Flawed Red Silk Ch. 09

The body was a woman, presumably the one I had seen earlier. Her stick was upright in the ground but broken. I dropped to my knees beside her. She was breathing shallowly and her face was pale. I touched her face. She flinched and opened her eyes.

“Hello,” I said, “Can I help you?”

It sounds stupid now, but I didn’t know what to say or do. She needed help and I was the only person around.

She licked her lips and whispered:

“I fell over. I think I fainted.”

“I could go to get help.”

I had left both mobile phones in the car.

Her voice was stronger this time.

“If you could help me I could get up and walk.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please.”

“OK.”

I helped her to stand up. She leant heavily on my arm.

“How did it happen?” I asked.

“I put my stick into a hidden rabbit hole. It snapped and I hit the ground. I think I passed out from the pain but that has subsided now. Without my stick I couldn’t stand up again. I am able to move when I am standing and can manage when I am sitting. Getting from sitting to standing or the other way is very difficult.”

“What is wrong?”

“Nothing much. I was thrown from my horse a few days ago. It shied at a fox. I have pulled some muscles and bruised myself. My doctor tells me that I should be reasonably mobile in a week or two and fully recovered in a month.”

“So you think you can walk back?”

“It will hurt, but I think I can if you help.”

“Of course I will. Tell me if we are going too fast.”

We started walking. I put my arm round her waist and she rested one hand on my shoulder. It was not very comfortable for me but we managed.

“I’m Ralph,” I said. “You are?”

“Patricia. I live on the estate. I assume you are a visitor?”

“Yes. It is my first time here. I’m staying in Sandwich, wanted a walk, and the Sandwich Bay estate was recommended as a good place.”

“It is, but very quiet at this time of year. Even my neighbours are away. Many of the houses are only occupied during the summer months.”

The drag of her weight on my arm was getting painful. To try to distract myself from the pain I studied Patricia. She was younger than I. As far as I could tell through the dark grey belted trench coat she was well built with curves where there should be curves. Her face was strained with a grey tinge but even so was attractive with a strong chin and pronounced nose. Her hair was light mouse, pulled back into a high ponytail. The hair had a gentle wave where it wasn’t stretched tight.

In her stout walking shoes she was a few inches shorter than I am. The few inches of leg not hidden by her coat were covered in ribbed opaque stockings. There was visible swelling on her left ankle.

My car came into view. The last hundred yards seemed more like half a mile with Patricia’s weight dragging on me. I propped her against the car while I opened the car door and pushed the passenger seat as far back as it would go.

Getting Patricia into the car was a struggle for both of us. I could feel the strain on my back as I straightened up.

I drove the half-mile or so to her house and parked on her drive. Getting her out of the car was nearly as hard as getting her in. My back protested as I supported her to her front door and into her living room. I took off her coat before I lowered her to the settee. I stood back with her coat over my arm. I had been right about the curves. A wide belt around her waist emphasised the swell of her breasts in a white skinny-knit sweater. Her calf length denim skirt didn’t conceal the breadth of her hips. The legs were well shaped except for the swollen ankle.

“Can I get something for the ankle?” I asked when I returned from hanging her coat in the hall.

“Yes please. There is a bag of frozen peas in the top of the chest freezer. They are my ice pack.”

I walked into the kitchen, found the freezer and the peas. I filled the kettle and put it on to boil.

Patricia had managed to swivel so that her legs were extended along the settee. I put the frozen peas around her ankle.

“Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?” I asked.

“Coffee, please,” she answered automatically. “Hold it! I’m the hostess. This is my house. I should be offering the coffee.”

“But you are in no state to make it, are you? I can.”

“In that case, yes please.”

Over the coffee we talked about ourselves. Patricia was a commercial artist working for a large advertising agency in London. Much of the work she could do from home, this home. She had been divorced a few years ago. She and her husband had split because there had been no children and they had gradually drifted apart in their careers. Much of his time was spent in the US. Years ago they had bought a flat in Battersea but when he was asked to move to Boston they decided to divorce.

She had the house at Sandwich Bay. The proceeds of the flat had bought a condo in Boston for him. They still spoke to each other and wrote from time to time but they hadn't regretted the divorce.

She had a horse that was in livery near Deal. She tried to ride at least four times a week until the accident. The horse was being exercised for her but this fall had been the worst of several over recent years so she had decided to sell the horse.

I was worried about what I should say about myself to Patricia who was a stranger to me. Should I mention Veronica? How would Patricia react to me discussing my relationship with a whore?

It was late afternoon and getting dark. My morning walk had taken me well past lunchtime before I turned back. It had taken us a couple of hours to get back to the car. More as a diversionary ploy than a conscious act I raised the warden’s concern. Would he be worried that my car was still on the estate, outside the area where visitors are allowed to go?

Patricia solved that one easily. She picked up her cordless phone and spoke to the warden. She asked me to confirm my car’s make, colour and registration number. When she switched the phone off she said:

“There you are, Ralph. That is sorted. You are now my guest and do not have to pay a fee for the rest of the week. Now what do we do? I can barely move otherwise I would offer you a meal.”

“And I would be delighted to accept, Patricia. Perhaps you could provide the ingredients and I could make the meal for both of us.”

“Can you cook?”

“Yes. I cook for myself from Sunday evening to Friday breakfast because I have a flat in London. Friday evening until Sunday lunch my wife, or her au pair, cooks for us. I can manage a basic meal.”

We settled that she would move into the kitchen with my help, perch on a stool and supervise while I cooked. The meal wasn’t one of my better efforts but not bad considering the circumstances. I had remembered to ring my hotel to tell them I would not be there for the evening meal.

After the meal we moved back to the settee bringing our wineglasses. She rested against my shoulder.

“Ralph?”

“Yes, Patricia.”

“Thank you for that meal.”

She pointed at my wineglass.

“You shouldn’t drink and drive.”

I raised my eyebrows. What did she mean?

“Why don’t you stay the night?”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“I think so. I’d like to try something to make sure.”

She leant forward and kissed me on the lips. We had to adjust our heads to clear her nose. The kiss was prolonged and very enjoyable. Her hands slid round behind me and held me tightly.

When she drew back she said:

“Now I’m sure. You ARE staying the night. But I have told you about myself, now it’s your turn, Ralph.”

I explained about my company, my flat in London, the family home in the country, my wife and children but I didn’t mention Veronica.

“So your wife doesn’t understand you. Is that what you are saying?”

“No, not really. She has her own life. I’m not part of it anymore and I haven’t been for some years. Until today, the first full day of holiday that I’ve had in years, I haven’t had a life of my own.”

“How old are your children?”

“The youngest is fourteen. The eldest is in her second year at university. Or is it her third? No, second year I think.”

“You don’t know much about them, do you?”

“They don’t want me to know much. I’m a stranger who visits at weekends when they want to be out enjoying themselves. I don’t see much of them. Even last Christmas I think I saw them together for about two hours during the whole break. My wife kept dragging me off to parties full of people I didn’t know and she did. Making polite conversation to complete strangers is not a great Christmas.”

“Have you ever tried to find out what you wife likes doing?”

“Yes, several times but her interests are local gossip and countryside affairs. Mine are my business, I suppose.”

“You suppose? Don’t you like that either?”

“Not really. I have been doing it for so long that it isn’t a challenge anymore. The company is profitable and sound. I could sell up tomorrow and retire. The company would survive without me as long as they hired a competent manager to replace me.”

“So you have no ambitions left, nothing to live for?”

“No, that’s what Veronica said...” I stopped.

“Aha! Ralph, I sense a mystery. Veronica isn’t your wife’s name is it?”

“No.”

“So who is she? You can tell me. I don’t know your wife or family. I won’t tell.”

I looked at Patricia. Why shouldn’t I tell her?

“OK. It’s like this. Veronica is a professional lady.”

“The oldest profession?”

I nodded.

“So tell me about Veronica, please.”

“I visit her every Friday evening on the way from work to the country house.”

“What does she do?”

“She’s a dominatrix. At least she is a dominatrix for me. She plays other parts for other customers. I visit her, she orders me around and then we have sex – at least we used to until my visit Friday last week.”

“What happened on that visit?”

“I brought her a present. She wasn’t pleased with me.”

“Why not?”

“She considered that it might change our relationship which was a commercial transaction. If she accepted a present from me it would make our interaction more personal. She didn’t want that.”

Patricia reached out and took my hand. She held it against her body.

“I think I can understand Veronica’s concern. What happened?”

“Our relationship changed anyway because we started talking to each other as people, not as prostitute and customer. She had already been worried that she meant more to me than she should. She did. She was the only outlet for me from a boring job and an estranged family. I took the present to Veronica because my wife would not understand it even if our marriage were much better. She could not value a work of art for its own sake, only if it had a price tag on it. She couldn’t tell a Turner from a Constable and wouldn’t want to. I knew that Veronica would esteem the present for itself.”

“Did she?”

“You are assuming that she accepted it.”

“I know she did. She did, didn’t she?”

“Yes, Patricia. She did.”

“Did she appreciate it as a work of art?”

“Yes.”

“So what was this mysterious present?”

“A pair of hand-embroidered red silk French Knickers.”

Patricia started giggling and then broke into full-scale laughter. I started laughing as well. When we calmed down again she asked:

“And were they a work of art?”

“They were, and are. They were covered in a beautifully worked scene of an Indian festival. A procession started on one leg, wound its way round and continued on the other leg. There were sacred cows, priests and even an elephant. The faces of the crowd were distinct and individual yet it was all done in the same colour silk as the knickers.”

“And now they belong to a prostitute. Did Veronica like them as a work of art?”

“Yes, Veronica, or rather the woman who works as ‘Veronica’ knew that they were unique. She has taken them home, not kept them at her place of work. She understood them.”

“I think I’m jealous of her. I’d love to have something like that.”

“But my wife wouldn’t. They would be too fussy and she’d never wear them or even look at them. I suspect that ‘Veronica’ might mount them so that they can be seen.”

“What did she give you in return for them?”

“Advice. Very good advice. She told me to take a real holiday, this one, away from work and the family. She said that I needed to find myself and that using her was no way to evade my problems.”

“She sounds a sensible lady.”

That was the first time since I had mentioned Veronica that Patricia hadn’t seemed to have a reserve about discussing her.

“She is. More sensible than I had given her credit for, but all I am to her is one of many customers.”

“But it sounds as if you are one that she likes.”

“I think so. That worries her, and now she has explained it I can see why, and that it should worry me as well.”

“It should. Back to us. What am I going to do with the knight in shining armour who rescued me?”

This was obviously a rhetorical question so I said nothing.

“I have an idea,” Patricia said. “Can you ease my shoes off, please? Gently, particularly the left one.”

I took her shoes off and put them on the floor.

“Now take off my tights.”

That was an order. Not as definite as Veronica’s order but an order. I slid my hands up under Patricia’s skirt. She lifted her rump so that I could pull the tights down. Underneath the skirt she was wearing a silky waist petticoat that slithered over my hands as I rolled the tights down each leg. I folded the tights up and put them beside her shoes.

Patricia twisted so that she was sitting with her feet on the floor. She spread her legs to the widest extent allowed by her skirt.

“OK, knight in shining armour, I want you to kiss me. There!”

Her finger pointed between her legs. I dropped to my knees. She lifted her skirt and I moved my head between her legs. I had a glimpse of shiny white panties before she dropped her skirt over me and pulled my head towards her.

Her female scent was strong but clean. I pressed my lips against her panties. She wrapped my head inside her petticoat and skirt and pushed me hard against her. I tried to penetrate through her panties but failed until she hitched the skirt up behind my neck and spread her legs further.

I was enjoying myself. I pushed the crutch of her panties aside with my nose and extended my tongue to lick around her cleft and slowly, ever so slowly, into the widening opening that was becoming slick as I worked. I heard Patricia gently moaning above me.

Suddenly her legs contracted about my head as her skin flushed warm around me. I kept my tongue working in the scented darkness inside her heavy skirt. She began to thrash her legs in excitement until a loud “Ow!”. She stopped suddenly and uncovered my head, exposing me with my extended tongue deep in her.

“Sorry, Ralph. That hurt. I think we should move to somewhere more comfortable for me. I forgot how bruised I am.”

In the sudden light I could see that her left leg was a mass of multi-coloured bruises. I wasn’t surprised that she had said “Ow!”. She had clamped my head with her bruised leg.

I carried her to the bedroom. Once I’d settled her on the bed she ordered me around as sternly as Veronica when playing dominatrix to the full.

I found myself driving to Deal to visit the large chemist’s to buy condoms. I arrived there about half an hour before they closed. I added a few purchases of my own from the chemists and other shops.

Patricia had given me a door key. I let myself in, announcing my arrival. In the bedroom she had changed out of her day clothes and was propped up in bed showing bare shoulders and a very interesting cleavage supported by a blue satin bra. The bra’s colour shimmered through the cups of the white night-dress.

“You got there in time?”

“Yes. I bought something else, for you.”

I held up the paper bag.

“What is it? Should I get annoyed like Veronica?”

“No. I asked the chemist for something to soothe bruising. He recommended this ointment to be applied gently every four hours. It should reduce the pain, reduce the swelling and make you more comfortable. At least that’s what he said it would do.”

“Let me see.”

I handed over the bag. Patricia pulled out the large pot of ointment and read the label carefully.

“You bought enough of it, didn’t you?”

“That is the giant economy pack usually bought by sports coaches and physiotherapists. I thought that since you have so much bruising and it needs applying every four hours a big pot would be best.”

Guess who applied it? Of course I did. Patricia had to strip off her best seduction night-dress, her satin push-up bra and her skimpy panties and spread out full length on top of the bed.

Her bruising was horrific. Her left leg was worst but there were large bruises on her back and across her buttocks. I applied the ointment as gently as I could but Patricia winced many times before I had finished. It seemed to be working. I started at her feet and then her left leg. By the time I reached her shoulders she was sleeping peacefully.

I went to the bathroom, shaved, showered and changed into the pyjamas I had just bought. I settled myself down on the settee.

I was woken by Patricia’s voice calling me. She needed my help to get to the bathroom. I left her until she called again, helped her back to bed and she put her discarded finery back on.

“Stay here!” she ordered. “I will need another coating in a couple of hours.”

She threw back the edge of the duvet. I slipped in beside her. She snuggled up to me and went back to sleep with her head resting on her shoulder. I tried not to move now that I had seen how badly bruised she was. Soon I was asleep as well.

Early next morning I woke up to find Patricia’s hand stroking my chest. I peered blearily at her.

“Good morning, Ralph. Thank you for last night. That ointment worked. Can you put some more on, please?”

Then I noticed that Patricia was naked beside me. I had an instant erection that I couldn’t conceal because it thrust hard against her body.

Her hand reached for it and stroked.

“Not yet. Ointment first, then maybe this,” she grasped the erection lightly, “will get some attention.”

I started on her shoulders and worked down to her feet. She winced much less than she had last night. It was difficult to keep my erection under control with my hands stroking her smooth skin. Patricia sighed softly as I finished.

“What shall I do for you?” she asked. “I am very limited by the bruising even after this soothing ointment. I could do this…”

She pulled my head into her cleavage. My whole face disappeared between her breasts as she pressed them sideways around me before pushing me away.

“…but I couldn’t do much more without hurting myself.”

She looked at me, planted a swift kiss on my forehead, and her hand reached between my legs.

“This needs some action and I’m not sure I can. All I can do is…”

She eased herself gingerly down my body kissing as she went. Each kiss seemed to burn like fire against my skin. She opened her mouth to surround my eager prick. One hand grasped and held firm as her mouth worked to absorb more of me. Her free hand covered my mouth and her thumb pushed inside. She lifted her head briefly to order “Suck!” I sucked on her thumb. Her palm and fingers spread across my face. Her mouth moved further down the shaft.

Before I had time to appreciate her skill I came into her mouth. Her thumb pressed deep in my mouth and the rest of that hand flattened my face stifling any outcry. I had climaxed too quickly.

Patricia sat up carefully, her throat moving as she swallowed. She was still pressing hard on my face denying me breath. I struggled against her hand briefly before she released her hold. I panted for a while. She stroked my chest with both hands and her fingers nipped at my nipples.

“That has taken the pressure off, hasn’t it Ralph?”