Caitlin Writes Ch. 02

"How's that? Not too comfortable, I hope?" I squirmed, but my hands were very secure, not so high as to hurt but certainly high enough as to render me incapacitated. There was no way of fighting back - I couldn't even kick out, or I'd lose my balance. He came over, leaned in so close that I could feel the stubble on my ear.

"No more instructions, ever. You will do as you're told, Caitlin." He stepped back, the dangerous smile still in place. "I think the terms of our original agreement may still stand. Let's get to know each other a little better!"

"And how exactly do you see that happening?"

"I'm guessing, from the way you have carried yourself this morning - caught naked between two young men, yet still quite sure of yourself - in fact, Asok, I might even be tempted to say bolshie - that you have issues. To clarify; I think you're unhappy with your sex life. I think you are desperate for more, and I think that telling us about it might help." It's an uncanny thing, when someone speaks out loud that little gem that you kept hidden under the mattress of your subconscious. It must have showed in my demeanour, my failure to respond. He continued. "It would seem here we have an ideal way forward. You share with us some detail of the sex life you would like, some fantasy you thought would never find an appropriate forum, and Asok will remove an item of clothing." Up until that point the Cheshire cat looked miserable alongside the young Asian, but that smile quickly dropped. The deal actually seemed fine to me, in fact I was worried that once started Asok would not have enough clothing to continue the game.

"And what happens if Asok runs out of clothes?"

"Perhaps I can find new ways to reward your confidences," he said with sincerity.

"Then we have an agreement," I said.

As if knowing my intimate needs more than I did myself, Skipper motioned for Asok to kill the harsh fluorescent lights. The diffused daylight through the frosted skylights was much better, and suited the mood. We made ourselves comfortable on the bench, with Skipper on my right and Asok on my left. Some of the bravado seemed to evaporate, so I asked one of them to get me started. Asok started pawing at my breast and I had to slap his hand away.

"Asok! Not like that, she means she wants to be asked about things, have the stories started off, not her orgasm!" Skipper was a little harsh, and I felt sorry for the young man.

"Okay, I'll start with the questions. Can you remember the first fantasy you had?" Thank you Skipper, for an easy one to start off with.

"I can. I first had it on my very first day at University. You have to remember my parents were very strict Catholics, so university was a liberal culture shock from what I was used to."

"You never had a fantasy before then?" asked Asok with wide eyes.

"I never even had a kiss by then," I said wistfully. "Then on the first day of university I saw my husband. Well, I knew he was going to be my husband; he didn't, not then. He caught me looking at him, and he came over to say hi. I ran away. For six months I refused to speak to him, I was so shy! That night, I had a fantasy about us getting married. As I became more aware, sexually, it focussed on our wedding night. He would carry me over the threshold, and straight up to the bedroom.

Laying on my back, still in my wedding dress and shoes, he would start kissing my neck, my ears, my face, but never my mouth. From my neck he would move downwards, a trail of kisses leading into my cleavage. Gently he would ease my breasts free of the wedding dress and love them too. All this time he would slowly be gathering the dress up until it was around my waist.

"Once he could get access, his head would disappear beneath my dress. He would pepper my thighs with kisses, plant them all over my virginal little pussy too, but only ever through the material of my knickers. When I couldn't help myself, I would pull my knickers aside myself so that he could... Attend to me properly. He would lick, and kiss, and suck, until I was screaming.

"Finally I would have to have him inside me. I would pull him up onto the bed, throw him on his back. Not stopping even to remove my knickers I would free him. He was already hard for me, and immediately I would sit astride him, slowly lowering myself onto his cock. I would ride him, easy at first because it hurt, but then harder. My breasts would be bouncing, and he would play with them. We would screw like that, man and wife, Mr. And Mrs. That was my first fantasy, and it seems live I relived it every night for three years, until we got married the week after we both graduated."

I paused for breath, but that was the end of the tale anyway. I realised that was actually the first time I'd spoken it out loud. I never expected anyone else to find it sexy. Skipper's prick had hardened substantially, but nowhere near what I knew it could reach. Asok was already wriggling on the seat and adjusting his trouser. I smiled. Was that really the power that erotic words held?

"Thank you Caitlin, that was terrific. Asok, it's time to reciprocate, if you please." Nervously, he took two paces to the middle of the room. He wore sandals and sock, knee length khaki shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, which he unfastened to reveal a wiry upper body without a trace of fat. He folded his shirt fussily, which seemed out of place, believing his ordeal over for now. Skipper resumed the role of ringmaster.

"Caitlin, do you recall the first fantasy that didn't involve your husband?"

"Well, the next one I formulated sort of did and didn't have him in. His parents were reasonably well off, comfortable by my family's standards, and they paid for us to go to Paris on our honeymoon. Paris was decadence, so far as I could tell, but up until that point I'd only ever seen the little village on the Irish coast, where I was born, and Sheffield, when I came here to study. Paris seemed like the place that the priests warned me off, where I would be led into temptation."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Oh God, I loved it! Paris had life, like I had never seen. After Paris I had an imagination. We visited the theatres, and that's when I fell in love with the theatre, and why I still work in them now. But one night we found ourselves in a restaurant, bar sort of thing with a stage. I didn't know what it was, but girls came on stage, danced about in their underclothes. I think my husband was a little ashamed at first, he had no idea what the place was and was worried I would be offended. I couldn't tell him how it made me feel. Even then I thought he was more reserved than me."

"So how did it make you feel?" Skipper probed.

"I'm coming to it! That night, after we had made love, I lay awake for hours thinking about the bar, and the girls dancing on stage in their underwear. The power they had over the men in the audience was incredible, they were cheering and applauding, leaving money on the stage for the girls to collect. That night I dreamt about being on the stage, and having men watch me. Not just watch me, but want me. They all wanted to be with me, and I loved that feeling. My husband was in the audience, and was proud that all the other man wanted me, but happy that he was the only one that could ever have me. That was the first night I really masturbated. Before that, I would just sort of cup my fanny with my hands."

There was silence for a second, before Skipper extended a hand to bid Asok take the floor. With less trepidation than the first time he did so, wobbling on alternative legs as he removed first one sandal, then the other. I felt a little cheated because he was no more naked than before - he could have taken his socks off! I was warming to the game now, and felt that I probably had enough stories in me to strip him completely. I opened my mouth to continue, but Asok stopped me with a question.

"Caitlin, would you mind me asking if you ever had fantasies involving another woman?" Ah, the perennial staple of men's fantasies.

"To be truthful, Asok, no. Funnily, my girlfriends and I were talking about this a couple of days ago. A couple of them are given to kissing each other on nights out, but it's more for effect and I don't think they've ever gone further."

"So you haven't been with another woman? You wouldn't want to?" he persisted.

"I haven't, and I can't imagine doing. It's never been a fantasy. It seems like something young women are given to these days," I sighed, "but I'm not a young woman now." His hangdog look suggested I'd disappointed him a little, so I decided to cheer him by embellishing the truth slightly. "I suppose if it happened, I wouldn't say no, but she would have to take the lead. I wouldn't know what to do." He looked happier at the thought of me being a submissive lesbian, so I smiled and left it there.

"Thank you again, Caitlin. I believe that counts as a story shared, so Asok, please?" Dutifully he removed his socks and, determined to have him naked soon, I continued.

"Whilst in Paris, we happened across a couple making love. We were lost down some side street, and we ambled down a dead end. He had a cheap street map and was determined to make sense of the French directions. We daren't even stop to ask directions, our French was so bad. Anyway, it got darker and we were down this side road, hadn't even passed another soul in ten minutes. He was under a streetlight looking at the map, and I heard a woman talk, so I wondered off down what turned out to be a dead end.

I saw them, a young girl and a man quite a bit older. Maybe she was a working girl, I never really thought about it. Well, not that aspect of it. I saw them kiss and thought about interrupting, but then she undid his trousers and all I could do was hide behind some rubbish. She took his cock out, started to rub it. He was quite rough with her, forced her head down onto his cock, held it in place by grabbing a handful of hair. She didn't seem to mind, quite enthusiastic she seemed from the noises she was making. I could hear the noises from my hiding place.

"Obviously at some point he'd had enough of that and wanted something more. He dragged her to her feet and pressed her up against the wall. He fumbled with her clothing, I assume pulling up her skirt and dealing with her knickers, then pretty much just stuck it in her with no finesse. I remember her squealing, and also thinking it wasn't just a cry of pain.

"I could see he wasn't really comfortable, crouching as he was. He got his hands under her bum and just lifted her off the floor. She wrapped her legs around his waist and that's when it struck me what a waif she was. He fucked her hard and I remember thinking that that was what the word 'pummelling' was invented for. It was hard, and brutal, and she squealed and moaned all the way through. My husband called my name and at that time the waif looked up, also hearing the noise. I ran away, but I'm sure that we made eye contact as I turned to run. Since then, I've always wondered about being watched during sex; me being watched by someone else, watching two others do it, even what might have happened if I'd stayed to watch after the girl had seen me."

Skipper breathed out, and I realised he'd been holding his breath for a while. I also realised that I'd played into his hands if he cared to bring the bathroom incident up again. His cock was fully hard now, and really beautiful in its excited state. I wished we were alone, and then regretted thinking it. Asok stood automatically the second Skipper looked at him, and with ever increasing trepidation wriggled out of his shorts. The outline of his boxers suggested he too was aroused, and I was again secretly gladdened and thankful that I could raise young men to this state. I wanted to see Asok naked; I imagined the way his penis would look and the way it would feel in my hand. I imagined Asok's being chestnut brown, like his skin, compared to Skipper's wonderful whiteness. I thought about taking man in each hand and comparing them, only stopping when I became aware of a dampness between my legs that had nothing to do with my sojourn in the showers.

"Would you like to contribute another story?" Skipper suggested quietly. I would. Firstly I wanted to see Asok naked, but mostly I wanted to see if I could really arouse Skipper, reduce him to his most base urge and make him want to fuck me, plead with me to be allowed entrance to my vagina. Then, I would say no, at least for a while, just to savour that power over him.

"I do have another story. It's shorter, and was precipitated by something that happened before I was married, and only found a way into my secret dreams much later, when the first rush of marriage was cooling.

"I called at the house he used to share with his friends. I liked his friends and I think they liked me, all except one boy. Isn't there always one? I rather suspected they all had a joke at my sexual naiveté, and mocked my husband for his patience in waiting for me, but this boy was worse. Sly remarks, nasty comments, haughty looks. I was too much the little girl in the big city then, and wouldn't stand up for myself. I could never understand why they were friends.

"I was due to meet him at his house, and was running early. I knew he was likely to still be in a lecture, but I knew his housemates wouldn't mind me being there. One of them let me in and a bunch of us watched TV for a while. I was cold, so I went to fetch a sweater from his room.

"At the top of the stairs I heard a noise as I passed this bully's room. Looking slyly through a gap, I saw him playing with himself. He was looking at a magazine. I moved on quickly, retrieved a sweater and went downstairs. The bully came down ten minutes later, and went out of the house once he saw I was there.

"I gave it five minutes and excused myself to the toilet. Of course, I sneaked into his room and the magazine was still there on the bed. It was full of men and women naked; men having sex with women, two women together, one woman with two men, women with plastic things in both holes. I was young, naïve and stunned. I only looked for two or three minutes, but thought about it for weeks. I obsessed over it, totally. I even thought about asking the bully if he had any more. I realised, my interest lay not in the acts depicted in those grubby, creased pages, but in the thoughts and motives of the people in the photos. Why let people see you doing this private, intimate act?

"I'd almost forgotten about the magazine until Paris, when I saw the couple having sex. There was a power in having people see you, whether you were having sex or dancing on a stage. Even the risk that someone might see you added something, although I knew not what back then. Fact, I'm not even sure I know now." And that, friends, was the end of another story.

There was absolute quiet. Neither of them were breathing audibly, and there was a vitality, sensuousness in the atmosphere. My heart raced like no other occasion I could recall. At a word from Skipper Asok was on his feet, thumbs hooked in the waistband of his shorts. He paused - I imagine this is not how he foresaw his Sunday morning - and looked at me. I felt sorry for him, he looked so nervous. I so wished there was something I could do to put him at ease, but of coure there wasn't and a second later the point became moot. His prick was his body in microcosm, long and wiry, with the promise of latent strength. This moment was all about Asok overcoming the trepidation that literally made him tremble.

"Asok, you have a terrific body," I soothed, wishing I could trace my fingers across his chest, bolster his confidence. "and a beautiful penis."

Anxiety fought a pitched battle with pride for control of Asok. How fragile young men could be; not the blustering oafs one could see dozens of on a saturday night, but perhaps suffering their own crises over their looks and desirability. Some young men; the other one in here with me never looked as though he encountered such thoughts.

"The magazine I saw in the bully's room? There was one particular photoset that turned me on more than the others. One man was sat in a chair, watching a man receive a blowjob from a gorgeous young blonde. It excited me, the man watching the other man receiving oral sex, but then I realised he was tied down to the chair at his wrists and ankles with coarse rope.

"I realised then he wasn't just watching, but he was straining to join in. It must have been agony to be watching, bound, but even worse when the woman started to touch him and he could do nothing himself. Eventually the woman was standing, bent over at the waist with her palms wresting on the man's knees for support, as she got fucked from behind by a second man. She was using the man in the chair as a prop, a support, and even though with each thrust their lips came close enough to kiss she did nothing to include him in their sex act. He may as well not have been there.

"Such torture! I imagined the scene myself, at night. At first my husband was fucking me, which was a nice fantasy. Then as I grew more confident it was my husband bound to the chair. Finally, it was I in the chair as my husband screwed another woman. I would imagine being in that chair, the other woman so close, me straining to kiss her just for some form of contact, but never being allowed to do so."

"I liked that one," Skipper said with a grin. "Definitely my sort of story! So that leads us on to the matter of what, now that we are all naked, we are to do in return for your story?" Actually, I already had an answer to that one worked out...

I beckoned Asok forward. It may have been I who was bound, but I thought I might still have a little power to wield. I whispered my instructions and Asok, mesmerised, carried them out. He was behind me, kissing my neck and reaching round to massage my boobs as his erection pressed into my lower back. Warm water triclked between us and once he started using shower gel too, the manifold sensations left me almost unable to carry on. I tried to imagine the way I looked to my audience of one, hands tied above me head, being groped by a man twenty years younger than me that I'd known for twenty minutes. I liked imagining how it looked; it made me feel hot.

"Ready to continue, Caitlin?"

"I think I can find one or two things that would be suitable for the occasion," I breathed, pausing because the next one was one that I hadn't told anyone else, ever, and I didn't even think about it that often because it was about the most extreme fantasy I had. I think that says something about my relative inexperience given my age.

"The fantasies that I had about being a dancer, the ones I told you earlier, started to progress as I grew older. Whereas at first I was just dancing and enjoying the adulation, the evolution of my fantasies led to me imagine taking my clothes off, stripping for the audience. Over time I dreamt about removing more until I was dancing naked. Then, the basis of my fantasy audience changed to being solely male. No waitresses, no girls behind the bar, I was the only woman in the building.

"After that I went further and further with my act. I kissed the men in the nearest row to the stage, allowed them to touch me. I never touched them in return; they were the ones who could not control themselves.No longer able contain their excitement, several of the men storm the stage. I'm naked but for high heels, and they're all wearing suits and tuxedos. I dance around them, and one by one they all start to take out their penises and play with them. I touch their chests, squeeze their biceps, stroke their faces, but I won't touch their erections. By their faces I can see that they are frustrated, they want to go further. They want me to play with their pricks, go down on them, suck and squeeze their balls, but I refuse.