Missing the Signs

She would have been hard not to notice. She was wearing a form fitting leather one-piece that clung to her every curve from her neck to her ankle boots and they were pretty spectacular curves.

Her exaggerated make-up looked as though it had been professionally applied and she could have been anywhere from twenty-five to forty. Her face was given added severity by the fact that her hair was tightly drawn back to form a ponytail which reached halfway down her back.

She had a leash in her hand and kneeling at her feet were two guys who definitely fell into the Adonis category. Their tanned bodies were completely hairless and their skin oiled.

She walked around in front of me and her two acolytes rose to their feet. Neither stood as tall as she did but their bodies spoke of hours spent in the gym.

"I saw you up on the balcony. You were with that young girl. I've seen her before but you're new."

"Look, there's been a misunderstanding. I sorry if you had the room booked, but if you'll kindly lend me a hand I'll get out of your way."

She seemed to think about this as she walked around behind me again and then I felt her cool fingertips running slowly down my back.

"A little amateurish but she shows some promise. It was your girlfriend that did this I presume?"

My patience was wearing thin.

"Please, if you'll just help me out here…what the fuck are you doing?"

Her fingers had slid round to unfasten the button at the waist of my trousers and now she was pulling then down from my buttocks.

"Just checking…You haven't done this before have you?"

Her confounded fingers were now tracing a path over my exposed cheeks.

"Look, if you're not going to help just piss off and leave me alone. They'll be down to release me any minute."

She was in front of me again an unreadable smile on her face. Without looking down she reached between the legs of her two attendants and within seconds both were powerfully erect.

She continued to stroke them idly as she spoke.

"I will say this just once. If you I hear another single word from you before I leave this room I will have your mouth filled and, as it would be a shame to leave anyone out, we will have to find some way of allowing my other pet to take his pleasure."

The implication of her words was not lost on me and I felt myself blanch. A sexual adventurer I may be but that did not extend to anything in the homosexual arena. I have nothing against gay men, live and let live, but it was not for me.

In my past I had been invited to take part in threesomes but unless it involved me and two females the thought made me queasy. Perversely, of course, being in bed with two women whilst they went at one another was simply the biggest turn on imaginable.

She moved her face closer to mine enveloping me in her chokingly exotic perfume.

"Unfortunately for you I cannot resist fresh meat. I am going to mark you; just a few strokes…but you'll never forget."

The expletive was almost out of my mouth before the mute to the left took half a step forward with his erection heavy in his hand. This was insane but what could I do? I cursed Zoe but at the same time I prayed that she would hurry back.

The woman was moving behind me but I could not bring myself to look. My blood ran cold as I heard a whooping sound cutting through the air and I pictured the short whip that Zoe had toyed with before selecting the flail.

For a few seconds there was silence; the only sound was the low hum of the air conditioning overlaid with the quiet susurration of the crowd another world away.

My ears strained to hear the footsteps that would herald my salvation but all I heard was the slight creak of leather as she drew back her arm.

I had a split second to register the hiss of the lash and then it exploded across my flesh.

The breath left my body in a rush, a silent scream, as I endured a pain unlike anything I had ever known.

I was still in shock when the second stroke fell across the first sending fresh waves of agony through my body.

I wanted to kill her and thought that I very well might once I was released.

When the third stroke fell I thought it was a mishit. It was as sharp and distinct as the first two, equally painful, but it felt as if I have been struck with the very tip of the whip.

I was sweating freely but now she made me wait. She had said "a few"; was it over?

The answer came suddenly, a fresh strike on virgin flesh to the right hand side. This time I did grunt in pain and felt sure that she must have drawn blood.

The final three strokes came in quick succession, one beneath the other, as she demonstrated her skill and then, as quickly as it had begun it was over. She carefully pulled up my shorts and trousers and then refastened them.

Without a word I heard her heading for the door and then, with a click of her fingers, the two men silently followed.

My greatest shame over the next few minutes was not the pain itself, which seemed to increase before it abated, but the tears that ran freely from my eyes. I tried to dry them on the sleeve of my shirt as best I could.

Shortly afterwards Zoe bounded breathlessly into the room.

"I am so sorry. I got caught by the manger. You have to sign a disclaimer to use the equipment down here and when I told him what had happened he insisted I sign one to cover himself. You need to sign too when we get back upstairs."

I had wanted to tell her that she was a stupid bitch and let her know what had happened but her guileless smile was so disarming and, after all, she could not have foreseen events.

She climbed on the chair and worked on the fastening.

"Oh poor you, you've been sweating."

She adjusted the collar of my shirt and then went back to what she was doing.

"It's so bloody simple when you know how. Look, you don't turn it, you just push down."

Within seconds I was free and I hoped she did not see me wince with pain as I straightened up.

When we returned to the balcony I was desperately thirsty and asked Zoe if she wanted a drink. She whispered her reply.

"What I really want is you. I am so turned on."

Now I was in a real quandary. I did not want her to see what had been done to me not least because I did not want her feeling guilty. As I sipped a beer I wondered how I could get round it.

The idea of a 'wham bam, thank you mam' half clothed fuck did occur but, for once in my life, I wanted the first time to be really special. She did not make things any easier as she insistently rubbed my crotch beneath the table.

The pain in my backside was subsiding, cooling to an almost tolerable warmth, so that everything below the waist felt like it was in heat.

"Zoe, I'm very tired and I've got an early start in the morning. I want to make love to you more than anything in the world right now but I really want it to be something to remember."

For a moment I thought she was going to be angry but then she smiled and touched my cheek.

"I understand and I think that's really sweet of you. Perhaps we can make a weekend of it."

Delighted to be let off of the hook, I kissed her across the table. We finished our drinks and headed towards the exit where, to my embarrassment, I had to sign the 'activities' disclaimer. Whilst I did so Zoe used the ladies room.

She was gone a long time and a number of other women came and went whilst I waited.

Finally, she half emerged and beckoned me over. As I approached, wondering what the problem might be, she grabbed hold of my arm and dragged me in.

"Zoe!"

"Ssshhh! Quick!"

Still worried that there was something wrong I reluctantly let her pull me into an empty cubicle. She locked the door and then stifled a laugh.

"I thought it was never going to empty out,"

"Zoe, what's going on?"

"I hear what you say about making love but if I don't come right now I am going to die."

Suddenly this seemed like the worst of all possible worlds, a quick, furtive fuck, in a toilet cubicle, but I had misread the situation.

She put her hands on my shoulders and urged me down.

"We can save the main course for the weekend but you can let me have a little hors d'oeuvre."

This was not what I wanted but her insistence leant her a surprising strength.

She lifted her feet from the ground and I instinctively crouched to support her. Suddenly I was on my knees on the cold, tiled; floor whilst she finished up sitting on the closed lid of the toilet.

With a deep groan she planted her feet flat against the door trapping me between her legs.

The shock on my face on seeing that she was not wearing panties must have been apparent because she gave a sly chuckle.

"I had to flush them…they were ruined."

In evidence of this her sex and inner thighs were slick with moisture giving rise to a powerful scent which, somehow, seemed out of keeping for one so young.

She was immaculately depilated and her mound was a closed clamshell giving no hint of her inner lips despite her arousal. The thought that came to my mind, totally unbidden, was how deliciously tight she would be and, in spite of my trepidation, I felt the renewed stirrings of an erection.

I cast my eyes up to hers to find they were dilated by pure lust.

"Lick me…"

It all felt so wrong; not just the setting but also the fact that I had been lured by the attraction of the very fantasy I had created of our first time together. I wanted to entreat her but I sensed that she was not going to accept another disappointment.

With reluctance I bowed my head and presented my tongue.

Even now, I could not bring myself to make a direct assault and I flirted at her inner thigh.

"Yes! Lick it all up."

It had not been my intention but she seemed excited by the idea of me taking the taste from skin and I lingered a moment before crossing the crease of her thigh and focussing on her mound.

The first sweep of my tongue confirmed her youthful tautness but the second found only a warm, wet, embrace. Like an Aladdin's cave her sex opened up and I slipped inside with shocking ease.

Her inner labia, previously hidden, now held my tongue in a silken caress encouraging me to go deeper still.

She was seeping, filling my mouth with her viscous essence, and I had to swallow quickly to avoid choking.

I had the ungracious thought that she would not last long but, whilst she still gave the impression of being caught up in the spontaneous throes of passion, I could not escape the feeling that she somehow remained fully in control.

Her grip on my tongue was unremitting, keeping me close pressed, with only the occasional groan from which to take encouragement. I decided that I would try and hurry things along and shifted my stiffening knees slightly as a prelude to licking her clitoris but, as I did so, I heard a door opening.

I froze, but was aware that Zoe was trying to suppress a giggle. A clacking of heels drew nearer and then, to my horror, the adjacent cubicle was occupied. My eyes flitted to Zoe's, wondering how we were going to extricate ourselves, but she simply gave me a playful cuff around the head and whispered.

"Do it!"

I could not believe it but it was clear that neither of us could move for the time being. With my tongue still locked tightly in Zoe's sex I was acutely aware of every sound coming through the thin dividing wall.

I heard the rustle of clothing and found myself trying to imagine what the woman looked like. How would she react, I wondered, if she but knew the scene that was playing out less than an arms length away.

Just to add to my discomfort she seemed unhurried but this only served to excite Zoe even more. She used both hands to pull me onto her and the resultant noises must have raised suspicions.

Above all else she must have been intrigued by the curious, somehow familiar, odour. Zoe was in heat and her scent was contained and concentrated by the closed walls of the cubicle but surely it must have carried on the still air.

At long last our neighbour tidied herself up and left and I assumed that this would bring an end to the proceedings. We had nearly been caught in flagrante and now was the time to make our exit but, in this, I had underestimated Zoe.

She released her grip on my head but she did not move her legs leaving me trapped in a manner that made her requirements perfectly clear. I was not sure if I should have been annoyed or flattered but I began to use my tongue more actively.

For the next couple of minutes she murmured encouragements but then she grew frustrated.

"Wait. This isn't doing it for me."

Now I felt hurt. It was not something I enjoyed doing but no one had ever criticised my technique before. I eased away from her and, unfathomably, found myself thinking of excuses and framing an apology.

I thought that she was going to get up but, instead, she slid forward a little and replanted her feet higher up the door.

"Go down…"

A sudden surge of adrenaline made me feel light headed. She was lying almost flat with her head supported against the wall and I was staring at the full splendour of her exposed backside.

My first thought was that it was beautifully shaped, unblemished and with an enviable firmness. I am the first to check a girl out, particularly if she wearing tight jeans, but this self confident display left me feeling, in some way, inadequate.

There was no doubting what she expected of me and I was appalled. This was a complete no no and was one of barriers that had come up between Juliette and me.

In the early days of our relationship she had shocked me by telling me that it was something she particularly enjoyed but I always fought shy. One night, after a heavy session at the local wine bar, I had awoken in the dark to find her settled over my face and I had made an unsatisfactory, slobbering, attempt after which it was not mentioned again.

This time it was different; there was no comforting darkness in which to hide. The cubicle was white walled and brightly lit.

Zoe had a beautiful creamy complexion but my eyes were drawn to that one point where it shaded to an intimidating darker hue. A trail of moisture from her sex revealed one or two tiny blonde hairs before it succumbed to gravity and was drawn into the well making it glisten wickedly.

For a few seconds I remained frozen in place, my mind a frenzy of conflicting thoughts. Had it been anyone else I would have refused but there was something about her that simply brooked no denial.

As I fought with myself my upper body began to sway but, slowly, inevitably, the forward motion won out.

I applied my tongue to the long open furrow and licked along its length. The taste was a mix of sweat and arousal but it was quickly diluted by my own saliva.

After that, it was easier. I adopted a slow, lazy, rhythm moving from bottom to top but, on each pass, I was ever more aware of that brooding portal luring me in. Its ribbed resilience was a stark contrast to the smoothness of her skin and, by degrees, it was dilating.

"Now babe…do it now!"

Her voice was a breathless, exhorting, whisper but even now I was struggling to confront the final taboo.

I used the tip of my tongue to make a tentative exploration but I was all too aware of the latent strength that lay beyond.

I applied a little more pressure but it was an unequal struggle until she grew impatient. She began to maul her sex, her fingers working vigorously, and there was a sudden easing.

I was almost caught off balance as my tongue was let through. It slid deep inside to encounter a musty taste that was still redolent of her arousal.

I could feel the movement of her fingers but I was caught in a mantrap, her hold on my tongue so sure that I could not withdraw.

After a few seconds her sex was weeping and it flowed down to fill my nostrils but this was still not enough.

"Do something! I want to feel your tongue moving."

It was difficult to comply but, not without a little pain, I began to flex my tongue inside her.

"Yes! That's it!"

Her fingers became a blur and she began to emit a low animal growl which gradually increased in volume. Anyone entering now would be left in doubt what was going on beyond the locked door but Zoe was beyond caring.

As her climax rose to a crescendo she bore down on my tongue with a torturous pressure causing me to gasp involuntarily. Fortunately, her orgasm was as brief as it was violent and, at its finish, I was swiftly ejected.

As Zoe recomposed herself I checked my mouth for damage before, with a renewed fit of giggles, she led me back outside.

Chapter 3

I was simply not functioning. I was making more errors at work and I could not get her out of my head. Worse still, I seemed to be permanently erect.

The usual suspects at the office flirted with me as normal but even women I would have otherwise found unattractive seemed to have an effect on me. The strange thing was that if any one of them were to have offered it up on a plate I would not have partaken.

The prospect of having sex with Zoe at the weekend kept me on a permanent high. I had never felt this way about a woman before. I tried to put it down to the freshness of the relationship or the lure of youth but there was more to it. This girl could wrap me round her finger.

My friends noticed the change in me, one or two even guessed the nature of the change, but I refused to tell them anything about Zoe. Deep down there was still a fear of ridicule. I was a master of the universe and she a penniless student.

On Friday I was on tenterhooks checking my phone every few minutes for a text message but it was just the usual chaff. By Friday evening I had begun telephoning but I kept getting through to her evermore familiar voice message.

She explained that she was on the books of a couple of agencies who were likely to offer her temporary work at very short notice including night shifts. She said it paid well but she often turned her phone off if she was tired.

So it was that I ended up in the bar with the boys but I did not get the usual buzz from it. I drank a lot, seemingly without effect, and joined in with the usual chauvinist banter but my mind was elsewhere.

I consoled myself with the thought that she would get in touch on Saturday but, by the evening, I had still not heard. After that it was easy to convince myself that she had meant Sunday all along but, as the hours dragged by, all was silence.

That night I did not sleep as I imagined her enjoying herself with her young friends perhaps even one friend in particular. By the following morning I was a wreck and I did something I had not done for years; I phoned in sick.

By ten thirty I was showered, shaved, and feeling slightly better. The sun was shining as I drove towards Zoe's apartment and I prepared what I would say to her. I rang the doorbell and my pulse raced when I heard footsteps on the stairs.

My heart fell when the door was opened by Katie. She was sheathed in a silky dressing gown and looked as if she had just got out of bed. Her eyes widened and then glinted wickedly when she saw who it was.

"Were you looking for Zoe?..."

She said it a sultry manner which suggested that I might, in fact, have hoped to find that Zoe was not at home. I quickly put her straight.

"I thought that you would be in school"

"Ordinarily, I would but it's the half term holiday. If you are looking for Zoe, she's not here; I haven't seen her all weekend. I thought she might be with you as a matter of fact…lucky cow."

"Do you know where she might be?"

"Could be anywhere. She's ostracized by the family but she's still very close to her sister…and there's an aunt; they're close too, but I think they see each other without the family knowing."