Missing the Signs

My head covering was now soaked with the product of all four of them and I felt trapped in a stench of womanhood. It was only an illusion but it seemed as if the sodden material was shrinking about me never to be removed.

Her eagerness now took over as, at last, she redirected my attention to her clitoris. The taut bud stood proud of its fleshy collar, making it easy to latch on to, and I pursed my lips and drew it in.

A few flicks of my tongue were sufficient to trigger events and her body jolted spasmodically as waves of bliss stressed and relaxed her by turns.

Feeling pleased with myself I tried to get up but Zoe held me back.

"There's one last thing you have to do."

I remained there on my aching knees wondering what more could possibly be expected of me. The answer came when she had recovered from her orgasm and lazily turned herself over.

Even through the soiled mask I could appreciate the rounded perfection of her backside but then the menacing shadows of her dark nail polish made her demands clear.

With a low moan she held herself open in readiness but I seemed to lose the power of movement. It took a second or two to recognize it as fear, but fear of what I could not say.

I half expected Zoe to tell me what to do but I was left to my own salvation. The downward spiral lay before me, leading to her core, and I surrendered to its gravity.

I licked along the exposed divide, tainted by the taste of stale perspiration, but a few seconds were enough to bring out the smooth sweetness of her skin.

My other self would have balked at this moment but here I was moistening the way to total subservience as she quietly moaned in expectation.

The sweeps of my tongue obeyed a decaying orbit until I reached the inevitable focal point.

I prepared myself for one final exertion but I gained entry with surprising ease as if everything had been leading to this moment.

Once inside skilful muscles drew me deeper still, putting a strain on the root of my tongue, and then I was held fast.

For a minute or two nothing happened. She seemed content just to have me kneeling at the shrine but then I felt a definite pulse and my tight curled tongue was subjected to a renewed pressure.

I flexed my tongue in response, to ease the crushing effect, but then it became a one sided battle as she demonstrated her supremacy.

The pulse became a throbbing rhythm with its own distinct cadence counterpointed by a slowly rising animal cry; then, with a final joyous shriek she started to come for a second time taken there by my tongue alone.

Afterwards, she seemed reluctant to let me go but her strength ebbed and I was allowed to slip from her dark embrace.

As I knelt there trying to catch my breath, and nursing a tongue that was going to take days to heal, Zoe began the challenging task of peeling the helmet off of my head.

I welcomed the relief but, in some way, I was reluctant to give up the comforting anonymity that it conferred.

I blinked in the sudden brightness and then thought my eyes were deceiving me. When I was sure that they were not I felt my stomach lurch and my heart tripped dangerously.

Sitting in front of me, her face a picture of satisfaction, was Juliette and whilst I tried to make sense of it she spoke to Zoe.

"You are something else. I didn't think you could make him do it…and with three days to spare."

"Always happy to help…after all what are sisters for."

Epilogue

Within six weeks I had quit my job and taken up a new post with The Chicago Board of Trade. It was not the best of career moves but I had been left with no option.

In the final seconds, before I blacked out, I appreciated the calculating nature of Juliette's revenge and I wondered how I had missed all the signposts.

I knew, of course, that Zoe had a sister but she had never been discussed except in the context of her friendship with Katie which had given rise to Zoe's current living arrangements.

The women at the party were there to expose lies that I had told in the past.

The larger woman was Monica, a secretary from the office. I happened to be around when one of my colleagues was writing her staff appraisal and he was struggling to write something meaningful under 'Achievements'. To much hilarity I had scribbled in the words 'getting fat'.

Word somehow got back to her and she threatened to make an official complaint. I told the stupid woman that, if it came to a choice between her and me, then I knew who was going to be out of a job.

The 'tanned' woman was Dina, another colleague. She was a stunning looking Mauritian who had joined us from The London School of Economics. She had all the men salivating but was regarded as untouchable.

It was my idea to put some money into a pot the winner being the first one to bed her. What the others did not know was that I was already mounting a charm offensive.

By the time I scooped the pot she thought that there was genuinely something between us but I quickly put her right.

Both these incidents were part of my legend but when, early on, Juliette asked about them I assured her that they were just stories. After I finished with her she had obviously gone to the trouble of finding out for herself.

The bitterest pill to swallow was Juliette's 'boyfriend'. This turned out to be my erstwhile associate Don. The fact was that she and he had absolutely nothing in common. She had simply strung him along to set up the moment when going back to my job was made impossible. He was dumped as soon as his purpose was served.

Finally, the one single clue that should have alerted me. Back at 'Freakshow', on that first night, the blonde dominatrix spoke of marking me. When I finally plucked up courage to check the damage in a mirror I assumed that it was the bitch's own initials that adorned my skin. I could discern a 'J' and an 'E' but did not make the connection with Juliette Ethrington.

I am getting used to life in Chicago and the fresh start gives me a chance to evaluate my new sexual persona. I tell myself that I need to get back to where I was, the alpha male of old, but this morning I received an e-mail from across town.

It was from someone claiming to be a friend of Zoe's, someone asking if I have a nice face…