, and they smell delightful too, though not as good as you.”
Welcoming the chance to readjust her clothes, Eleanor tidied the remains of their meal away. She took the opportunity to pour herself a massive brandy and downed it in one before she went back to join Matthew.
“Would you like to try this?” he asked, holding up a short bamboo cane with a hook handle while continuing to take other equipment out of his bag. There were blindfolds, a paddle, handcuffs, gags, a dog collar, massage oils and lube. Astounded but silent, Eleanor watched as he pushed the coffee tray to one side and laid out the paraphernalia on the low table.
“I’ve got quite a treat for you,” he said. Taking her hand, he led her over to the dining table, moved the chairs out of the way and pointed to her dress.
“Take it off. Let me show you how much pleasure these few items can bring.”
“Matthew, I’m not sure about this...”
Ignoring her, he continued, “Leave the rest on,” he indicated her underwear and shoes. “Lie down on the table, get right onto it, face down.”
Hesitating, Eleanor looked at him and opened her mouth to protest.
Pressing a finger to her lips, he hissed, “If you don’t do as you’re told how will we find out what you like? Don’t you want to please me? I meant what I said over dinner.”
Doing a swift calculation, she considered their conversation when he’d outlined some of his plans for the future, and quickly decided that she may as well continue. After all, they’d come this far. Suppressing a shiver Eleanor silently complied; the table cold against her skin.
Taking four long pieces of rope from the bag, Matthew tied each of them to the legs of the table, fastening her limbs spread-eagled. Face down. Standing back, he admired his handiwork. He’d used soft rope, which wasn’t too thin; he didn’t want it to cut into her if she struggled.
“I just need to get a few photos, you don’t mind do you?”
“I’d actually rather that you didn’t take pictures, Matthew. I’m not at all sure about this…”
“I see,” he said, gagging her with a ball gag. “It’s rather too late for protest I’m afraid, you’ll simply have to do as I say.”
Using a stills camera and video Matthew took a number of shots making small adjustments until he was happy with the result. He pushed the lens right up between her legs to record her lush cunt and her cute, hard little clit. He photographed her glowing arse cheeks, taking a wide shot of her body spread out invitingly on the table, and dipping a finger into the slit of her cunt, put it into his mouth and licked.
“Mmm, tastes divine.”
Finally, he took a picture of her mouth. Lips wide open encasing the black ball of the gag. Shouldn’t be too uncomfortable he thought. It’s only golf ball size. Anyway, she certainly looks fucking sexy. His cock stiffened again. Feeling proud of his recovery time, he put the cameras safely out of the way. He’d review his photographic work later. There were more pressing needs to satisfy now.
Looking at her lying splendid, immobilised on her dining room table, Matthew was pleased that he hadn’t tied the bonds too tightly. He didn’t particularly want to hurt her. Nevertheless, he had made certain that the ropes would tighten if she struggled, being an expert with knots was ideal for his fetishes. Standing in front of her, slowly rubbing his rock hard cock, he considered his options. First, he got the spanking paddle, it was black and smooth on one side with myriad raised metal studs on the other. Starting with the smooth side he brought the paddle down onto her arse with a resounding smack, she bucked up, and he was pleased that he had left a bit of play in the restraints.
“Do you like it, Eleanor? Have you developed a taste for it yet?”
Quickly nodding her head to indicate, yes, she hoped that he’d take off the gag. The ball felt uncomfortable in her mouth, and it didn’t taste pleasant either.
“I need to be sure,” he said, and brought the paddle down again, the smooth side striking her arse repeatedly as he counted aloud to ten.
“More?” he asked. “Nod, please. ‘Yes’ is the correct answer.”
Nodding, she squeezed her eyes closed. Thank goodness, she’d had that last slug of brandy, she felt slightly woozy, but the intoxicating liquor softened the pain. Matthew turned the paddle over delivering five sharp smacks in quick succession with the studded side. Silent tears slid down Eleanor’s face. Tasting their salt as they trickled into her gagged mouth, she felt the tension of excitement beginning to mount again, causing a knot of lust in the pit of her stomach.
“You love it don’t you? You’re a proper slut, what a revelation. When I first saw you sitting at that bar, you looked as if butter wouldn’t melt, but now look at you. Perfect,” he exclaimed, counting out another five severe blows before putting the paddle down and removing the gag.
“Don’t talk, just listen. I’ve taken the gag off because I want you to suck my cock again. After you have done that to my satisfaction, I’ll untie you, is that understood? Now you’ve got a proper taste for me, I can see that you’re excited in spite of yourself, I think that you’re going to enjoy this evening, and we’ve got all night.”
After she indicated her compliance, he removed the gag. Deciding to blindfold her, he loosened off the bonds on her wrists so that she could lift herself up from the table, making it easier to take his cock as he pushed it into her mouth. Moving in and out, his hands on his hips, he watched his cock disappearing into her mouth rhythmically. Occasionally looking along the length of her body, he relished the sight of the red wheals making an appearance on the creamy skin of her arse.
She looked cracking, her eyes covered with the wide, black, silk cloth of the blindfold, he continued sliding his cock in and out of her warm, accommodating throat. Her tongue darted and slurped the helmet of his cock in sublime circuits. His balls had started to ache; her perfume and the scent from the candles she had lit earlier permeated the atmosphere, filling his nostrils, tingling. The sensation was thrilling. He’d have to stop, or he’d come, and there was still so much he wanted to show her. He wasn’t ready to finish yet. He pulled his cock out of her mouth and moved away.
“I want to tie you the other way up, but I’d prefer it if you were laid out on your bed,” he said. “I am going to untie you and put a collar around your neck, attached to it will be a lead. I intend to take you to your bedroom, you will do as you are told, or I will have to apply severe punishment.”
“All right,” whispered Eleanor. Her mouth ached from being held open, first by the ball gag and then by his cock, but her cunt had started to clench again with anticipatory spasms.
The smell of sex was evident in the air between them, adding to the mixture of emotion stimulating her in a way that she’d never felt before. Standing blindfold in her underwear and shoes, filled with excitement, Eleanor allowed Matthew to fix a wide, leather collar, studded with tiny metal stars around her neck and attach a short leather lead.
“Wait there for a moment,” he ordered while he gathered his stuff into the bag.
Picking up the lead, he tugged firmly forcing her to follow him up the stairs.
“Which room?”
“Straight ahead.”
He pushed open the door and led her inside.
“Kneel down on the bed,” he ordered.
Eleanor obeyed while Matthew undressed. Fastening the loop end of the lead to the bedpost, he got a harness out of his bag, pushing her forward a little; he put it around her hips. It was velvet soft against her skin and even though she was anchored to the bed, Eleanor relaxed. Kneeling behind her, holding each of the harness handles in his hands, Matthew took up the slack, holding her firmly in front of him.
“Lean forward. You’re wearing the collar and lead, so I’m going to fuck you hard, doggie. You’re going to love it so much, you’ll be screaming for more.”
Leaning forward, she allowed Matthew to resettle her weight in the harness and enter her from behind. Bracing herself against the bed she managed to get one of her hands to her clit as he fucked her doggie with powerful, deep thrusts made possible by the harness. He certainly knows what he’s doing she thought as she felt him pounding into her. She massaged her clit with circular movements that mirrored his pace as her orgasm approached.
She wasn’t sure about the restrictive collar, but she certainly liked the depth of penetration of cock in her cunt. The blindfold heightened her other senses, and when she climaxed, she felt his pace increase before he shot his load into her, pushing her face down into the mattress.
Spent, Matthew dropped the handles of the harness, undid the collar from Eleanor’s neck, and gently removed the blindfold.
“Is that your thing?” she asked. “Is that how you always like your sex?”
She snuggled into his arms.
“Most of the time,” he said, “I enjoy being in charge, unfortunately, many of the women I meet don’t like it, so it’s difficult to find someone to play with. I have plenty of other games if you’re willing to try a few with me. I feel sure that you and I can go a long way together.”
Eleanor considered the last few explosive orgasms she had experienced while this man fucked her. It was true that he was probably far too old for her, but he was generous, and he’d awoken something within her previously undiscovered, she was exhausted but elated and decided that his potential far outweighed the disadvantages of his age and sexual preferences. She still suspected that he had set her up on the first night they met, but the sex had been fantastic. Yes, overall, not bad at all she thought, making her decision and nodding in answer to his question, she burrowed down in his arms to sleep.
Much later, Eleanor heard the phone ringing, heard the click as the answerphone picked up the call, heard her own voice announcing her absence, and heard the click again as the caller hung up without leaving a message. Moments later, she heard her mobile ringing followed by the ping of a text.
Julie snapped her phone shut, dropping it back into her bag. Dammit. She had been trying to contact Eleanor since the dance. It was unusual for her not to answer her mobile. Still, even though there was no point in leaving another message on the landline, she’d sent a text, Eleanor was sure to pick that up. Julie decided that she was probably overreacting in any case, after all, it was unlikely that all the gossip she’d heard about Squadron Leader Fletcher was true. Idle chitchat was rife on the base and invariably exaggerated. He would have to be crazy to indulge in that sort of behaviour so close to home and with base personnel. None the less, if Eleanor didn’t contact her by tomorrow, she would call around to the house and leave a note. Meanwhile, she may as well go and relax for the evening. There was nothing more she could do tonight.
oOo
When she awoke the next day Eleanor kept still, slowly becoming aware that her arse was bruised and painful, her wrists and ankles smarted like hell, her jaw ached, and her cunt was tingling with warmth. Realising he had left, she gingerly opened her eyes, cautiously sitting up, she looked around the room; spotting an envelope on the dressing table, she got out of bed to retrieve it. Tearing it open revealed a wallet, which held a pair of airline tickets. She popped open the flap and discovered they were for Venice, departing the following Friday, stuck on top of one of them was a post-it note that read:
I’ll collect you at midday, don’t be late, I’ve booked us into a beautiful hotel on the Lido de Venezia, pack appropriate clothing for a long weekend, in and out of bed.
Smiling, she put the tickets safely into her handbag, removed her new bracelet, and went downstairs to clear up. This is going to be quite a journey, she thought as she surveyed the detritus of the previous evening.
When she checked her mobile, Eleanor saw that Julie had left a message.
I’ve been trying to ring you for days, where are you? Please call me when you get this, love Julie x.
It’s been a hectic few days, sorry I haven’t been in touch, I can meet you this evening if you like - after my shift x. Eleanor pressed send.
Ok. See you at nine at Hunter’s Bar.
oOo
“Darling, at last. What have you been up to for the last few days? I’ve been beside myself,” said Julie, giving Eleanor a warm hug.
“Oh, I’ve had a busy few days at work, and I had a couple of dates with Matthew, we went to the park, he came to dinner. You know…the usual sort of stuff.”
“Hmmm, I see, well, you just be careful around Squadron Leader Fletcher. I’ve heard that he plays the field and can be a bit of a handful, I’d feel dreadful if he hurt you, Eleanor. After all, if I hadn’t insisted that you come to the dance the other night, you’d probably never have met him.”
“How strange,” said Eleanor, “he’s been a perfect gentleman with me.”
No matter how much she wanted to talk about Matthew, she had decided that she wasn’t going to share her recent experiences with anyone. Some things are best kept private she thought, with a pang of guilt about deceiving her friend.
Unaware of Eleanor’s discomfort, Julie blithely continued. “Loaded you know, absolutely loaded. His parents were massively wealthy, and when they died, they left everything to Matthew. Bob says that he has invested it wisely, filthy rich apparently, so as I said at the dance, lucky old you. If you can handle him.”
“He’s lovely, a real sweetie. He’s taking me to Venice this weekend, and I’m looking forward to it. Honestly, he’s an absolute pussycat. I’m sure that any gossip you’ve heard has been from disgruntled old flames or something like that.”
“Hmm, methinks that you protest a little too much,” said Julie. “Aren’t you worried about the age difference, Eleanor? He is sixty if he’s a day, that’s such a big gap, darling.”
“For goodness sake, Julie, we’re having a few dates, enjoying ourselves, there’s nothing more to it than that. You know that I like keeping my options open, please don’t go on about it, it’s boring. Anyway, let’s change the subject. I’m sure that you’ve got loads to tell me, how’s Bob getting on at work since his promotion?”
“Very well, darling, we’ll change the subject, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. You know where I am if it all ends in tears. You tend to be such a poor judge, darling, you know I only have your best interests at heart,” sighed Julie, pouring them each a glass of red wine and settling down for the rest of the evening.
Eleanor couldn’t help thinking about Julie’s words, the fact that her friend was so worried meant that she set store by the gossip, and Eleanor knew from her own experience with Matthew that some of it was likely to be true. On the other hand, why worry? There was no harm done so far, and she liked him. Anyway, she could look after herself. Snapping back to the present, she sipped her wine and tried to concentrate on Julie’s chatter.
oOo
Matthew didn’t get in touch again until the morning of their departure, which was a blessing because Eleanor had to work extra shifts in order to call in a few favours and get cover for the weekend. She had also busied herself shopping for new underwear and a few items of clothing, which she had packed neatly into her weekend bag, no doubt he’d planned everything else; she shivered with anticipation.
Arriving promptly to collect her in a taxi, Matthew complimented her warmly as he helped her into the car. Eleanor had chosen wide legged gunmetal grey trousers with a matching jacket, a soft red jumper and boots, she had tied her hair back into a sweet ponytail, which bobbed about as she moved, wearing the barest touch of makeup, her signature scent filled his senses as she settled into the seat. Taking her hand in his, Matthew felt proud, noticing the appreciative eyes of the driver in the mirror, constantly glancing back at Eleanor as he drove to the airport.
oOo
As their flight descended to the Venetian runway of Marco Polo Airport, Eleanor marvelled at all the tiny islets, nestled in the Lagoon settlement and the numerous vessels bustling the waterways. They arrived while it was still light, and the hotel had sent a private launch, which was waiting to transfer them from the airport for their stay. Eleanor had been to Venice before and had thought it magnificent, her memory hadn’t played tricks on her, she was breathless with awe as the vessel gathered speed and whizzed them past the iconic vistas to the hotel.
Eleanor surveyed the surroundings of the superb hotel with undisguised awe, surrounded by stunning gardens, lush with colourful, flourishing plants, an inner courtyard flowing water, led to a set of steps, which in turn opened out into the grandeur of the hotel reception. The lobby replete with cool, marble floors, adorned with vases filled with fresh, beautiful flowers, artistically displayed, fabulous works of art were hanging on the walls, sculptures rested on plinths beneath magnificent archways, leading to the rest of the hotel.
Situated in an area away from the busiest parts of Venice, it was the best on this island, and Matthew knew that it would be perfect for their stay. He impressed Eleanor, first by speaking fluent Italian with the clerk checking them in and then by having booked a suite that boasted two balconies overlooking the gardens, beyond which lay the sparkling Adriatic Sea.
Once in their room, he poured them each a drink from the minibar while they waited for the porter to bring their luggage.
“Do you like it?”
“It’s simply lovely,” she replied, “this room is palatial,” she continued over her shoulder, opening one of the sets of double doors, and stepping out onto the balcony. The sun had dipped out of sight, and it was growing dark.
The porter arrived with their cases, took his tip and left.
“We’ll eat downstairs tonight,” said Matthew, “we can go out early tomorrow by launch to Piazza San Marco before it gets busy, it won’t be too crowded at this time of year. The waterbuses are okay, but they’re always packed, so we may as well take advantage of the privacy of taxis.”
Listening from her vantage point on the balcony, Eleanor happily agreed, the taxis would take them more or less anywhere they wanted to go, they would have freedom to explore. She preferred this time of year too, this part of Europe was still warm, balmy rather than hot, she loved the last of the summer flowers, their scent hanging in the air, inhaling deeply she looked out toward the sea.
At supper that night, Matthew was pleased that the attentive staff were clearly charmed by Eleanor who looked beautiful in a deep red, jersey dress with a demurely high neck. The fabric was soft and draped fluidly from her trim waist to her ankles. Completing the look with flat, red leather pumps, wearing simple, pearl studs in her ears, her splendid hair gathered up into an intricate clasp-like device, which Matthew fantasised about unfastening and allowing her pale curls to tumble around her shoulders.
The knowledge that she hadn’t put on any underwear gave him the first stirrings of an erection while he contemplated what he’d like to do with her later. He adored her hair either up or down, but delighted in bunching it in his hands while shagging her from behind. His cock stiffened, his thoughts wandering to her pert arse and the way it looked when she was prone beneath his thrusts. He hurried them through the rest of the meal, desperate to take her back up to their room.
Unlocking the door to their suite he said, “Go out onto the balcony, Eleanor, I will join you shortly.”
Eleanor stepped through the doors leading to the balcony, which was surrounded with a stone balustrade just a few inches or so higher than her waist, the wall was large and solid, and she leaned onto it and looked down into the gardens below. She could smell the trees and other fragrances in the night air.
Matthew approached.
“Don’t look around,” he warned.
He had stripped naked and was standing close behind her.
Eleanor remained motionless, but he saw her shoulders stiffen a little.
Moving forward, Matthew lifted the skirt of her dress up over her arse and held it against her shoulders. Eleanor’s creamy, lush arse cheeks glowed in the darkness; he knelt down in homage and parted them. It looks just like a large, ripe peach he thought as he stared at her puckered little arsehole. Making a decision, he dropped the dress and stood up again.
“Wait there,” he told her, disappearing back into their room, returning almost immediately. “Hold your dress up.”
Still leaning on the balcony wall, she obeyed, holding her dress up to her waist, she invariably did as Matthew bid, and she had discovered that her desires had begun to mirror his.
“Lean forward. Keep the dress raised.”
Bending as far forward as the balcony wall would allow, Eleanor offered up her arse to him, she had not said a word since she had stepped out through the doors into the night air.
Gently pulling the cheeks of her arse apart with one hand he applied lube to her puckered hole with the other.
“Ooo, Matthew, that’s cold.”
“Sshhh…” He massaged the gel into her arsehole, gently inserting his thumb as she squirmed against him.
Moving down, he pushed his nose up against her and started to use his tongue to lick and probe her tight little hole, using his other hand he expertly massaged her clit, occasionally inserting his middle finger a little way up her cunt. Eleanor tried to stand still; in the gardens beneath them, one or two couples were strolling around arm in arm. She wasn’t sure what could be seen or heard from below, and although she tried not to make a sound, she was struggling to stay quiet as his tongue and fingers continued to do their work on her arse and cunt.
Matthew had stopped his divine licking and probing, she heard him tearing something like foil, he was opening a packet, and she realised it was a condom; he was going to bugger her. Hoping that she’d be able to accommodate him, she sensed him rolling the rubber onto his cock, shivering a little with anticipation. Sheathed, Matthew stood up, firmly opened her well-oiled, peachy little hole and prepared to push his cock into her arse.
“Be gentle, Matthew, please,” she begged, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to take it.”
“Sshhh, there’s a good girl, you’ll love it, you’ll see.” He pushed the head of his cock against her arsehole, which initially tightened against him.
“Relax, babe, I’ll be careful.”
Concentrating on relaxing, she felt him making room by using one of his fingers to open her sufficiently to push the head of his cock a little way into her. Taking gulps of the night air, feeling the residual warmth of the day on her skin, Eleanor felt the latex covered head of his cock pushing its way inside the tight sheath of her arse.
“Hold on, babe, I’m going bury myself into you now, relax, sshhh, just relax,” said Matthew, as he bore down. At last, he was right up to the hilt in her arsehole, and she felt his balls slap against her.
Clenching spasms moved between her arse and cunt, sending waves of lust coursing through her body, she felt stretched, full, it was incredible, she had never had anything up her arse before, and she was proud that she had been able to take his cock fully inside her tight sphincter.
“Mmm, God, you feel so tight, so glorious, babe. Hold on, I won’t last long, you’re gorgeous, you know that don’t you?”
Breathing raggedly, he held her hips and moved gently inside her, he didn’t draw his cock right out, he knew it could be hard to take that way the first time, but he’d have her begging him to bugger her in the future if he got this right. He was beside himself with lusty pleasure as he shagged her arse against the balcony wall of their suite. He could hear people walking around the gardens below them; he was fired up, and unable to hold on any longer, releasing his spunk in an explosion of orgasm, pumping into the condom with an inward shout of satisfaction as she sagged back against him. He knew that she hadn’t come, she hadn’t made any noise, either with pleasure or in pain, but he was confident that she had liked being buggered.
“Let’s go in, sweetheart,” he said, “I’ll run you a bath and pour us a drink.”
Letting him lead her inside, Eleanor didn’t reveal that she’d found the arse fuck surprisingly pleasurable. She didn’t intend to tell him how fantastic it had felt, not yet anyway.
Later, as they shared the enormous Jacuzzi bath, sipping Champagne, she rested against the cool sides and considered her luck. Earlier that evening, she had been thrilled when he’d presented her with a fabulous pair of diamond earrings and a matching choker.
“Much nicer than a dog collar, sweetheart but maybe not quite as much fun,” he’d said giving her the magnificent jewels. “Don’t put them on tonight. I want you to wear them for me on our last night in Venice.”
“Oh, Matthew they’re breathtaking, thank you,” she’d said, “I will.”
The next day Matthew phoned down to order breakfast in bed. The waiters arrived with a laden table, which they wheeled inside. The aroma of coffee filled the room, mixing with the warm scents drifting in from the gardens. He hadn’t missed the fact that one of the young men lingered, it certainly wasn’t for the tip, which Matthew had already generously provided. Following the direction of the lad’s stare Matthew realised that his gaze was fixed on Eleanor, propped up in bed reading a guidebook.
Hmm, thought Matthew, she did look sweet with her tousled fair hair and those lovely creamy shoulders, the promising breasts snug beneath the luxurious coverlet. He looked back at the lad, who realising that he’d been caught staring, flushed bright red, and started to back away towards the door.
“Grazie.”
“Mille grazie.”
“Prego.”
“Servirci anche domani per favour,” Matthew called after him.
“Si, Signore, Si.”
“He seems like an eager lad,” said Matthew.
“Mmm,” replied Eleanor, getting out of bed to join him for breakfast. “I’m ravenous.” She tucked into a bowl of fresh fruit salad, guidebook propped up beside her, and while Matthew poured their coffee, they discussed their prospects for the day ahead.
“Listen to this,” she said as she read aloud from the book, “‘The island of San Michele, located in the lagoon close to Venice, has been the city’s cemetery (cimitero) since the early nineteenth century. As Venice is an island community, it is not surprising that its graveyard is also an island, although the notion may seem odd at first. Formerly two islands, which are now joined together, the Isola di San Michele (St. Michael) is dedicated to the dead and is occupied only by churches and by long ranks of tombs.’ It sounds fascinating, Matthew.”
oOo
They spent the day sightseeing. Matthew asked the driver of the launch to go past the cemetery island of San Michele, which Eleanor had mentioned over breakfast when she had been reading about the island community of Venice. Now, as they glided past the wall which encircled the island, large gates dominating the centre, tall trees visible behind, she was deep in thought and seemed pensive. Matthew didn’t want to dwell too long and nodding a signal to the driver they picked up speed and headed away from San Michele toward the island of Burano. Matthew wanted Eleanor to see some of the quieter, less visited islands of Venice, the pretty island with its colourful houses would be ideal for a quiet lunch. They disembarked, and he arranged that the driver collect them later.
Eleanor was enchanted with the island’s little lanes, alleyways and small canals, the shops selling unique, locally produced lace fascinated her, many of them had women sitting outside their doorways making intricately delicate items. Matthew bought Eleanor a handkerchief as a souvenir before they went to lunch in one of the small cafes. Later, heads muzzy from the lunchtime wine, they met their driver who whisked them back across the water to their hotel stop on the quayside.
Wandering back along the street to their hotel, they passed the impressive building, which housed the Hungarian spa.
“Would you like to try the spa later?” Matthew asked.
“Yes please, it looks fantastic and would be so relaxing.”
“Wait here, I’ll pop in and book us an appointment,” he replied, running back along the street and bounding up the wide steps to the Spa’s reception.
oOo
That evening, relaxed from the fabulous dual massage they’d enjoyed at the Spa which offered an array of treatments, they walked the short distance back to their hotel, it was their last night in Venice and Matthew had ordered that a cold supper be served in their room, he hoped that it would be waiting on their return. He wasn’t disappointed; the table had been wheeled in, groaning under the weight of a splendid buffet. Impressed, Matthew pulled Eleanor’s chair out for her, poured them each a drink, and made a toast.
“To us, past, present and future,” he said, raising his glass.
The realisation that he wanted her to be part of his future sent a shiver of excitement tingling down Eleanor’s spine. Having already decided that she would like to become a more permanent fixture in his life she was delighted that the feeling was mutual and met his eyes with a smile.
“Go and put on your diamonds, sweetheart,” he said, “take everything else off.”
While Eleanor did his bidding, Matthew rang down to arrange collection of the table with the remains of their meal. The massage had left them sated, but he couldn’t wait to see her in the gems. She reappeared naked, long limbed, glorious, large but firm breasts, her tiny waist and gently curving hips looked magnificent. Her skin glowed, her hair upswept, the diamonds sparkled in her ears, and at her throat, the overall effect was superb, causing his cock to ache in his pants.
“Sit on the chair over there. Open your legs.”
Sitting in one of the armchairs, she brazenly opened her legs for him.
“Do you like your gift?”
“Yes, Matthew, I do. I like them very much indeed.”
“How much?”
“Immeasurably.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” said Matthew, looking at her cunt glistening with moisture beneath her neatly trimmed, blonde bush.
“Looks good enough to eat,” he said, dropping to his knees between her legs.
He licked her cunt with long slurps, occasionally inserting his tongue into her hole, pressing his nose up hard against her clit while fingering her cunt relentlessly until she was squirming and moaning her way to orgasm. Afterwards, he lifted her into his arms, carried her to the bed, pushing her down, he parted her cheeks so that he could taste her delightful little arsehole. Expertly teasing her back to the edge of orgasm before fetching the anal beads that he’d thoughtfully packed, having decided that she was ready for more training.
“I want you to try these,” he said, holding up a string of half a dozen beads.
Closest to the ring at one end was the largest bead, each of the subsequent beads was slightly smaller than the last; the final bead on the string was smallest and would be inserted first.
“What are they?”
He was amazed that she hadn’t seen them before.
“Would you like to find out?”
“I don’t know, will they hurt?”
“No, you trust me don’t you. I haven’t let you down so far…have I?”
“I guess not.”
Matthew used the lube, rubbing a generous amount into her arsehole, taking the beads, inserting them one by one into her tight sheath until the largest was buried. Pulling on the exposed ring, he slowly removed them, and Eleanor wriggled as the beads popped back out one by one.
“Ooo, it feels strange.”
“Do you want me to do it again?”
“Yes.”
“Say please, beg me and I’ll consider it.”
“Please, Matthew, please put those little beads back up me. I want you to put them into my arse and pull them out again. Oh, please, Matthew, do please.”
Repeating the process, Matthew inserted and removed the beads a number of times while she squirmed. As ordered, she begged him not to stop. Finally, he buried them into her arsehole thrusting his cock into her cunt at the same time. The momentum pushed her arse up, and face down into the mattress, and he fucked her extremely slowly as he pulled the beads out one by one. He lost count of the number of times he shoved the beads inside her while fucking her, but he carried on until she was genuinely begging him not to stop.
She looked glorious in a lather of ecstasy. The diamonds glittered at her ears and throat; her hot little cunt clutched at him as the spasms of orgasm engulfed them.
Much later that night, Matthew woke her up, he was already hard, wearing a cock ring buzzing on his erection, laughing he said.
“Do you want this vibrating up against you, sweetheart?”
She pulled him toward her and opened her legs. It was their last night in the enormous bed, and they tumbled in it together until the early hours.
The next day, Matthew was pleased that the waiter was as good as his word, pushing the laden breakfast table into their suite on his own and standing beside it, he took the fifty Euros that Matthew handed him.
“Sei finito per il giorno come d’accordo?” asked Matthew.
“Si Signore,” replied the lad.
“Desiderabile?” asked Matthew.
“Si Signore, lei ẻ splendida.”
Matthew’s eyes travelled to the young man’s crotch, thrilled to see a nice bulge forming in his black trousers, showing the promise of a sizable cock. Matthew looked over to Eleanor sitting up in bed, still glowing from last night’s session with their vibrating friend.
“Get out of bed please, sweetheart,” said Matthew quietly, “breakfast is here.”
“Matthew, I’m naked. The waiter.”
“Here’s your robe, get up and put it on. Come and sit at the table, there’s a good girl, Angelo has agreed to serve us as it is our last day, it would be rude to say no, don’t you think?”
“Very well,” replied Eleanor, struggling into the robe, trying not to expose herself to the lad standing quietly behind her chair waiting to assist her.
Angelo stared at Eleanor as he poured the coffee, her breasts pushing against the cloth of the silk robe that enhanced rather than concealed her curves.
“Do you like her?” Matthew asked the boy in Italian.
“Si. Si.”
“Serve her some juice and touch her,” continued Matthew in Italian.
Angelo leaned over to pour orange juice into Eleanor’s glass, deliberately spilling it into her lap.
Eleanor jumped up in shock, the cold juice penetrating the robe, soaking its way onto her skin.
“Mi dispiace!”
“Don’t worry,” she replied, moving toward the bathroom. “It’s okay, I’ll just go and shower.”
Standing, Matthew pulled her against him whispering urgently.
“No need for that, sweetie, I want you to let him fuck you. Go and lie on the bed, no arguments, no fuss.”
Frozen to the spot, Eleanor was shocked, and she felt the drying juice sticky on her skin as Matthew continued speaking.
“We can go a long way together, you and I,” he said. “When we get home, I have a proposition to put to you. We can discuss it properly later if you like. However, just to help you make the right decision now, I will give you a brief overview. I have a substantial inheritance, and I have ideas of how I wish to spend it, none of this is any good to me without someone to share it. The someone I have in mind is you, but I have certain needs which I expect you to fulfil in return. When we get home, I want you to give up work so that we can spend our time together on my new project, on our project. Meanwhile, I have paid young Angelo here to service you for my pleasure, these are my wishes. It is that simple. But, if you aren’t happy to be part of my plans, when we get back to the UK we can go our separate ways. Obviously, I would be terribly disappointed, after all, you have enjoyed our adventures so far, and I assumed that you would be willing to meet most of my requirements in this respect.”
Eleanor responded with the slightest of nods.
“Strip,” Matthew instructed Angelo, “right off, all of it.”
The lad didn’t have to be told twice, he hastily undressed, revealing a lithe, tanned, muscular body, with a larger than usual penis standing proud because he was sporting an enormous erection. His pubic hair, dark and luxurious, matched the thick, shiny curls on his head. In spite of herself, Eleanor found the Italian lad extremely attractive. Although she fancied Matthew, in fact, she wondered if she was falling in love with him, the lad was a brilliant example of supple, pleasing youth. His cock looked enormous, and he was quite a contrast to Matthew whose skin had lost tone somewhat with age. She decided that the young Italian was quite splendid. Struggling to hide her glee, she allowed her wanton nature to bubble fully to the surface now that it had finally been unleashed by servicing Matthew’s demands.
“Go and lie on your back across the middle of the bed, Eleanor, leave everything else to me.” Matthew ordered, handing the lad a condom from the pocket of his gown.
Eleanor reclined, stretching out horizontally on the bed. Matthew knelt at her head, holding her hands above it to immobilise her upper body while Angelo rolled the rubber onto his cock.
“Ride her hard and rough, make her moan,” said Matthew, signalling that Angelo should mount.
Watching Angelo clamber onto her without ceremony, holding Eleanor’s hands effortlessly in one of his, Matthew opened his dressing gown with the other to masturbate. The lad pushed himself hard into her cunt and Eleanor bucked beneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Matthew knew that he wouldn’t need to hold her now, she’s a real harlot he thought, delighted that he’d got the measure of her from day one. He’d hold her down anyway because it turned him on.
Angelo thrust into her, grabbing at her breasts, leaning down to push his tongue into her mouth. She turned her head away to avoid kissing him, but he proved himself worthy of every penny of Matthew’s money, pulling her head around, forcing his tongue deep inside her mouth. She could taste cigarettes as it probed against her own, emulating the movement of his cock inside her cunt, the dried juice sticky between them. His chin, covered in fine stubble, scratched the delicate skin of her face and her breasts as he moved downwards, greedily sucking on her nipples.
Matthew rubbed himself ever harder as he felt his orgasm building. Holding Eleanor’s hands, he continued to pump away at his cock while Angelo pounded into her. She had started to moan, gripping her legs around the lad’s waist, raising her arse up off the bed to meet his thrusts. Her fabulous nipples erect from the attention that the lad had given them, betraying the moisture that his warm tongue had left behind. This wasn’t quite what Matthew had planned, she was enjoying the young Italian stud rather too much for his liking, letting go of her hands he stood up.
“Get off,” he barked.
The lad didn’t miss a beat, withdrew his cock, and scrambled off. He knew an order when he heard one.
Matthew had left it too late; his orgasm engulfed him and he shot his load onto Eleanor’s breasts.
“You now. In whatever way you like,” he told the lad, who indicated her mouth.
“Open your mouth for him, Eleanor.”
She got a hand to her cunt to masturbate, opened her mouth, and rubbing her clit, she watched the lad wank until he released an arc of cum aimed between her lips.
“Swallow, sweetheart, there’s a good girl,” said Matthew, who had fetched his camera and was recording the last of the action.
He took close-up shots of the lad’s penis stretching Eleanor’s mouth open. Spunk oozed out of the sides of her lips, with Matthew’s spunk drying on her still erect nipples.
The aftertaste of cum was salty in her mouth, the sides of her lips sore where she had sheathed the enormous cock. Her face stinging from the harsh scratches left by the lad’s stubble, but her cunt was soaked with the aftermath of her orgasm. The Italian’s cock had been massive, and she had enjoyed the feel of it stretching her hole as he pushed up high inside her.
Matthew ordered the lad to dress, showed him to the door, and pressed another pair of fifties into his hand, before hissing a warning about keeping his mouth shut. Agreeing, Angelo pocketed the money with a wide smile.
Closing the door, Matthew went to the bathroom and turned on the taps for a bath. Pouring a generous amount of oil onto water, he called her. She went to him without a word, immersed herself and sinking down, let the oily warmth lap up to her neck.
Eleanor met Matthew’s eyes in silent agreement of his plans as he started to talk.
“We’re going to open a hotel. Not on the scale of this one of course,” he said. “But I’ve bought a manor house in the country. It is to be an exclusive enterprise with just half a dozen guest rooms. Each will be themed. I’ve already discussed the interiors with a designer and an architect. Everything should be ready by the end of the year. You can rent out your house. That way, you’ll have an independent income from the rental. You’ll have no expenditure. I shall take care of everything. Your main obligation is to obey me in all things and to play host with me for themed weekends.”
“What sort of themes?” she smiled.
“Wait and see. We’d best hurry and dress, or we’ll miss the flight.”