This story is for persons of eighteen years or over. All comments, good or bad, are welcome and all will be answered.
Part Five.
I was a bit apprehensive when I next went in to clean their house because of that exhibition at the pub. I was then surprised to find that the lounge was very tidy as I went through to the kitchen where another awaited. Stephen had clothes on and was eating his breakfast.
`Morning,' he mumbled through his muesli.
`Morning,' I replied quite coolly.
`Dave wants to see you. I think it's to apologise for the other night. He's upstairs,' Stephen said. Well I might as well hear it, I thought, and went upstairs to his bedroom. He was sitting up in bed, reading the newspaper, which he cast aside as I walked in.
`Angela. Angel. I must apologise for my behaviour on Saturday night. I didn't realise it was you that came up onto the stage, (bloody liar, I thought). If I had known I wouldn't have embarrassed you like that. It's just one of our gimmicks, you know, to get a girl up on the stage. Well I'm sorry I did it.'
He patted the side of the bed. Come and sit down.' Which I did and he took hold of my hand. I am truly sorry to have done that in front of your friends. To do this on the stage,' he moved my hand so that it was now again on his crotch that was only covered now by the bed sheet, `is only part of the act. It's supposed to drive the other girls in the audience wild.'
His hand was now moving mine again slowly over him, and I could feel him starting to grow big.
`Most of the girls leave me cold. But not you.'
His cock was now very hard under the sheet, and he curled my hand round it.
`That's what you and you alone are doing to me. This is the effect you have on me.' I should have let go and got up, but it felt good in my hand even covered as it was. Hard, throbbing and as big as Derek's and quite as thick. His hand pulled mine away as he whipped down the sheet and put it back onto his straining penis. And straining it was! The swollen head going purple with suffused blood being constrained by the stretched foreskin. I could feel the heat as it pulsed in time with beat of my heart.
His hand, sweeping the hair from my face as it came up and around my neck to pull me down towards his upturned face for a kiss. As we kissed, my hand started to move up and down on his shaft. My belly was starting to tremble and the familiar itch started deep inside of me as I could feel myself getting wet between the legs.
Boy, he was some kisser. Mouths open wide, lips bruising as our tongues fought each other for supremacy. He pulled me tighter to him, trapping my hand holding him between us. With a quick twist of his hip, he rolled me across him so that he now lay half on top of me, without breaking off the kiss.
We then broke off; panting heavily as he then swung his leg across and straddled me. I squirmed beneath him, but not because of his weight, but to try to un-stick my thighs from my own fluid.
I lay back, arms wide as I looked up at him. I could see lust in his eyes, which I'm sure he could see mirrored in mine. His hands started to undo the buttons of my blouse, pulling the bottom end free from my skirt as he opened it wide. Only then did his eyes leave my face to look at my heaving chest. I could feel that my aching nipples were fully erect as he then put the palms of his hands on them and started to gently move them about.
I lay there, trembling, as he massaged my breasts. There was fire in my belly, an itch deep inside that I couldn't scratch and the wetness between my thighs made me squirm.
His head came down onto one breast and he nibbled and sucked the hard nipple. Tingles went up and down my spine as his teeth gently worked on that small erect, hard piece of flesh. Then he did the same to the other. I was panting hard as he moved his head further down, kissing my lower chest, then my stomach, his tongue stabbing at my navel.
He shifted his own body as he undid my skirt and pulled it down over my hips. I helped by raising them. I couldn't do anything else as it seemed so natural. The same as when he then pulled down my panties, my legs going wide after he slipped them over off my feet.
I could see him kneeling between my wide open legs, his erection looking huge as it swayed and bobbed in front of him, but he hadn't finished his kissing. He moved slightly further back and then bent his head down in between my thighs.
His tongue was an electric shock as it hit my button first time. It traced a circle round my clit before it lapped over and down and entered my vagina. Deep his tongue probed as I climaxed, coming all over his face.
His hands gripped my outer thighs as he withdrew his tongue and sucked me. His mouth tight against the lips of my sex as he sucked and chewed at the same time.
My hands beat the sheets as I came, my thighs tightening around his head as I bucked against his mouth giving him a good face fuck. My head was swirling with the pure pleasurable sensation, but the inside itch was becoming unbearable. So much so, that I started pulling at his hair. Pulling his head up by force from between my legs. I wanted him now. I wanted his hardness inside of me, the length to scratch that itch.
I frantically pulled him up, his mouth, wetly trailing up my body till I could feel the tip of his cock nudge my pussy. I wiggled my bum till it was at the entrance to the grotto, and then heaved him up so that it slid in.
He took over then, and plunged deeply into me. I gasped and sighed at the same time as he fully entered and filled me. My inside muscles grasped that thick shaft as it moved up, feeling every ridge and vein as it pulsed and pushed, till his groin closed up to mine.
It sounds fatuous, but I almost swooned (Mills & Boon?) as he laid his full weight on me, his tool deep inside, tickling that itch. God, I do love a big cock inside of me. Move, you bastard, I said to myself. Scratch that itch. He did.
He roused himself up and leaning on his elbows, began a nice slow fucking. He'd pull back, myself feeling every inch being slowly withdrawn, till only the head of his cock was inside, throbbing and pulsing, my vagina muscles holding it tightly. Then he moved forward, his muscle filling and expanding my insides as he pushed to the limit. My legs went up and gripped his waist and my hips rose to meet his
downward thrust. I wanted him in as deep as he could go.
We attained a rhythm as we fucked, and it was glorious. I came twice. The second time was when he arched his back and pumped only from the hips, shooting his load into me as I came. My itch had been scratched and I was satisfied.
I think he had groaned as he came, but I was too much taken up with my own coming and gratification as the blissful flood of wellbeing flowed out from my stomach to my whole being.
We lay there for several minutes, him on top of me, his hardness still deep inside, my hands stroking his hair and running up and down his back, his body twitching at the latter, obviously finding his ticklish spots.
He heaved himself up and he slid out of me, and I couldn't help but give out a little cry as he withdrew. That's the part I hate. When the man pulls out leaving an empty void, that vital space that nature made for to be constantly filled with the male organ.
He rolled off me onto his back, his cock wetly trailing across my thigh as he did so.
`Boy! Was that some fuck!' he said.
That remarked angered me, as you would no doubt agree. All for one and one for me, must have been his motto. I left the bed and went and showered and even after a good scrubbing, I still felt dirty. I dried myself and went back into the bedroom, he was reading the paper again. I got dressed and waited for him to say something, anything, but he didn't come out from behind that damned newspaper.
I stormed out of the bedroom swearing to myself. Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em all. Let them clean the rest of the place. I picked up my money from the kitchen and went home.
I felt guilty when I went in the following week, expecting some sort of
criticism for not cleaning properly the week before, but I needn't have
worried.
The place was back to its normal shit state, plus they had obviously had a party of sorts the night before. There were bodies everywhere amid the debris of cans, glasses and discarded boxes from various take-aways. You know, the new idea of getting an Indian or Chinese meal in cartons to take home to eat. I tried one once. I think the cardboard carton had more taste than the food, but I must admit that now they have improved over the years.
Anyway, as I was saying, there were bodies strewn about the place, most of them naked, or as near as damn it. All different configurations of the male penis were on show. Most were on the small side, wrinkled, bent, circumcised, some semi erect, twitching as their owner went through some erotic dream or other.
The females looked the worst. Smeared lipstick, one drooling, flaccid tits, and one revolting spectacle. It looked as though her stomach had been used as a plate for a mixture of rice and curry. It had run down her sides and also matted her pubic hairs, and some wag had placed a king size prawn between her thighs making it look obscene.
Well I cleaned up as best I could moving round these bodies, then cleaned the kitchen.
Upstairs I found the expected. David in bed, snoring, while some tart lay spread-eagled next to him. Blonde at the top, but showing her true colours between her legs. She held his limp prick in her half-closed hand in sleep.
`Well I won't be touching that again,' I said aloud, as I picked up discarded clothes and dumped them into the wash basket in the bathroom.
I then went into Stephen's room to clean, and was not surprised to see that he also had somebody in bed with him. What groupie has he got, I thought, as the body was completely covered by the sheet? I flicked it back and wasn't really surprised to see another man's head lying on Stephen's stomach, his hand cupped round Stephen's balls. I flicked the sheet back and carried on.
I'd cleaned up the house as best I could, considering the occupants who hadn't stirred at all. It was just as I was leaving that I had a wicked idea. I tore a piece off of a newspaper and made a spill. This I lit and held it up under one of the smoke detectors until it went off. Laughing, I quickly went out and shot off down the road. Let that wake the buggers up!
Then came my twenty first birthday.
Mike woke me up saying, `Happy Birthday. Here's your present.'
And before I knew it, he was on top of me and his cock was inside. For Christ's sake! I wasn't even awake and he was fucking me. I couldn't move for his weight as moved in and out. I couldn't really respond, but he didn't seem to notice this. He just kept moving and grunting as he built up to his peak and came with his usual juddering jerks and gasps. With a final grind, he fell forward, almost smothering me for a few moments before he rolled off.
That was great,' he said as he lay on his back. I bet you enjoyed that!'
I mentally stuck two fingers down my throat.
`Great darling, just great.' as I got out of bed and went and showered. I didn't even bother masturbating myself as he hadn't even started anything, I just washed out his sperm, thanking the pill.
With breakfast out of the way and Epsom off to school, I went shopping. With the money I had saved from Derek and others, I had a ball. I'm not going to give free advertising here, but I did buy a lot of designer label clothes. The best one was a white leather mini skirt with a matching bolero style jacket also in leather. With white shoes and a low cut frilled blouse, it was the cat's whiskers and I wore this outfit when I went out that evening. I must admit that I did look the beauty to Mike's beast. The only concession he made to the evening was to shave.
I met up with my old mates in the King's Head', and some new ones from the agency. Even Philippa turned up, but didn't stay long. Her nose was so far up in the air, I don't think she could breathe properly in our lower atmosphere, so left quite early. As expected, I didn't have to buy a drink all night. The drinks flowed and I got a lot of compliments (and propositions) because of my new outfit, which did show off my figure really well. One of the usual approaches was that I should do some modelling, and they knew whom to approach if I would let him handle me. My stock answer was Piss off', but for some reason I can't explain, I accepted this particular proffered card and put it in my bag. But as I've mentioned it now, I might as well finish off this little story.
It was a couple of days later that I saw this card in my bag and gave the guy a ring. More curious than anything, because he did seem sincere at the time.
He was delighted that I called, and asked me to visit his studio, which was somewhere off Borough High Street. So I went one day after cleaning, finding his place up two flights of not very clean stairs to his studio. Very cramped and claustrophobic, lots of lamps lighting a small area of the room that contained a mock bedroom to one side and a kitchen to the other. He said he was very pleased to see me and did his best to make me feel comfortable. He was a short guy, about thirty five years of age, already losing his hair and was having trouble with his weight. I didn't think there would be any sexual overtures and I was right. Which if other stories I have heard about some of these photographers were true, it made him a rarity.
He explained that a brassiere manufacturer had commissioned him to take photographs of their products, and that I had the kind of bosom (his words) that could possibly result in big money for both of us.
He was very polite, showing me where I could change. No need to take off any lower clothes as he would only be taking pictures of my upper half.
The changing area was just a curtain in one corner. A variety of bra's hung there for me to wear. I picked the largest and this was too small for me, I couldn't even do it up at the back. I had to get him to help to get the clips fixed.
Well pictures were taken from various angles of my bust in these very tight bra's, and bust me they nearly did.
The upshot of it was, that, though he took quite a few pictures, (not too bad, some of them), they never did make it to be finally selected for the advertising. That was my one and only shot at a modelling.
After that short digression, let's get back to the party at the pub, it was going with a swing up until the male stripper came in.
Now I've seen strippers and I've seen strippers. This thing that they had hired was a prat of the first order. He came into the pub in a policeman's uniform. I think it must have been the first time a uniformed officer of the law had ever been seen in the pub.
With it being my birthday party, some of those on the outside of it, guessed straight away what he was, and pre-empted him. The main reason being that a copper on his own would never had dared enter that pub, he would have been with at least another two if not more. He didn't get four feet inside before he was grabbed and stripped. Beer was poured over him and then the contents of ashtrays followed.
Drunk as I was, I felt the humiliation that that poor fellow went through. I couldn't help but cry for him as he tried to fend off the ring of men that surrounded him. I snapped, and went flying in. Fists, head, knees, I used them all getting through to him and helping him fight a rearguard action back to the bar flap and getting him out into the back room.
I think my sudden attack surprised them, well I surprised myself really. Also the fact the only person to come swinging in with me was Paye and a friend of his.
Well the three of us got the stripper out of the hands of the mob and helped him clean up. I got an inkling there when he let Paye clean his genitals instead of me. Slightly miffed, I watched as Paye washed him at the sink. Colin, that was the name of Paye's friend, dried his back, taking his time using the bar towel round the buttocks.
I then looked to myself, torn blouse, scratched arm and slightly blood stained face, not my blood though.
Paye managed to retrieve the poor man's trousers but that was all. It was my suggestion that we get him out of there, but where to go was the question. Now I wasn't really in any state myself to be much help, but we got William, that was the strippers name, out through the back of the pub, and we all hurried off down the road to Paye's flat. It must have been Colin that swiped the bottles of drink from the pub as we left, because it was him that poured us all a stiff drink when we got there.
Now from that point, things got a bit hazy for me. I'm pretty sure that what I saw was for real and not the result of the quantity of drink that I'd consumed during the course of the evening.
I was flaked out in an armchair, well the only chair in the place, the others were sprawled across the bed drinking. I must have dropped off for a bit, because the next time I looked at them, they were all naked. Not only naked, but making a ring a-ring of posies. Colin was sucking on Paye's cock, while he was sucking on William's, and he was sucking Colin.
I couldn't believe it. I shook my head to try to clear my eyes, but the scene stayed the same. The three of them were doing it to each other. Now I've heard of men paying to watch lesbians perform, but never did I think that I would be given the chance to watch men perform with each other, for free.
I kept very still and watched as they each in turn handled the cock they were sucking in different ways. William was using his right hand to hold Colin's cock as he worked his head up and down on it. His other hand was up under behind Colin, and I think he must have had a finger inserted where the sun don't shine. Colin had both of his hands around Paye's erection as he held his head steady and seemed to pull the shaft up into his mouth as he did so. Paye was only using one hand to hold it in his mouth as he sucked. The other was stroking around William's balls and lower stomach.
I watched from under lowered lids as the trio did their slow sensuous ministrations upon each other. The languid movements of legs, the slow bobbing of heads in time with the hand movements.
At some unseen signal, the motions suddenly increased and with the tightening of leg muscles, I knew they were coming. Head movements froze while the hands moved faster and hips bucked, forcing cocks deeper into the mouths as they each came in their turn. The sudden stiffening showed their erupting, throats contracting as they swallowed and swallowed the sperm of their respective partners.
I couldn't help but finger myself as I watched and I came myself at about the same time that they did. I wanted to get out of the chair and join them, but it seemed right just to sit there and watch.
Slowly they disentangled themselves and fell to mutual kissing and fondling. After-play I believe it's called. I don't seem to get that from men, I thought. They just want to fuck, roll off and go to sleep. Maybe the heterosexual men should watch this kind of show and see that sex should be carried on past the copulative stage for their partners' sake.
I think I staggered off to the toilet shortly after the show, wet pants and all that. When I returned, Paye and William were asleep on the floor, and Colin was lying on the bed so I naturally crawled on alongside him. I lay there next to him, torn blouse, no knickers on and him naked. Yet he made no move toward me. He just lay there looking up at the ceiling, not moving. I snuggled up closer till our thighs were touching and I rested my hand on his upper leg. He still didn't move so I turned my head towards him.
You're Colin, aren't you?' I asked, Paye's friend. I haven't seen you before.'
I let my eyes run down his sun tanned body, small as he was, (we were the same length lying down), he was not muscular, but solidly built. His limp penis was about six inches, what would it be fully erect? I hadn't been able to see it properly earlier. It lay across his thigh, its whiteness an absolute contrast to the deep brown of his leg. My fingers itched to move down and hold it; I was starting to get quite wet between my legs at my thoughts.
`I'm Angela, by the way,' I said, leaning up on my elbow, resting my hand on his chest.
`Pleased to meet you,' he mumbled.
`I...I saw, watched you earlier. Are you...? Are you like Paye?' I asked.
`Yeah. I guess so,' he gave a little hiccup. I gently moved my hand down his chest and over his stomach till I reached his pubes.
`You're wasting your time with me,' he slurred.
`Why's that?' I queried.
I don't make it with girls. Never have and never will.' He took my wandering hand and pulled it up and kissed it. Thanks for the thought anyway.'
`Why?' I asked.
Long story,' he mumbled again, you don't want to know.'
`I definitely do! A girl with big tits and no knickers on, caressing a man with the biggest limp dong I've ever seen, saying he's not interested, and it's a long story? I've got all night, so tell me.'
I snuggled back down and put my arm under his neck and cradled his head against my shoulder, and softly asked him to tell me why.
He was a bit worse for wear with drink, but he told me his story. Not coherently, so I'm not quoting it word for word, but how it would have came out if he had been sober.
He was an only child of well to do parents who `protected' him from life as they saw it. Must not mix with the local peasantry, had to be the right people, so was sent to an exclusive boy's boarding school. It wasn't his fault that his mother had let his hair grow rather on the long side and then have it cut and shaped so that it looked more fitting on a girl. That and his pretty face soon made him a target for the older boys.
It started out casual enough. Midnight feasts from parent's packages, shared amongst a select few. Then came the extra specials, which only two could share. A favourite chocolate bar and the like.
Well, he would be invited to another boy's bed to share a special treat. Not only something sweet to eat, but a forbidden magazine which had been smuggled in. They would go under the covers and look, with the aid of a torch, at the pages of women showing naked breasts and hints of what was between their legs. Then one night, it was a magazine showing men full frontal, limp and erect.
I bet mine will be as big as that when I'm fully grown,' said the other boy, look at it now.'
Colin looked and saw that the boy's penis was standing up straight from between the front opening of his pyjamas.
`Feel it. Feel how hard it is. Go on. It won't bite.'
Colin put his hand on it, grasping it, the same as he usually grasped his own when he wanked. It was an automatic reaction that he started to move his hand up and down on it.
`Yes, yes, yes. That's it! Don't stop.'
So Colin carried on till the boy stiffened and shot his load up onto the top sheet and over his hand.
That was great,' the boy said, as he slowly relaxed back, now your turn, and let's not make it so messy.'
Puzzled at this last remark, Colin let him take his erection in hand and wank him.
`Tell me when you're ready to come,' he asked, as he gently, but firmly, moved his hand up and down his shaft. Even at that age, he admitted that he wasn't really small in that department.
`Yes. Yes, I'm coming,' as he felt the surge of sperm start to rise up his stem. It came as a surprise when his partner ducked his head down and took his penis into his mouth and caught the full emission, and without letting go, swallowed it all.
That was the first time I'd been given head,' Colin said to Angela. Well the next night, I did it to him. I must admit, I did like the feeling of power that it engendered. That hard piece of muscle that you roused from a limp lump of flesh. The pulse and throb of it in your hand and literally pulling the essence of man out and taking it into yourself. It was incredible. I was hooked from there on. We would do this nearly every night, either in his bed, or in mine.
Then we were caught doing it one night by the housemaster. He was doing a surprise night round of the dormitory and literally caught me in the act by whipping back the bed cover as I was doing it.
The blow to the head nearly choked me on the cock in my mouth, and I was roughly pulled from the bed, down the dorm to his room. He bundled me inside and shut the door. I stood there trembling as he went to a cupboard and took out a cane. He stood there in his dressing gown, I noticed that he wasn't wearing pyjamas like me.
He swished the cane and told me to drop my pyjama bottoms and bend over the arm of his chair. I fumbled with the cord and finally released the knot and they fell to my ankles, and I bent over the chair. I felt his hand lift the bottom of my top and I could feel a distinct chill around my bum as it was offered to the cane.
It caught me by surprise, that first stroke. I cried out and choked it on the second swipe. I cried throughout the six belts and was sobbing when he stopped.
`I had to do this,' he told me,' you must learn from this experience. I didn't want to do it, but this will help. I've got some cream that will ease the pain.'
Still sobbing, I heard him move about and then felt this cold cream being applied to the burning welts on my arse. What an instant relief that brought. He liberally smeared this cream all over and didn't really notice that he'd also coated the entrance to my anus. I felt his hands lift me upright and pull me backwards.
`Now come and sit on my lap and I'll tell you why I did this tonight.'
I was pulled further back and lifted up over his knees. I wasn't prepared or ready for what happened, but as I was sat on his lap, he entered me. The extra cream helped him.
All of a sudden, he was inside me. His cock had slipped straight up into me as he sat me on his lap. My sphincter muscle hadn't time to react to the invasion. He was there! Inside of me, his burning heat that gave me an instant erection.
I was too naïve to realise exactly what had happened at that time. Just that initial burning because of the stretching of my anus, then the feeling of fulfilment as I felt his, to me then, his huge cock inside me, and of my own instant erection after penetration. I felt his head move close to mine.
`This is what cocks are for. Fucking, and not just sucking.' He was slowly bouncing me up and down, his penis moving inside of me with his movements. As he started to move me faster, his hand came round and started to pull on my piece.
I enjoyed it. I'm not ashamed to admit it, but I liked it, even though my bum was smarting from the cane. He must have felt my own coming because he jerked on me faster and stiffened his body to shoot his load into me as mine shot out over the carpet.
I suppose they call it abuse nowadays, but I didn't think of it that way then. I enjoyed it as much as he did.
It got to the point where he would call out my name for certain infractions of the house rules and invited me into his study for `counselling'. There he would then fuck me every which way but loose. I loved that man and went willing into his study. I would even get the cream out of the cupboard drawer, pull open his dressing gown and apply some to the head of his erection, and some to the crack of my arse. I would then climb up and straddle him and lower myself onto him as he
guided his cock up into me. With him firmly inside of me, I would bounce up and down while he pulled me off to come all over his chest as he came inside me.
The difficult part was when I tried to suck him off. His cock was too much for me to take into my small mouth. I could only get the head in, but it was enough for him. He liked it when I held it with my teeth as he held my head firmly in his hands as he then fucked my mouth. He would come in shuddering bursts that I learnt to swallow without letting go of him, and he liked it when I licked him clean.
I learnt later in life, that he had done the same to many boys over the years, and was eventually reported and imprisoned for immoral acts on children. I was never asked about my stay there and if I had anything to say. I'm glad I wasn't, because I think I probably would have stood up for him and been branded like him.
Well the end result is maybe wrong, but I don't regret it. I just can't get it together with a woman. That's why I became an air steward. You'd be surprised at the number of men that are more interested in picking me up than the stewardesses. They are more inclined towards the pilots or between themselves. Now I don't mind you giving me a cuddle but that's as far as it will go.'
With that, he fell asleep on me. I didn't know whether to be affronted or scorned. Spurned I had been, but somehow not rejected otherwise he wouldn't have told me what he had. I could only think it was my relationship to Paye that let him speak of his early life to me. At this point, I asked Amy (the writer of this book) to look into the possibility of writing about Colin, but she said that the publishers might not be
prepared to go into print about the intimate details of a homosexual life. I threw back Oscar Wilde, but she said there were some exceptions, but even his `bio's' didn't go into graphic details. I let it go there, as I had at least implanted the idea.
With Colin asleep in my arms, Paye and the stripper, William asleep on the floor, I joined them by going to sleep on the night of my twenty-first birthday.
It was just after this that my life took its turn to my future career.
I had been cleaning for some time the flat of Carol Dench and her boyfriend, Peter Marks. She was a fashion designer and he worked in television, advertising, that sort of thing.
They were a tidy couple and the flat didn't take long to clean. One day, I was hoovering the lounge and pulled the cushions off the settee to do down the sides, when a photograph fell to the floor. I picked it up and looked at it, and gasped.
It was of Peter and he was dressed in female underwear, bra, panties, stockings and garter belt and trying to pose seductively.
They must have been looking at it the night before and some-how let it slip down the side of the cushions. But then I thought you don't sit down just to look at one picture, you look at several, if not, a whole lot of them, and you then could misplace one. So where were the others?
Now I don't normally poke and pry into my clients personal drawers, but I did now and found them in one of the bedroom dressing table drawers. A packet of nearly twenty. Half were of Peter in various poses wearing what must have been Carol's lingerie as well as her dresses. One was a cocktail dress in which he was doing a spin, because the dress had flared out to give a glimpse of thigh above the stocking top. The one I liked was of him with garter belt and stockings and an erection that was nearly as big as his smile.
The others were of Carol wearing a variety of Peter's clothes, and she looked bloody good in them. In a couple of them you couldn't even tell that it was a woman in a man's attire.
I was just putting them back, when I noticed something in the corner of one of the pictures. I emptied the packet out again onto the bed and spread them out. Yes, it was there in three of the pictures. A tripod leg, and these photos had been taken in this room. I looked round at the angle from which those had been taken andwent and looked closer at the carpet. There were three distinct indentations that the legs had made. These photos were from an ordinary hand held camera, but a tripod
smacked of a video camera being used at some time.
I gathered up the pictures and put them back in the packet and replaced them in the drawer. I then went back into the lounge to the video cabinet. There must have been about eighty of them, most of which were store bought purchases in their plastic boxes, others were home recorded with the titles indicating the film or programme contained. There were five that didn't have titles at the bottom. I pulled one of these out and switching on the television and recorder, inserted it into the machine and set it to play.
The black snow flaked screen flickered and then showed the hall, empty. The camera panned round to face the door as it opened and in walked Peter. He was dressed in one of Carol's outdoor coats, high heels and a wig. He shut the door and took off the coat and hung it on one of the hooks on the wall behind the door.
He paused before the full-length mirror to smooth down the dress he was wearing and gently fluff up the ends of the wig. He then entered the lounge and the scene switched to show him coming in. He swayed across the lounge and went into the bedroom. He crossed over to the wardrobe and unhooking the back of the dress, took it off and after putting it on a hanger, hung it inside. (As the camera had panned, I assumed that it was Carol who was operating it.)
He then sat down at the dressing table and while looking at himself in the mirror, gently patted his cheeks with a powder puff. He then rose and put on a peignoir from the bed and re-entered the lounge.
The front door opened, and in came Carol wearing one of Peter's' suits and a trilby, which she took off and hung on a hook next to the coat. She turned and approached Peter who held out a cocktail, which she took and sipped. Putting the glass down, she moved in and they kissed.
Breaking apart, Peter helped her off with her jacket and his hand went down and unzipped the fly of her trousers and put his hand inside. She threw her head back as he obviously fingered her and tugged down her trousers at the same time. Carol then put her hands on his shoulders and forced him down to his knees as she stepped out of her trousers and stood with her legs apart. With his hands holding her hips, he buried his face up into her crotch, his head moving as he tongued her.
After a few moments, she pushed his head away and knelt down on the carpet. Peter, in his bra and stockings, struck a pose that emphasised his erection straining the fabric of his panties. Carol, reached out and released it, letting it bounce in front of her face before she took it into her mouth. She shuffled slightly to one side, so that the fixed camera could get a good view of her giving him head.
After a few minutes of sucking and wiping his erection over her face, she then coaxed him down onto the floor and straddled him. With covert looks towards the camera position, she then held his erection upright and sank down on it. With him buried inside of her, she pulled off her tie and shirt and let him play with her tits as they fucked.
I stopped the tape then, rewound it and put it back with the others, giving a lot of thought to what I had seen while I finished off the cleaning and also on the way home.
I formulated some sort of plan, haphazard maybe, but I was prepared to go ahead with it and see how it turned out. And how it did! I will admit that I did confess to them both at a later date of what I had done, and how, and because of the fantastic results that ensued, they forgave me for my subterfuge.
Firstly, I used to go in on Tuesday's, but the next week I phoned and asked if I could come in on the Wednesday instead. (I knew that Carol worked at home on Wednesdays.) This was okay, so I showed up on that day and I cleaned up the house, leaving the kitchen till last where I knew Carol was working.
I remember it was late morning and Carol was sipping from her wine glass as I entered. The large kitchen table was covered with lots of her drawings as she pensively looked at them. I looked over her shoulder exclaiming, They're lovely. I didn't know you could draw so well, and they look gorgeous.' I pointed to one and said, I really like that one.'
`Do you really think so? I think I prefer that one too,' Carol replied. The drawings were all of female clothing, some just underwear, some, the full outfit.
`What do you think of this one?' Carol asked, pulling one out at random. It was of a skirt and blouse.
`Er...not really. It's too full at the hips. I don't think it would look good from the back when she walks, if you know what I mean. The blouse is okay, but looks as if it would pull free from the waistband.'
Yeees...,' she slowly drawled out, I think I see what you mean. I think you've got a point there,' as she sipped some of her wine. She placed the glass on the table and gathered up the drawings, tamping them on the table into a neat stack.
`That was a good observation. I think you've got an eye for clothes,' she said. I did a little pirouette, flaring my short skirt, giving a flash of my white panties.
`With my figure, wouldn't you spend a little time getting the right clothes for it?'
`You're absolutely right, Angela, and I must say that you do look stunning, and they are your working clothes?'' she asked incredulously.
`Yup,' I replied.
Carol took another sip of wine, tapping the pile of drawings in front of her.
Sit down.' she said, pushing the drawings towards me. Oh sorry. I should have asked if you have the time. I would really like you to look through these drawings and say what you think.'
That's okay,' I said pulling out the chair, I've finished for the day, so I've got all the time in the world.'
I sat down and slowly went through the stack of drawings making three piles of them as I went along. I held one up and laughingly told her about my photo shoot.
`I had to wear something like this. It was two sizes too small. I was more out of it than in. I think it was deliberate.' Carol laughed as I told the story.
He then,' I confided to Carol, asked if I would be interested in making some movies. Adult movies! If you know what I mean? I didn't at the time, but he soon told me.' I let my eyes go blank and looked away from Carol and said, almost dreamily, `I didn't do it of course, but have often wondered what would have happened if I'd have said yes. Yes, I have often wondered what it would be like, watching myself make love to somebody else.'
I let myself give out a small dreaming smile, being careful not to look at Carol as I said this. I could feel her eyes looking me over, but I kept mine averted. Carol's hand trembled as she reached for glass of wine and gulped at it. This I noticed from the corner of my eye.
`Angela! I'm so sorry. There's me asking you to look at all these drawings and I'm drinking wine and not offering you one.'
She got up from the table and fetched a glass, and filling it, offered it to me.
`Come on, drink and catch me up. I shouldn't really drink alone.'
I drank my wine and continued going through the three piles of drawings, putting them into the order of my preference. When finished, I pushed them across to Carol. She refilled our glasses and then looked at them as I had selected.
I was right! You do have a very good eye for fashion.' As she turned them over, one by one, she said, hesitantly, You know Peter is in T.V. advertising. Well...well...we do a little filming here. To help him get certain things right for some of his campaigns. To try out ideas, that sort of thing.' She said this very nervously as she gulped her wine and gave a little laugh.
`We actually were doing one for some of this underwear and we got carried away and went and did it! With the camera still running! Can you believe it?' She gave another nervous laugh.
`I was so embarrassed when I saw the video later, but since then, I don't mind watching myself with Peter.'
She emptied her glass and refilled both, as I was now matching her, glass for glass, knowing my capacity was better than hers.
Don't get me wrong,' she said. The films that we have made of us are not shown to anyone. They are only for us to watch, and,' here she went embarrassingly coy, `to perfect our lovemaking.' She then looked at me.
Did you really mean it when you said that you would like to see yourself, you know, making love to someone...? I...I... don't know what you think, but we...I mean Peter and I...I'm putting this rather badly I think, but I wouldn't mind if...if you wanted to see yourself with Peter. I wouldn't object, honestly! I'd have to be there to film of course...' Her hand came across the table and covered mine. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have suggested such a thing. Please forgive me. It must have been the wine.'
Got you, I thought as I put down my wine glass and covered her hand with my other one and looked her straight in the eye. For several seconds our eyes were locked together, until I hiccupped. Then I couldn't help but giggle.
You should see your face,' I laughed, I wouldn't mind if you didn't mind. A few more glasses of this, I wouldn't mind with who, what, where or when.'
Carol almost fell off the chair getting another bottle of wine out of the rack and opening it and pouring out more into our glasses. She put her hand on my shoulder, `We could, if you've a mind, do it this afternoon if you'd agree? Peter should be home soon, he's always early on a Wednesday.'
Carol's hand was moving very seductively up and down the back of my neck.
If you say yes, I think we could give Peter the surprise of his life, not to say the biggest hard on he will ever get.' Her hand was rubbing mine more intently as she spoke. Please say yes, we could really make him jump.'
I turned my head and looked up at her, her eyes shining with ill-concealed excitement, and putting my hand up and covering hers, nodded my agreement.