Katherine Ch. 01-02

'What about tomorrow evening?'

She gave a deep-throated laugh then said in a slightly mocking tone. 'So soon, feeling in need of attention are you?'

'Yes, but I was hoping the feeling might be mutual Katherine.' I replied with just a little more confidence.

There was a fairly long silence before she replied, but when she did the tone of voice she had used had gone and had been replaced by a huskier one. 'You could be right Craig. Why don't I come over there, see where you live. If that's all right?'

'Fine, I'll cook you something to eat. What time?'

'Is about eight o'clock OK?'

I said it was, gave her the address and an idea of how to get there then we wished each other goodnight and hung up.

My brain immediately went into over-drive, one part of it skimming through the repertoire of dishes I was confident of cooking, another checking what work simply had to be done the next day and what could wait, another thinking about the magical things she had done for me.

Sorting out my work priorities was quick and easy. Then having decided that a seafood pasta followed by fruit and cheese would be appropriate, extremely flavoursome but not too heavy, I made a mental note of what I would need to buy the following morning. That left my brain free to concentrate on recalling the details of the all too brief time Katherine and I had spent together, and trying to imagine what might yet lie ahead.

So by the time I was ready for bed I had an erection that simply refused to die down of its own accord, and with the thoughts and images whirling through my head was in no need of the aid of the photograph she had given me. But the relief I got from jerking myself off was only temporary and my dreams were filled with images of Katherine and I together in a variety of positions and situations.

Chapter 2

Belinda

She arrived dead on time and although from the strength of her kisses when I took her in my arms I got the impression she was as hot for me as I was for her, she suggested we eat first. 'It's been a long and busy day Craig, and as I've had no time for lunch it'll be much better for both of us, if we curb our other needs for just a little bit longer. Is that OK?' she asked as she broke free of my encircling arms.

'Of course, I hope you like what I've got cooking.' I replied, only a little disappointedly.

It was obvious from the relish with which she ate that she was indeed hungry, and also seemed to be enjoying what I had prepared. 'This is delicious Craig. Finding a man who is both an exciting lover and a good cook is something most women only dream about.' she said, taking another sip of the wine I had chosen to go with the pasta.

'Was it one of yours too?' I asked with a grin.

'Possibly.' she replied with a low laugh.

'Sounds promising then. But before we explore the possible implications of that, tell me about the exhibition.' I said, not wanting our conversation to get too specific too quickly.

She became quite animated as she gave me a run-down of the details of what had been on show, naming several prominent artists, and a few well thought of critics who had been there. When she then told me she had also sold several items I topped-up our glasses and gave her a congratulatory toast, which made her both laugh and blush with almost girlish delight.

When we had finished and cleared the things away she said she needed to use the bath-room and having shown her where it was I finished tidying up in the kitchen and then went through to my bed-room. I had no sooner turned on the small bed-side light and turned down the bed-cover when she appeared at the door-way.

'So this is your bed-room.' she said as she moved past me and stood looking around. 'I have often thought how lucky we all are that walls can't actually talk. If they could I bet these would have a few stories.' she said with a wicked grin, then laughed when I replied.

'But I bet mine would be nowhere near as interesting as those yours would have to tell.'

'Ah, I should have guessed.' she said as a print on the wall opposite my bed caught her eye. 'Of course you would have a Degas.' Adding in knowing voice. 'And I bet I know why it's hung where it is.'

The picture was classic Degas, of a young, chestnut haired ballerina who was bent double as she retied the laces on her dancing shoes. Although her slender, youthful body was itself quite overtly erotic, for me the key aspect was of course her hands. They were exquisite, very white, with incredibly long fingers, fingers that curled truly sensuously as she manipulated the laces. But of course whenever I looked at the picture I imagined those fingers curling around something quite different, imagined their slender softness gently curling around my cock.

'I imagine that's been used more times than you can count.'

'True, it's helped me through many a lonely period. I'm very fond of her.'

'She does have really beautiful hands, have you given her a name.'

'Belinda.'

'Not exactly French, but I like it, she looks like a Belinda.' she said, turning to face me, then adding as she moved closer and slipped her arms around me. But although I'm sure she's very good with her hands why don't we try the real thing instead.'

Much later, when we had completely both sated and exhausted each other and were quietly lying side by side, she said. 'Tell me about your fantasies, with Belinda I mean. How long have you had the print?'

'Oh, years now, it was given to me by an ex girl-friend.'

'Really!'

'Yes, as a sort of parting gift. Although we'd never discussed it she twigged to my preference, she thought I was weird and decided to cut her losses. Left this parcel outside my door with a short, very sarcastic note attached.'

Katherine gave a low chuckle. 'Well at least she left you something she not only knew you would like, but would also find useful.' she added with a laugh. 'I think I would have liked her.'

'She was a very strong willed lady, she liked to dominate, and not just in bed.'

'You can tell me about her another time, let's get back to Belinda. Who is she? In your fantasies I mean.'

'That varies, most often she's the friend of one of my nieces, Susan, they attend the same ballet class and Belinda lives not far from my sister and brother-in-law's place. They go overseas for a couple of weeks, on business and can't take Susan with them, so because the hall where she has her classes is just a few streets away from here, they have asked me to collect the two girls a couple of times a week and give them a lift home.'

'How old is she? Belinda I mean.'

'She's usually a year or two older than my niece, just turned eighteen.'

'Usually?'

'Sometimes she's just a little bit younger, not often.' I added guiltily.

'When she is, does that change what you do together?'

'Not really, just what we say to each other and how I feel about us doing it.'

'Feeling a bit guilty adds excitement to the experience?'

'Mmm, yes it does.'

'Unlike the girl who gave you the picture, I'd like to hear what happens in some of your fantasies Craig, will you share that with me?'

'If you'd like me to, yes.'

'I mean tell me everything, in full detail, lots of juicy four letter words please.'

So I did as she asked and started by saying. 'First I'll tell you how it all begins.

It was the second week of Susan's parents' trip, I had arrived a bit early and as the class was still going and because it's a very small hall the only place to stand waiting is against one of the side walls.

Nothing happened the first week, I picked up the girls and drove Susan and then Belinda home. The first evening Susan sat in front and Belinda in the back, so I only caught occasional glimpses of her through the rear-view mirror, but even so, I thought something about her face was vaguely familiar. For most of the trip the girls were so busy chatting about the evening's work they said virtually nothing to me, until Susan said thank-you when she got out. Then, although Belinda didn't live far from Susan, she said the route was complicated, so she got into the front seat to guide me - and that's when I noticed her hands.

I have always loved Degas' work, mainly because he was such a master at painting the girls' hands, and when I saw Belinda's face in profile I immediately knew where I had seen her before, in this picture of the dancer tying her laces.

On and off during the next couple of days I found myself thinking about her, about her hands I mean, and, so I'd have a chance to have a proper look at the rest of her when I went to pick them up the next evening I got there a little earlier than necessary.

Because she is a little older than most of the other girls Belinda is not only a bit taller but her figure is more developed, and although I try not to, I find it hard to keep my eyes off her. Both she and Susan obviously see me arrive but although after giving me a quick smile Susan's attention returns to what she is doing, I notice that Belinda keeps glancing across to where I'm standing.

Then, during the drive to Susan's place, it's clear she is doing her best to include me in their chatter, from time to time giving me a knowing smile when Susan seems determined to just prattle on. This time it's Susan who is sitting in the back of the car so I have a better chance to see Belinda's hands. They really are extraordinarily beautiful, long, slenderly tapering fingers and skin very much like yours, so white it's almost translucent, allowing the veins running along their backs to show clearly through. But, again just like yours, they are not just beautiful to look at, I discover that when she uses them to highlight what she is saying they are also very expressive.

After I dropped Susan off Belinda made a comment as to how difficult men must find such childish babble, then, although I was concentrating on remembering the complex route, I got the feeling she was watching me, closely.

But she said very little during the rest of the drive and apart from giving me a rather wistful smile when we arrived and she thanked me for the lift, she got out and disappeared indoors.

Again I found myself thinking about her during the intervening days, picturing her as she sat in the car with me, feeling her watching me. And then picturing her hands, imagining what delightful things such beautiful, expressive hands could do for me.

So it's not surprising that the next time I again arrived a little earlier than necessary, and took the opportunity to watch Belinda's lithe but shapely body in action. Then the class came to an end and Susan came over and asked if I would mind waiting a bit longer. She explained that they have been rehearsing for an end of year show for the girls' parents and the instructor wanted a run through with the girls having principal roles, and Belinda is one of those. I said it wasn't a problem and while Susan went off to get her things, I continued to stand watching.

It wasn't a dress rehearsal but even without costumes it was immediately clear from the music and the girls' movements that the piece had an oriental theme, so there was even more arm and hand movement than there would be in a classical work. When Belinda started dancing I became quite mesmerised by her movements and then found myself again imagining what her hands might feel like. So it wasn't long before I realised I was developing a hard-on and by the time they came to the end of the piece I had a full-blown erection. Although I tried to make it less obvious by discretely adjusting its position I wasn't sure that I had been completely successful.

Anyway, the girls finished, collected their things and with Belinda again sitting in front next to me we got on our way. After I dropped Susan off Belinda asked if I liked the piece she was rehearsing. I told her I liked it very much and that I would like to see it in costume.

'It's quite different to what we normally do, you know, classical stuff. It's much more sensual, quite sexy don't you think?' she asked.

I said I agreed and then she said. 'Could I ask a very personal question?'

I had no idea what was coming and told her she could, but I certainly wasn't expecting the question she asked.

'Did you get aroused during the piece? I mean, you know, physically.'

To cover my embarrassment I blustered something about that being a bit too personal, but she said I was being silly and I suppose I thought I really had no choice but to say that I did. At that she gave me a broad grin and said. 'I thought so, I didn't think I was wrong about what was causing the bulge in the front of your trousers, it really was very obvious. Did you get that from just watching me?'

'Yes I did, you're very attractive, and have beautiful hands.' I blurted.

I could tell from the tone in her voice that she was as surprised by my reply as I had been by her initial question. 'Beautiful hands? You were watching my hands?'

'Yes, as well as being beautiful they're very expressive. Their movements were, well, almost hypnotic.' I add.

'And you got an erection from just watching them?'

'Mmm, yes I did.'

'That's amazing!' she gasped. 'I thought you were probably thinking about something else, but you were just thinking about me jerking you off, weren't you?'

The explicitness of her language took me by surprise and I could only nod in reply.

She paused for a moment, obviously considering something, then, as she edged closer, she said in a much softer, lower tone. 'Would you like me to actually do that?'

I was still wrestling with how to answer her when she quite literally took matters into her own hands, leaning across and pushing both of them down between my legs. Although the erection I'd got in the hall had obviously lost some of its rigidity, having her next to me in the car had kept my cock hard, and the moment her hands closed over it I felt fresh blood surging into it.

She must have felt the movement and pulling my leg to one side with one hand, she pressed the other down more firmly, trying unsuccessfully to curl her fingers around the shaft. 'I'd really like to do it for you, so why don't you just find somewhere quiet to pull over.' she said.

I did as she suggested and that was the first time, in the car. While I was unzipping and pushing down my trousers and pants she got some tissues out of her bag and then without any fuss, very efficiently got me off.'

'That doesn't sound very exciting.' Katherine said.

'No, the first time isn't, I don't go back to it very often. But in my head it sort of, well, sets the scene I suppose. Explains how all the others come about. If you know what I mean.'

'Yes I do. But now tell me about what else happens, and remember, I want all the juicy details please.'

'I'd better explain something about her background first. Belinda doesn't have a father, well at least he doesn't live with them, it's just she and her mother. Naturally her mother has to work and occasionally her job keeps her late, so that creates opportunities for Belinda and I to be together. Sometimes she comes to my place after school, less often I go to hers, and sometimes we go out somewhere. But most of the time we meet at the rehearsal hall. If Belinda wants to do some extra practice she will stay on after everyone else has gone and because she is older the teacher trusts her to lock-up afterwards. On those evenings she rings me and when she asks if I can give her a lift home, I know the coast will be clear for us.

She usually likes to dance for me for a while, telling me to take my clothes off first, so she can watch my reaction to her, see how long it takes me to get an erection. She has previously told me how much she likes to see it growing, getting longer and fatter, then getting harder and slowly jerking upwards. Told me how excited she always gets when she watches it getting bigger, that she likes the feeling she gets from the fact that it's her that's making me react so strongly.

Then after we have been seeing each other for quite some time she adds an extra dimension to what we are doing by leaving her tights off. Of course at first I don't know she has done that, she's wearing a diaphanous skirt, but its long and pretty full and as I'm busy watching her hands and the rest of her body I don't notice that her legs are bare.

At first she's careful to dance in a quite restrained style, but then she does a fast but particularly energetic spin, which make the skirt whirl upwards, and as it does I get a momentary flash of her bare bottom.

My initial reaction is to suppose I have made a mistake, thinking she must be wearing a particularly sheer pair of tights. Of course even that idea is arousing. But when she does a more complicated move, holding the hem of her skirt as she turns while lifting one leg really high, I see the dark brown patch of pubic hair, and get a glimpse of her pussy.

Her eyes are fixed on my cock and she gives a tense smile when she sees the strength of my reaction, then tells me to sit on a nearby chair so I have a better angle to see her from.

Having discarded the skirt she dances for me, her lower half completely naked, flaunting herself proudly, doing everything she can think of that will show her pussy off to me. Just watching her is unbelievably exciting, I can feel my heart pounding, and the blood surging through my veins. And of course my cock is behaving like a wild thing, throbbing and jerking about quite uncontrollably.

She tells me later that it's doubly exciting for her. There's the excitement of seeing my response, seeing my cock getting so massively engorged, reacting so powerfully. But she tells me she also gets a real kick from having me looking at her pussy, finds it exciting to be showing herself off like that.'

'I would too.' Katherine said softly.

'I beg your pardon?' I said, not sure I'd heard her properly.

'I said I would find that exciting too, showing myself off to you like that.'

'Really?'

'Mmm, but let's talk about that later, please carry on with your fantasy, I like it.'

'OK. Let's see. Of course she's not naked every time but whether she is or not, and just like you, she likes to tease me. She not only makes her movements really raunchy but sometimes uses other tricks too. For instance, when she's dressed in her tutu she dances closer, making the edge of the stiffened lace graze the head of my cock each time she pirouettes in front of me, things like that.

But whatever she does she always watches my cock really intently, and although normally I'm not allowed to touch myself, sometimes she'll ask me to, ask me to stroke it, but tells me to do it very, very slowly. And she always makes me wait a long time before she finally touches me with her hands. Then what she does to me depends on how she feels at the time. Sometimes, if she knows she has teased me beyond endurance, she'll do it really quickly, but usually not, she usually prefers to do it slowly, watching the effect she has on me as the pressure inside me grows stronger and stronger.'

'Apart from having her handle you, do you ever do anything else with her?' Katherine asked.

'Sometimes.' I replied.

'What sort of things? Do you have sex with her?'

'Not very often, there have been times when she has really needed me to. I usually either get her off with my hand, or go down on her. What sometimes happens is that when she starts to handle me I tell her how wonderfully soft her fingers are. Then when she replies - 'There are parts of me that are even softer.' - that's when I know she wants me to do it for her.'

'When you do have sex with her, is she a virgin?'

'Not physically, but I am the first man she's had sex with.'

'And where does it happen?'

'The first time?'

'Yes.'

'In the rehearsal hall. She was dressed like that.' I said, pointing to the picture.