Love, Honour and Obey

If I had not known better I would have pegged her as a lesbian but she had been in a long term relationship with Rory ever since I knew her. That is what made this present situation all the more incredible. Gwen, too, had recently got engaged to a Danish colleague who worked at the same firm of investment brokers.

In the next few seconds I began to think that I had a genie granting me wishes. Irene was standing directly in front of me with her back turned and, without another word she reached round and unfastened her skirt. She stood for a second or two and, I had to admit, she had a great pair of legs with a tight peach of a bum made all the more desirable because she was wearing black stockings and suspenders.

"Please,...I don't want to do it."

"What you do or do not want to do has no bearing."

So saying, Irene slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slipped them down her legs.

"I hate doing it."

"I know you do...and that just makes it all the sweeter."

She moved around Gwen and took a seat on the armchair and now it was her turn to unwittingly put herself on display albeit not quite so blatantly. With her legs parted I could see that she was completely shaved and this sent more blood coursing south to my already impressive erection.

"Get yourself a cushion for your knees...this might take some time."

Gwen docilely retrieved a cushion and placed it carefully on the floor at Irene's feet and I wondered what the hell was going on. Gwen is a sassy, intelligent woman holding down a high powered job and yet here she was acting like a harem slave.

"Let me come..."

"Make a good job of it and we will see..."

As Gwen dropped to her knees my hand involuntarily dropped to my crotch and I was nearly overcome by the urge to unfasten my trousers.

"...come on, I'm dripping...I want you to lap me up."

Gwen had her back to me but I could tell by her body language that she was fighting to overcome some inner resistance. She almost willed herself forward as she surrendered and bowed her head. As soon as she was engaged Irene closed her eyes, growled, and gave a beatific smile.

"...yes...that's where you belong..."

For the next few minutes I watched as Gwen carried out her appointed task. I could see nothing but the back of her head bobbing gently and moving slightly every now and again as she changed her point of attack but Irene's running commentary left no doubts in my mind.

"...let me feel your tongue...yes, that's nice...suck it...."

I could not imagine the set of circumstances that had brought them to this moment but the sweat of excitement was making my clothes damp and the fierceness of my erection was painful.

As Irene's climax drew near she hooked one leg over the arm of the chair stretching herself even wider and I sensed that Gwen wanted to pull away when that moment arrived but she was not to be spared. Irene joined her hands behind Gwen's head and pulled her in tight.

"You sweet little bitch!...Drink it!"

At that moment she started to come, a long, powerful, shuddering orgasm that had her grunting with effort. Gwen was clearly in distress but that was of no consequence. She was forced to endure until the final shivers slowly diminished.

Irene released her and slumped back in a state of sated exhaustion.

"Finger yourself again."

"Please, I..."

"Don't question me, just do it, and just remember what will happen if you come without my permission."

I watched in bemused fascination as Gwen did as she was told. Her shoulders were slumped in tired resignation but after a moment or two I could see the tension growing in her neck muscles.

"Play with your nipples, I want to see them nice and pert."

The exchanges were unreal, almost theatrical, but there was no doubt that Gwen was genuinely reaching a peak of excitement. Through the back of her legs I could just see her hand as she began to stimulate herself more vigourously.

"Stop!"

"No...not now...just a little more...please."

"Stop!"

To reinforce the command Irene leaned forward and slapped Gwen's hand away from her breasts. It was not a heavy slap but it had the desired effect. Gwen dropped both hands to her side and, when she spoke again, her tone was almost petulant.

"Why? Why do you make me do this?"

"It keeps you on edge; and, besides, all the time that there is a chance that I might allow you to come, it keeps you nicely attentive to my needs...speaking of which..."

She leant forward and used the fingers of both hands to open herself obscenely wide.

"Get your tongue in, as deep as you can..."

Again I sensed Gwen's reluctance and it was hardly surprising. She was confronted with raw, wet, cavern which almost threatened to swallow her up. She braced herself and then, like a beginner hesitating on the high board, she finally took the plunge.

"Deeper...you can do better than that."

From where I stood it appeared that Gwen was trying her best. Her mouth was pressed tightly to the maw and she moaned with effort as she strained her tongue.

Out of her sight Irene's face bore a cruel smile and I knew then that this particular act of the play had more to do with humiliation than stimulation. She allowed Gwen to struggle valiantly for a moment or two but after that she could hold off no longer.

"Suck my clit."

She continued to hold herself open and Gwen obediently, and, I guessed, with relief switched her attention.

She was either very good or Irene was very aroused either way it was not very long before she started to scale the peaks once again. As before she kept control by taking a grip of Gwen's hair and guiding her tongue just where she wanted it as she greeted this fresh climax with a string of expletives.

I decided that the time had come for me to make a move. I had been standing still for so long that my body ached and my erection was clamouring for urgent attention. I took a last look and my heart went out to Gwen. I could see her trying to work some life into her tired tongue and recent experience had taught me exactly how she felt. Behind her Irene got up from the chair and stretched and yawned lazily affording me a last look at her desirable legs.

I eased away from door but, as I did so, I heard a slow handclap.

"That was quite a performance."

For a second my heart literally stopped and there was a sharp pain before it picked up again and started to beat furiously. The voice was unmistakable, it was Suzanne.

I pressed my eye back against the gap with such force that it hurt but I had to know what was going on. Gwen was still on her knees with Suzanne standing over her. My immediate thought was that she had come into the room and caught them in the act but then I remembered, with a jolt, that the room only had one door and I was peering through it. That could only mean that she had been in the room the whole time and I could barely digest the implications.

I had to keep shifting my position in order to see all three of them. Irene had retrieved her skirt and panties and was in the process of getting dressed and Suzanne was gently stroking Gwen's hair.

"Please Suze, not tonight ...I've had enough."

Gwen's voice was only just loud enough to hear but there was something in its tone. Only later, thinking back on it, did I realize that she was afraid.

"Well that's hardly fair now is it? I've sat here patiently watching you two having all the fun; are you going to deny me mine?"

"Please. Tomorrow...I'll do it tomorrow."

"Sorry Gwen, but you do put on such a good show; the fact is you've really got me hot and bothered."

My brain could not take it in. I just could not string coherent thoughts together. When I replayed the scene, as I would for many years to come, I saw myself storming into the room demanding explanations but in reality I stood there mutely feeling seedier than I had ever done in all my life.

"Come on Gwen...you know how I like it."

Irene laughed at this but for me it was the final damning affirmation that this was not the first time.

Gwen turned around so that she was facing me and I could see that her face was flushed and wet. I thought, for a moment, that she might rebel but the very fact that she had stayed on her knees betokened her submission. She looked up at Suzanne with pleading eyes but it was to no avail.

"Lie back."

She allowed herself to fall back, almost in slow motion, until her head was resting on the seat of the armchair and she was staring up at the ceiling. Suzanne looked down at her for a few seconds and then she hitched her skirt. She was still wearing a smart, two-piece, business suit and, like a furtive schoolboy, I tried to spot if she was wearing underwear.

With feline grace she took up a kneeling position on the seat facing the back of the chair. She was now straddling Gwen's face and she smiled down at her one last time before she allowed her skirt to fall. She remained poised for a few seconds and then, with an audible sigh, she slowly descended and let her weight settle.

I should have been feeling disgust, betrayal, instead I felt an inner numbness and through it all my erection remained bone hard.

Suzanne wiggled her hips slightly as she squirmed into a comfortable position and then she remained perfectly still for a moment or two. I found myself holding my breath and when, at last, she rose slightly, I heard a muffled, almost panicked, gasp from beneath her skirt causing me to draw in a deep sympathetic draught of air.

She settled once more, pressing the back of Gwen's head deeper into the cushion, and then she began to rock gently, almost imperceptibly. It was a rhythmic movement that meant that her upper body stayed still and then she began to hum. It was a sound I knew well and it meant that she was starting the slow ride towards a long lazy orgasm.

In the event I stood stock still for nearly half an hour during which time Suzanne kept up the same easy tempo pausing only now and then to allow Gwen a full lungful of air. Her orgasm, when it hit, was almost muted. She joined her hands and lifted the hair from the nape of her neck but the real evidence was Gwen's heaving chest as she fought the smothering embrace of Suzanne's sex.

Irene, now fully dressed, moved back into view.

"How was it?"

"Delicious..."

"Do you think we should give her a break?"

"Not just yet. Put some music on. I think I'll have another one whilst I settled here..."

Which was more than I could manage. At some point in the proceedings I had unfastened my trousers and I was now wondering what to do with my sodden handkerchief.

Reluctantly, I moved away. I was left with a final image of Gwen struggling to get away but with her legs folded beneath her and Suzanne's not inconsiderable weight on her face she had no choice but to endure.

Chapter 5

Over the following two days I thought I would go insane. I wanted to confront Suzanne with what I knew and to get some sort of explanation. She was denying me coitus whilst expecting oral favours and it seemed that even this was not enough for her. In the end it came down to a simple question. If I did confront her, and I was not happy with what she had to say, would I be prepared to split up with her?

In my heart of hearts I knew the answer was no. My love for her was now so deeply entwined with my own fabric that to part from her would change me forever. She had opened up my life in a way that I could never have imagined and there could be no going back; but it was this belief, in the inner strength of our relationship, that finally gave me the impetus to confront her. We had both been going through a stressful period but, now that she had achieved her immediate goal, things could be different. I simply needed to put the relationship back on an equal footing.

Screwing my courage to the sticking place I put through a call to her at the office and as good as demanded that she cleared any appointments that she might have so that we could have dinner together at my place. To my surprise she immediately agreed and sounded happy to do so. Could it be that she was looking to me to be assertive? Did she need some help to get her work back into some sort of perspective?

The meal was just like old times. We were more relaxed together than we had been for weeks and my heart was soaring. I even dared hope that we would end up making love as we had in the early days with that same free spirited passion. But lurking there, knotted in my stomach, was a desperate need to know what I had witnessed.

"Suze, will you be truthful with me?"

"That's an odd thing to say."

"Hear me out. If there was...someone else. Would you tell me?"

"Are you suggesting something?"

There was a sudden glint of anger in her eyes.

"No...of course not."

"Then why ask? Do you think I just pretend to work late at the office?"

Her cheeks were flushed and the situation was threatening to get out of control. I knew that I had to stop being circumspect.

"I came by the flat the other night. I used the spare key. I saw you ...with Gwen."

She stared into my eyes and then, after a pause, she burst out laughing.

"Suze, this is serious. I saw what you did with her. It was ..."

"....girly fun."

"I saw it. It was more than that."

"Look, it was just the three of us blowing off a little steam."

"It didn't look as though Gwen was enjoying it."

"It was just role play, What the hell do you take us for?"

I was determined not to be put on the back foot.

"How long has it been going on?"

"Look, I've known Irene and Gwen a long time. Before you were even a part of my life."

"That's not an answer."

"If you're asking if I'm a lesbian then the answer is no. You saw for yourself, there was no kissing."

That was true but I'm not sure what it proved or even if it made me feel any better. She continued.

"Look, you hadn't exactly been attentive to my needs in the past few days. It was just a way of relieving a little stress."

"Are you saying it's over?"

"I suppose I'm saying it shouldn't be necessary."

Somehow I was being skilfully outmanoeuvred.

"Suze, you can't blame me. Our love life has not exactly been a meeting of equals of late."

She took a moment to weigh this up and then she took my face in her hands.

"Chris, I love you. I want to marry you but I want the ceremony to have meaning in the truest sense. We could be like other couples that just move in together and simply coalesce. I want more than that. I want a proper wedding night."

This was not what I was expecting.

"Are you saying that we can't have sex again until we are married?"

"Would that be a hardship? I promise you that once we are married there will be no inhibitions."

In one sense it was everything I wanted to hear but in another it was a body blow. I needed something more positive.

"When would we get married?"

"Well I think I've finally got my mother pinned down and we are agreed on a simple ceremony so why not next month?"

With those few words I forgave her everything. We even agreed on two potential dates and Suzanne said that she would try and sort out the registry office. I cleared the table and brought a bottle of Cava from the fridge. It was not quite Champagne but it was enough to celebrate the euphoria I was feeling.

"So...did it turn you on?"

"What?"

She moved a little closer and smiled at me.

"Did it turn you on?...watching me...riding Gwen's face..."

The truth was that I wanted to put the episode out of my mind. I wanted to move forward but Suzanne would not let it drop.

"...Did you come?"

I could not tell her a lie.

"...Yes"

"Did it make you jealous?"

"I suppose so..."

"Oh, you poor boy. Nobody does it quite like you. Nobody makes me feel quite so special."

As she said it she slowly opened her legs and, as she knew I would, I dropped to my knees.

The next few weeks became even more frantic. The first date that we had set drifted by and we could not get booked for the second. I found myself back in the familiar regime. Suzanne would drop by when she could and I would spend my time between her thighs. The perversity of it was that I tried harder than ever to please her. She promised that there would be no more fooling around with Irene and Gwen but she still continued to share the flat and I found it ever more difficult to rein in my jealousy.

I seemed to be confronted with two different versions of Suzanne, One was the outgoing open-hearted woman with whom I had fallen in love who seemed to be trying her damnedest to organize our wedding but, on other occasions, she was the ambitious business woman with no time to spare.

There was also a lot more work coming my way culminating in a three day trip to New York where one of the big perfumeries wanted to run a campaign in the magazine. I was given to understand that the material was to be more "edgy" and I was to be there to advise on house standards. I hoped the break would help to clear my mind but I could not have been more wrong.

I had now attended a number of shoots but this was to be the first time with an all female crew. As I discussed the story board with the director and photographer my mind was set in a strictly professional mode until the two models came back onto the set.

When they first arrived they were both without make-up and dressed casually in jeans and trainers. Now they had been transformed. Katya, the dark haired girl was dressed in black latex which appeared to have been sprayed on, It covered her from her ankles to her neck and served to emphasis her height which was already above average. Her make up was designed to make her face look severe and, to that end, the artist had been entirely successful.

With Emily, the blonde, the look was vulnerable but alluring. Her hair and make up had been styled to make her look young but the flimsy white bra and panties she was wearing were straight out of Agent Provocateur. When I was first introduced to her I guessed she was about twenty two maybe twenty three but now, having removed her engagement ring, she could easily pass for teens.

In the centre of the studio, under the lights, was an old fashioned bed with a high mattress and a wrought iron head board. The story board called for Emily to be handcuffed to the bed and there was much giggling as the director spread her arms above her head and fastened them in place.

As soon as she was secure I felt butterflies in my stomach. She was achingly beautiful and for a brief moment I almost forgot that we were not alone.

"Nipples, Katya."

The director's tone was very matter-of-fact and Katya knew exactly what was wanted. The latex was moulded so tightly to her skin that it looked as though she was wearing a breastplate but as she brought her hands up and began to pinch gently her nipples quickly perked up and I have to confess that they were very impressive specimens. Had I been a gentleman I would have looked away but I could not help but look and, as she caught my eye, she gave me a conspiratorial wink.

They were promoting a perfume called "Taste" and they wanted an image that suggested oral rape. To this end Katya duly took up a position between Emily's legs and over the next twenty minutes they experimented with various angles. The girls giggled throughout but the photographer was growing more and more perplexed. It was hard to strike a balance that allowed the best light for Katya's costume without bleaching out Emily's.

When, at last, they found a pose that everyone was happy with I was tempted to intervene. Katya's mouth was poised scant centimetres above the crotch of Emily's panties and I knew that such a photo would never get past the editorial board.

"I can't see her nipples."

This was from the photographer who, with her eyes fixed on the view finder, had just exhorted Katya to remain perfectly still.