Juanita 'n Dito Ch. 04-06

Dear reader,

You might like to know what happened before. My advice: read ch. 1-3 first. The playlist you can find on Spotify under the same name: Juanita 'n Dito.

I like your comments likes and dislikes, but please tell me what you didn't like!

Hope you enjoy it.

D.

04 In the swimming pool

While you read this part of the story, listen to the album:

The Serpent's Egg by Dead Can Dance

The contents of the library became an embarrassing revelation. Little by little it revealed its secrets. My father owned an indescribably large collection of hardcovers, paperbacks, magazines and bundled manuscripts, which largely covered only one aspect of love. Power and powerlessness, dominance and submissiveness, sadism and masochism came back in all the books I picked up, like Yin and Yang. Masters and slaves, Dominants and submissives, each book contained a relationship that had to do with domination and surrender. Of course I had had an idea of his dominant nature but that it went this far...

Nevertheless, I couldn't resist taking a book to read every day. I had to admit that in a certain way it became more and more fascinating, even exciting. The days that I had to work, I tried to do what I had to do as quickly as possible. When I got home I ran down the stairs into the wine cellar, pulled a random bottle out of the rows, went upstairs and took the waiter's knife from the glove compartment where I had put it the day after my daring revelation of the secrets my father had.

While I was walking to the library I tried to remove the foil with the knife from the neck and before I reached the desk the trigger was already in the cork. The glass was usually on the desk or on a table and I was not interested in whether it had a bottom from the previous day. As soon as I had poured the glass I walked to the far corner and took the roll ladder with me. I placed my glass next to the lamp, on that damn display cabinet, which looked at me almost grinning. "You can read everything but this remains my secret," it seemed to say.

As I climbed the ladder, I muttered, "You will come too." I only spent those first weeks with books I took from the top two rows of the first cupboard. There was no order for me at first. I did see that there were series in other cupboards. I picked up a random book, took it down the ladder, grabbed my glass and headed toward the desk.

Those first days I did not dare to sit in the armchairs. Bent over the desk I tried to read such a book in one shot. I woke up twice in the morning while my head rested on an open book. Three times I was late for work. I hardly ate. I usually forgot that I also had to eat. After a few days, I exchanged the office chair for one of the armchairs. I kicked off my shoes, just took the trouble of taking off my jacket or vest, folded my feet under my buttocks and started reading.

After a few weeks, I was about halfway through the second row, when I came down the ladder with a bulky volume, I pushed my wineglass from the display cabinet. "Ohh fuck!!"

I ran to the kitchen to get a cloth and came back with an old tea towel. I carefully dipped the red puddle off the floor, the cloth sucked the wine up. From the cabinet wine dripped on the floor. Back to the kitchen, meanwhile carefully trying to not spill too much. While I started cleaning the cabinet from below on my knees, I looked up, under the shade of the Art Deco lamp. For the first time I saw the head of the woman hiding under the lampshade. She had stylized long hair whose strands fell over her shoulders and she was blindfolded. How could I not have seen this before? I let the cloth fall out of my hands when I came up trembling with tension.

Sitting on my heels, I got an even better vision of this very beautiful image. Behind the woman stood a pole that continued upwards and held up the lampshade. There was the cable that ran under the woman to the socket. I saw that there was a small switch and switched on the lamp.

A soft light spread in the immediate vicinity of the cabinet. I blinked for a moment while my hand searched for the woman. I found her knees. The bronze felt cool on my fingertips. My fingers slid upwards and gently touched the woman's breasts. Her nipples were erect. For a moment my imagination ran away with me. Was it because I touched them?

Her name was Maria, and at least twice a week she was in the local public pool. The shared dressing room and the ladies' showers were our "meeting places". I liked watching her. First she came with a girlfriend. When the two had taken a few laps, they sat and chatted at the edge of the pool, their feet dangling in the water. I kept perfecting my breaststroke in the water while keeping an eye on the ladies. And I made sure that I stayed near the edge of the pool. When the end of free swimming was approaching I also sat on the side waiting near the changing rooms. And I watched. I watched her sit there, hands on the edge of the pool, head forward, her wet black hair falling down around her head, rocking with the rhythm of her dangling legs. When she got tired, she moved her hands back to throw her hair back with her arms outstretched, oh god how she did that temptingly, to look at her girlfriend while they were chatting and laughing. Her too tight, simple, but rather high-cut, black bathing suit accentuated her breasts and the curves of her hips. She was not aware of me, at least not in those first weeks.

When I saw them getting ready to get up, I got up and sped into the dressing room as quickly as possible. I lingered in taking off my bathing suit until I saw them walk in. Before I started dressing, I brushed my hair. I usually sat down on the bench and looked at her while brushing. I watched without embarrassment, though I was careful not to let her friend see me look at the way she undressed, dried off, put on her bra and her panties, and started brushing her hair.

After about two months, it might have been shorter, I sat by the side of the bath and observed her, she was bent, looking at her dangling legs. Occasionally her gaze turned to look at her friend, who had pulled her feet to the side and sat with her arms around her knees beside her. The friend looked in my direction and leaned forward to say something to her. She raised her head and gave me a surprised look. A smile came on her lips and she raised her hand, I waved back with an uncertain smile. When she got up to go to the dressing room, I sat still. I walked into the dressing room quite a bit later as she had just put on her coat.

Looking back, she said kindly: "Goodbye, I'll see you next week."

I looked at her and muttered, "Uh, yes, bye, see you next week."

Her friend looked at me with a destructive look and said nothing but turned abruptly, walked to the door and said: "Come on, hurry up, I want to leave."

A week later she was not there. I went swimming four times that week but she didn't show up. With a pounding heart I sat on the edge of the pool every day. She did not come and would not come again, I was completely ruined. But she had said so firmly: "I'll see you next week." She MUST come. She couldn't leave me like that. The second week passed without her showing up. I thought hard about quitting swimming. But I didn't do it. At least swimming distracted me from homework and exams.

The third week, I was in my underwear and looked in my bag for my bathing suit when I heard a timid shuffle behind me. I turned around and there she was. "Hello," she said in a low voice. She didn't look at me. I looked past her but no trace of a friend.

All emotions swept into my head. I was angry, I wanted to tell her what I thought of her that I had not heard from her, I wanted to embrace her and never let go, I ... I ... I wanted to kiss her, bite, scratch, push her under water, never again letting go. Instead, I said coolly, "Hello," and turned around to look for my bathing suit.

She said nothing more and put her bag next to mine. She took off her coat, hung it on a hook, and began to undress.

I had put on my bathing suit and walked towards the door to the pool. The atmosphere was electric. I turned around and said, "Hurry up, what are you waiting for?" As she stood there, naked, one leg in her bathing suit, looking up at me with a bewildered face.

"Wait for me, I'm coming."

I went through the swinging door. Behind the door I immediately turned around. She stumbled against me through the door and I could barely catch her.

"Oooohhh sorry" she screamed as she swung out of my arms. She had a head like a buoy.

"Stop! I don't accept this kind of apology." The moment she lay in my arms had made a shiver go through my body. I wanted this. I looked at her. Her eyes became watery.

"Don't do it, please don't do it."

She lowered her head. Her black hair hid the tears that ran down her cheeks. For a moment I was nailed to the ground, where did this come from? Why did she cry, we didn't even know each other? Why did it matter to me so much that she had come to me right now? I shook my head as if to put all those questions back and my hand reached for her. I took her chin and turned her face towards me. I held her tightly so she couldn't look away. "What's your name?" Apparently, she didn't expect this question, she expected to get another scolding. With tearful eyes she looked at me for a moment and then closed them.

"Maria" she whispered "Maria Guadelupe Hernández". It sounded like a sigh. I released her head.

"Come, Maria, let's go for a swim." I turned around, walked to the edge of the pool and dived into the water.

I only turned around in the water again to see if she followed me. She had walked to the edge and now carefully slid off the edge into the water. I swam over to her before she could swim from the side and pinned her with my whole body against the edge of the pool. I looked around for a moment, it was not yet busy in the water. Then I focused on her. When my head came towards her, she looked at me.

"What are you going ..." she began. My kiss throttled her before she could speak. I bit hard on her lower lip and she wanted to scream, she struggled a bit and her hands let go of the edge.

I brought my head to hers and whispered: "Maria Guadelupe Hernández, you are mine now. You will never do this again." She looked at me panting. I had to do something and shoved my leg roughly between hers. She closed her eyes. "Do ... You ... Understand ... Me ... Clearly?" I emphasized each word by pushing my leg further up. She nodded. Her mouth opened slightly and she shivered. I released her and swam away. After a few strokes I noticed that she was swimming right behind me, I slowed down so that she could come and swim beside me. We looked at each other, but she closed her eyes immediately. When she opened them again, her lips silently formed the words "Thank you."

We had arrived on the other side of the bath. Because I had seen that the lifeguard, a fat, usually cheerful, older woman, had already looked in our direction a few times, I knew I had to be careful. She had probably seen more than I wanted. I quickly dived under Maria and pulled her down at her calf. When we came up again we burst out laughing. The lifeguard showed her smile and turned her attention to a couple of boys around the age of twelve who were teasing a few girls of the same age. We swam a few more laps without saying a word. I did not want to sit on the side and when I got out of the water I immediately got up and walked to the dressing room without looking back.

I knew Maria would follow me. Instead of the joint dressing room I walked on and opened a door of a changing cabin. I looked around and waited for Maria to arrive, nodded that she had to go inside, and closed the door by standing against it. I grabbed her head with two hands and kissed her hard. I pushed my tongue into her mouth, she only held her teeth together for a moment and then answered my kiss. My left hand slid down her shoulder, down the line of her bathing suit. I grabbed her breast and, while kneading it, felt the nipple hardening through the thin material.

That's how I sat in front of the cabinet and squeezed the stiff nipple of a bronze statue. My eyes were closed, yet it was not dark, the soft light of the lamp warmed my face and lit my eyelids, forming an orange spot. With a shock I realized that I had my other hand between my legs. My skirt had slid over my buttocks and my fingers were squeezing through the thin, wet fabric of my pants, my lips. I rolled over my clit with the palm of my hand. Just... Not yet!! Just a moment ... I moved my hand and squeezed my clit. Shivered and with a shock I came and fell back. I was just able to keep myself afloat by releasing the statue and bringing my arm back. Djeezz, Maria Guadelupe, my first slave, even though I had no idea at the time. That had now become clear to me after reading so many books. I lowered my buttocks. The lamp was still shaking on the cabinet and lit the library in a spooky way. Luckily it didn't fall down. Maria Guadelupe Hernández ... More and more memories came back.

--

05 In the lingerie shop

While you read this part of the story, listen to:

The Return pt. 1, 2 & 3 from the album Long walk home by Peter Gabriel

As it became more crowded in the changing rooms and cabins, I pulled my head away, not only to breathe but also to bite her ear and whisper: "Know that you are mine now Maria, no one else's. I expect you to stick to your agreements with me. Otherwise I will punish you mercilessly." I released her nipple, to immediately grab it again and turn it around. She uttered a cry that I immediately smothered by sticking my mouth on hers. "Sshhhh" I released her mouth. "Don't scream, I don't like that." I grabbed her in her crotch and felt with my middle finger that she was wet. I pushed my finger through the fabric between her labia and rubbed it up and down. She gasped. With my other hand I grabbed her hair from behind so she had to keep her face up. Her eyes were closed, she shivered.

"Open your eyes, Maria. I want you to see this!" I hissed. I pulled my hand away from her legs, showing her my glistening middle finger. I stuck out my tongue and started licking it. She tasted sweet, but also like chlorine. "Next time I want to taste you and not a swimming pool." She laughed until I jerked her hair back. I viciously bit her: "That was no joke, Maria Guadelupe!" Tears filled her eyes and she looked at me with fear. I kissed her hard on her mouth. "Now we are going to get dressed," I said laughing and opened the door of the dressing room.

The weeks after were fantastic. Every week we met two nights. On the edge of the pool, she told about herself. She was a little older than I was and was not in college. She lived in the city in a small apartment with her older brother and her parents. She worked in a lingerie store. She had seen me there for the first time two years before, when I was in my first year of school.

I was looking for a new set of underwear. She had helped me. I was in the fitting room and got a red lace bra and a matching thong from her. I looked in the mirror and asked her to advise me. She put her head around the corner and held her hand at the curtain to keep it closed. "Don't be a baby and just come in, I'm not going to rape you. At least not now!" She turned red and hesitated, but I pulled her in by her hand.

"Look, what do you think? Do I need a smaller cup size? " I had put her hands on my breasts. While I turned to the mirror again, she held her hands on the bra just a little too long and I took them off my breasts and then placed them on the front of the thong. "And isn't this just too small?" I led her left hand to the middle of the string where my pubic hair (I was not yet bald) was above the edge of the string.

Again she had held her hand there just a little too long, and as she told me on the edge of the pool, she should have restrained herself from going through my lush forest with her fingers. She had apologized with a red face and had started looking for another set.

This incident had made her decide to look for me. It took almost a year for her to find me. One evening she had seen me walk to the swimming pool. After that she had been in the neighbourhood every night to see if I was coming. She saw me twice that week. The following weeks she made sure that she was positioned so that I had to go past her. Now I sometimes think that I must have been blind. I had never consciously seen her. She decided that the swimming pool might be a better place to show herself and convinced a colleague that it was good for her to go swimming. And she had noticed me there.

She was petite. Her raven black hair fell over her shoulders and over her breasts that protruded above the edge of the bathing suit like hills with a deep valley in between. I liked watching her and she let me look. She moved with a natural grace, but timidly, as if she was ashamed to show herself. In this I recognized something that pleased me extremely. A submission that excited me. She had been patient all this time and did not want to rush it now. She never looked directly at me, but she always knew where I was and whether I was looking. And when I looked, she made sure she showed her best side, sticking out her ass and leaning her breasts forward.

In the dressing room, she combed her hair for too long, while only wearing her towel, to allow me to look at her. Occasionally she even dared to sit so that the towel crawled and I got a good view of the inside of her thighs. She confessed to me that she did this only when she could brush her hair bent over so that no one could see how she blushed.

Only when her colleague openly pointed out to her that day at the edge of the swimming pool that I was watching did she say she saw me. She had been very tense but had done her best to respond as naturally as possible. It had escaped me, but not her colleague, Carmen, and on the way home they had a fight. Carmen had the idea that Maria was in love with her and therefore asked her to go swimming. She had blamed Maria for keeping her on a leash. Maria, who had not realized that Carmen wanted more from her, had said that the tension she felt in my presence had become unbearable and that she was now ready for the next step. Because of Maria's reaction, Carmen had decided to stop swimming, which had resulted in Maria starting to doubt her next step and only daring to face me after two weeks.

In the swimming pool itself, we behaved like two girlfriends who socialize with each other about all sorts of things. Our hot conversations often made us slip into the water with red cheeks. We had exchanged the women's public dressing room for one of the private changing rooms where I could go about with her fairly undisturbed.

I was exploring and she was receptive to everything I did with her. I bit her lip and she licked the blood off. Sometimes I stripped her bathing suit halfway and tied her hands on her back with the shoulder straps. Then I squeezed her nipples and she moaned and then I had to hold my hand again in front of her mouth on which she put her tongue between my fingers. When she had her hands on her back and it was busy in the dressing room, I took one of the metal clothes hooks from the dressing room and tapped her breasts or thighs. Not loudly, but loudly enough to provoke her, she was not heard by the crowd. Then I put her or my own panties in her mouth which she willingly allowed. Sometimes I bit her breasts, belly or the inside of her thighs and she grabbed me by my hair and held her lips tightly together when I came up to grab her head and smother the cry coming from her by pressing my lips over hers. We had to do it gently so that we were not discovered. We couldn't go to her house; her parents, but especially her brother, wouldn't understand. We could not go to my student flat either because I had roommates who walked in and out every moment of the day. By the way, there was no lock on our door. Easy but usually very uncomfortable.