That Special Someone

"Good morning, Missy." She sounded as bright as the sunshine.

"Morning Mary. Where's our lord and master?"

"Mr Eric's unpacking his cameras. He said I should help you prepare, after breakfast." She pointed to a tray on the dresser: fresh fruit, coffee, warm rolls, little dishes of butter and preserves. The condemned woman's last meal? I flicked off the sheet and got up. I was pleased with myself when I realized I'd never even hesitated to get out of bed naked in front of a stranger. Of course, she was naked already, which probably helped.

I paused by a cheval glass to look at myself and Mary came to stand beside me. She was a little taller and willowy, her skin, dark chocolate velvet, made me look deathly pale.

"Do you often do your chores in..." I gestured at her skin.

"Oh yes Missy. All the time. Pierre and I dressed yesterday because you were a stranger but Mr Eric says it is alright today. He says you are his new model."

"Have you modelled for Mr Eric?" I rather liked that semi-formal, semi-familiar mode of address.

"Oh yes, Missy. Lots of times. Pierre too."

I suddenly recalled the images in the gallery, the first time I went in there: One of a black cock with a silver chain around it, sunk into what I now recognised as Helen's ass. Pierre?

While I sipped OJ and munched on a croissant, Mary quickly made the bed and picked clothes off the floor, folding them or hanging them as required.

"Mary?"

"Yes Missy?"

"When you said prepare me..."

Mary grinned in a not at all servile way. "Shave you, Missy."

She was looking right at my crotch now and, for the first time since I'd woken up, I felt a twinge of emotional discomfort. I'd been braced for the idea of B and Helen shaving my pubic hair, but they were my lovers. Naked she may be, but this woman was a stranger and Eric had just assumed I'd submit to this.

"And this was Eric's idea?"

"Oh yes, Missy. It's my job. Miss B and Miss Helen prefer waxing, but Mr Eric said to shave you instead."

"Why instead?"

"Waxing hurts, Missy. Mr Eric said I wasn't to wax you. He said nothing that hurts you, Missy. He said that comes later." Her eyes said she knew what he'd meant by that.

"And do you wax? Or shave?" I wanted to gain back some of the ground I'd lost in the Mistress/servant hierarchy. I put down my OJ and walked towards Mary, stopping within reach and nonchalantly stroking one finger over her mons veneris. It was very smooth.

"Pierre shaves me, Missy. We shave each other." She didn't move as I touched her.

"Pierre... is shaved?" I wondered how absurd that would look.

"Oh yes, Missy. I don't like a man with a beard." She stroked her chin and laughed at my misunderstanding.

I joined in the laughter – it's a great tension breaker. It just hadn't occurred to me she'd meant his face.

"Ok Mary, let's do it." I turned on one heel and headed for the bathroom with Mary close behind me.

* * * * *

"Missy. Mr Eric says to hurry up and get dressed." I was still naked after my ablutions, sitting at the dressing table, drying my hair. Mary had left me to it when she took the remains of breakfast away but was now bustling around again, laying out underwear and a white cotton frock.

"Dressed? I thought he was setting up his cameras."

"He changed his mind I 'spect. He says he's going to take you on a tour of the island."

"Ok... I guess." Was I disappointed that Eric wasn't gagging to get my newly shaven crotch in front of his camera? I chuckled at my own reaction. I was definitely not the same shy girl I'd been a week ago. Before Mary came back I'd been idly fantasizing about Pierre being present while Eric photographed me. I'd wanted to see his reactions because up until now I'd only seen how Eric responded to my little secret and, let's face it, Eric's reactions were hardly likely to be normal, considering his lifestyle and vocation.

* * * * *

"Good morning." I flashed Eric my brightest smile as I flowed up against him before pressing my lips to his neck. I'd found him by the pool, talking to Pierre.

"You look lovely." Eric held me at arms length and looked me up and down.

"Thank you." I dimpled. "Good morning, Pierre." I remembered my manners.

"Morning Miss Kelsey." Pierre replied. His dark face was split by a pearly grin as I caught him checking me out too – from behind. He had shorts on but I stared pointedly at his crotch, looking for signs of life and to let him know I was ok with him ogling my backside.

"I thought we were doing photos this morning." I returned my attention to Eric, whose own attention was entirely fixed on the view down the front of my dress.

"Change of plans. I've decided I want today to be special... for both of us. A little bit of romance before 'prom night'. Do you get seasick?"

"I don't know. Why?" Truth be told, I was glad of an opportunity to keep my clothes on. I don't mind being naked in front of Eric anymore but I'm nowhere near exhibitionist enough to enjoy having his camera between my legs. I did it in New York to prove something to myself and I'd do it again, just because Eric asked me to, but if I don't have to... "Pardon? Sorry. I was miles away."

"I said we're taking out B's yacht for the day." Eric repeated with a smile.

"B has a yacht?"

"A graduation present from her boyfriend. It belonged to my father but I renamed it 'Honey B' and signed it over to her. Shall we go?" He offered me his arm and led the way to the jeep we'd arrived in. "Pierre, please tell Mary I'll have Cinderella back home by six and could we have dinner at eight?"

"Ok, Mr Eric." Pierre replied, his eyes still finding excuses to stray towards my bottom.

* * * * *

"Eric. Wait." I pushed against his chest to get some breathing space while his encircling arms still held me close at the waist: close enough that every inch of his burgeoning erection seemed to be pressed to my thigh. As he leant towards me to kiss my neck some more, I tried to speak again. "Eric. Stop it. Please."

"What's wrong?" He did stop, but he didn't let go of me.

"Eric, today's been wonderful..." It had! The yacht trip was beautiful and, thanks to Eric, wonderfully romantic. Dinner had been sumptuous and I'd just been carried up candlelit stairs to my bedroom. "But it's not why I'm here, is it?"

"Go on." Eric looked perplexed. I continued.

"This is what I dreamt of in high school: romance, candles, to give myself to a boy I was in love with. But I'm not in love with you, Eric, and I know that you don't love me, so all this is hollow. I didn't come to you for romance. I came to you to model and wonderful as today has been, if you don't capture this moment for posterity, you'll regret it and... I think... so will I." I kissed him then because his mouth was open and it seemed rude to ignore such an invitation. I think it was the first time I'd taken the lead in one of our oral tangos. Then I pushed hard enough against his chest to escape his embrace. "Go and get your camera." I opened the door for him and flipped the light switch on.

I was emptying my bladder when Mary joined me in the bathroom. From the muffled sound of conversation beyond the door, I surmised that Pierre was helping Eric set things up.

"Mr Eric says he's ready when you are, Missy." Mary picked up my dress, discarded on the floor, and fussed over it while I finished peeing. I wondered if she and Pierre were going to leave before... Oddly, I realized I didn't really mind if they stayed. How far I'd come from the innocent who walked into the Greenwich Village gallery a few weeks ago.

"Ready as I'll ever be." I reached for my panties as I stood up. They were all I was wearing but I did want Eric to be the one to take them off: one last symbol of my innocence.

"Ok Missy." Mary left while I was washing my hands.

No moral support for my grand entrance then. I paused at the door, took a deep breath, told myself I was doing the right thing and walked into the bedroom.

Big umbrellas on tripods blazed with light. I struck a classic pose on the door jamb, arm stretched up it, hip cocked slightly forward, one knee bent slightly in front of the other. "I'm ready for my close-up, Mr De Mille."

"Not quite ready." Eric turned and appraised me, eyes lingering on the panties. He passed the camera he was holding to Pierre and closed the gap between us, kissing me ferociously. His thumbs hooked into the waistband of my panties and he whispered. "Do you want to be alone?"

"I want you." My voice was husky with pent up lust.

"I meant Pierre and Mary." Eric's hands still hadn't moved.

"I know you did, Silly. No, I don't mind if they stay." I kissed him, willing him to shut up and get on with it. He got the message loud and clear, my panties slid down my thighs and went into freefall. As Eric stepped back from me, I stepped out of the last remnant of my clothes and let him lead me to the bed.

As I sat on the edge of the bed and unfastened his trousers, Pierre moved closer, to hand Eric his camera while Mary moved to one of the tripods and peeped at the viewfinder of a video camera. I noticed there were two video cameras pointed at the bed. Eric clearly wanted to record this event for posterity.

His cock sprung out as his trousers fell and I hungrily wrapped my lips around it, feeling it firm up in my mouth. I was vaguely aware of the click of the camera shutter and movement as Mary crouched down to remove his fallen trousers from round his ankles.

It took only moments for Eric's cock to reach oak-like rigidity and for him to gently push me back onto the bed. I lay back eagerly, all hesitation gone, spread my legs as wide as I could and listened to the click of the shutter as Eric knelt, moving ever closer to the scene of the crime. And it was a crime to have denied myself so much for so long but since I was victim, perpetrator and judge, I commuted my sentence to time served.

"Show me." Eric asked. Obediently, I reached down and spread my newly smooth labia so that, from his kneeling position, Eric could photograph the last moments of my hymen.

"Mary." At Eric's mention of her name, Mary moved onto the bed beside me and replaced my hands with hers. "Good." Eric said as he clicked away. "Excellent. Kelsey, lift your legs up for me."

When Eric was satisfied he'd taken enough pictures, Mary got off the bed and went back behind the video camera without a word. Eric placed his camera beside my thighs and moved until his cock was brushing against my parted labia. Then he picked up the camera again and pointed it right at my face.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Yes. Owwww!"

Without warning, he'd thrust into me, breaking through my hymen in one push. I cried out as the sharp pain arced through me like an electric shock. I didn't hear the rapid clicking of the camera and I couldn't see clearly because my eyes were filling with tears. I lost track of events for a few moments, until the pain subsided and I felt Eric slowly easing back out of my pussy. There was more clicking then more, but slight, discomfort as he eased back into me. That was it! Done! No longer a virgin. I tried to relax and let the pent up emotions of too many years out while Eric slowly stoked the fire he'd started in my abdomen. Discomfort turned to pleasure and I started to moan, prompting him to increase the tempo of his thrusts.

I cried out again as I climaxed and Eric groaned and flooded my body with hot semen. I don't know how much of the discomfort had been my hymen and how much was down to Eric's prodigious size but in that moment of ecstatic endorphin rush, I didn't care.

When I came down from my orgasm, breathing heavily and feeling inordinately pleased with myself, the camera was clicking again. I opened my eyes and watched Eric photographing my blood on his penis as he slowly withdrew. He caught my eye and smiled then photographed my face, tearstained but smug looking, before kneeling to survey his handiwork and to take more images of my pussy, this time gaping slightly, engorged, bloody and with semen oozing slowly from it.

While I lay in that blissed out fugue, Mary joined me on the bed and oh-so-gently wiped my face with a damp cloth. "Feeling ok now, Missy?"

"Yes, thank you Mary. Feeling wonderful. And thank you for being here - you and Pierre – It feels more... special with witnesses."

"Like at a wedding?" Mary asked.

"Yes... Just like witnesses at a wedding, except the man I eloped with is going to go back to his other 'wives' in a couple of days." And I didn't even mind that. On balance, I'd have to say I'd traded one majorly screwed up attitude for another.

"Can you spread yourself again, please?" Eric interrupted my reverie.

"Sure." I obliged, gingerly easing my labia apart and wincing at my own tenderness but, wanting the pictures as much as Eric did, I put up with the soreness while he got close-ups of my shredded hymen in gynaecological detail. Mary took over after a few clicks of the camera.

"Mary?"

"Yes Missy?" She answered without letting go of my pussy.

"Isn't cleaning up semen part of your job?"

"Yes Missy."

"Is the blood a problem for you?" C'mon girl. I really wanted to have her 'clean' me now.

"No Missy. Mr Eric?"

"Hell yeah!" Eric voiced his approval and got off his knees so I could see him properly for the first time since he'd breached me. His cock looked just a big but was more vertical than horizontal and glistening with moisture and thin streaks of blood. As Mary took his place between my legs, he sat beside me and leant down to buzz me briefly but passionately before returning to his work, photographing Mary as she lapped up the cocktail of bodily fluids seeping from my pussy.

Eric finished before Mary did but I barely noticed. Her tongue was working wonders down there and I was steadily climbing towards another orgasm when Eric lay down and put his strong arms around me, drawing me close and kissing me once more. I came loudly – at least, it would have been loud if Eric's mouth hadn't been hermetically sealed over mine. He was incredibly attentive now that the photography was completed, caressing my belly and breasts while Mary's tongue probed the tender flesh he'd so brutally possessed only minutes ago.

If I hadn't been so lost in what I was experiencing, I might have spared a thought for poor Pierre, stoically operating a video camera this whole time and missing out on all the fun. I didn't realize until long after my second orgasm that Pierre had in fact deserted his post and was on his knees behind Mary, pumping into her for all he was worth. When I did realize because Mary's increasingly erratic technique alerted me, I propped myself up on my elbows to watch.

In any other company, Pierre would have been a prize stud, but with Eric in the room, his cock looked surprisingly small – an unfair comparison. Mary showed every sign of enjoying it though and Eric grew rigid again as we watched Mary fucked to three orgasms in quick succession before Pierre hosed her cervix down with a low growl of satisfaction and an accompanying squeal of pleasure from her.

After Pierre and Mary had left, unsteadily, for their own quarters, Eric carried me to the shower and was gentleness itself as he soaped and rinsed me from top to toe. I spent a long time washing his amazing erection, thrilling to its silky texture, heat and firmness. Eric patiently let me fondle my new best friend for ages before interrupting with a single word.

"Ready?"

"I've heard that line before." I giggled, recalling that it was the line that finally won my precious virtue – technically.

"Well it worked last time." His smile could only be described as wolfish as he turned off the hot water and wrapped me in a big, fluffy towel, rubbing me briskly dry while I tried to do the same to him.

"I need to pee." I still, after everything, blushed a little as I told him.

"So pee." He released me from the towel and patted my fanny, urging me towards the toilet. As I sat down, not sure I could do this in front of him, he finished drying himself properly. I tried to relax and eventually, my shy bladder gave in. I was a little startled when Eric reached for paper before me but I just spread my thighs and silently let him wipe me.

In bed at last, with all the lights and candles extinguished, Eric reached for me and I flowed into his embrace, reaching for his cock and guiding it between my spread legs. He was gentle, he took me slowly and with tenderness, nuzzling my neck and my breasts as he eased in and out of my body, kissing me whenever our mouths came close and murmuring sweet endearments as he nibbled an earlobe. We made love for hours. At least, it seemed like hours and it seemed like making love, not just fucking. This was the way my prom night should have ended, way back in high school. When he carried me into this bedroom earlier, I'd claimed we weren't in love. By morning, I'd have called myself a liar. I think, in my case at least, making love did just that – made love. I woke to sunlight and the pleasant musk of our bed with Eric snoring softly beside me and I was content – sore, but content.

* * * * *

We had one more day at the beach house before we flew home, to New York and Helen and B, who insisted on me spending one more night with Eric so they could join in the fun.

Then normality returned to my life. Eric insisted that I spend some time away from them, exploring my options and making up for lost time. "Kelsey," He'd said, very earnestly, "your virginity was a novelty but you just wouldn't fit into this madhouse on a day-to-day basis with these two harlots." He indicated Helen and B, who stuck their tongues out at him. "They'd make a pet of you and either push you into things faster than you're comfortable with or be over-protective and make you feel left out."

"So I have to leave?" I was crestfallen. I'd really believed I had a place here.

"You don't have to do anything. But you should leave, get out there and date some other guys, see what the world has to offer you now: Then decide what you really want. At least it'll be an informed decision. Talk to your aunt about it. She's a sensible woman. I'm sure she'll give you good advice." Eric kissed me gently. "Now, I have to go. Meetings. Meetings. Meetings." And he left, just like that.

Helen, B and I all travelled back to Greenwich Village together and mine weren't the only moist eyes as we parted company at the gallery.

"Auntie? I'm back!" I yelled as I climbed the stairs to the apartment.

"Come here, child. Let me look at you." Aunt Tittie stepped out of the kitchen, drying her hands as she appraised me. As soon as I approached her for a hug, she held me at arms length, cocked her head to one side and smiled the most knowing smile I have ever seen. "Oh yes. That young man certainly seems to agree with you." Then she did hug me, squeezing me tight for the longest time.

As we separated, her eyes were just a little moist. She noticed me noticing but was unabashed by her uncharacteristic soppiness. I think my eyes might have been moist too for that matter.

"Oh Auntie, you have no idea."

"I'm sure I do." The knowing twinkle was back with a vengeance. "But don't let that stop you from telling me all about it. Over tea?"

"Tea would be lovely. Shall I make it?" I'd picked up the English vice of tea drinking from Auntie.

"No, dear." She patted my cheek affectionately then returned to the kitchen. With five minutes to myself, I took my bag to my room and took a moment to splash some cold water on my face.

Over tea, I told Auntie everything. She surprised me by not looking shocked at any of it and I surprised myself by being able to tell her absolutely every detail without feeling embarrassed. It was, on one level, very sexy to be able to share like this. On another level, it brought us closer together as confidantes as well as relatives: Closer than I think I've ever been to my mother. Aunt Tittie kept her own counsel while I was relating my adventures but did return the favour over the next few days, talking much more openly about her own past and her surprisingly many sexual adventures.