Mysterious Marcia

WARNING: Contains anal action

She said that her name was Marcia. Whether it actually was or not, I really don't know. She said that a friend had told her about me. 'My friend says that you make little, umm, films,' she said.

'I do,' I said. I waited for her to say something else. But she didn't. For a moment, I wondered if the call had been dropped. But I thought that I could still hear background sounds coming down the line. 'Did your friend tell you what sort of films I make?' I said.

'Oh, yes. Gentleman's Relish. And not the kind that you buy in a jar.'

'No, not the kind that buy in a jar,' I said. 'So ... how can I help you?'

'I would like you to make a film of me.'

'I see,' I said. 'With someone? Or on your own?'

'I think just me,' she said. 'I think that I'd like to see if I ... well ... you know - whether I have what it takes.'

'OK. So tell me a little about Marcia,' I said.

'What would you like to know?'

'Well, how old are you.' It was hard to tell over the phone. Her voice sounded quite mature. (And she was very well spoken.) But you can never be sure. My specialty (if that is the right word) is women over 40. I've filmed quite a few women in their 60s. I've even filmed a couple of women in their 70s. But my clientele is definitely not into 18-year-olds - no matter how posh they sound.

'I'm 48,' she said. 'Soon to be 49. And then, after that, it'll be 50 I suppose. The big half century.'

'Nothing wrong with 50,' I said. 'People tell me that it's the new 30.'

She laughed. 'I hope not. Thirty was the year that I got both married and divorced.'

'Oh, well,' I said. 'And what do you do? Do you work? Or are you a lady of leisure?'

'I work part time as a receptionist,' she said. 'At an estate agents. I mainly meet and greet.'

'OK. That must be interesting.'

'It can be,' she said. 'Sometimes.'

'And this little film ... would you like to do this at your place? Or here in the studio?'

'I think the studio. For the first one anyway. After that ... We'll have to see how it goes.'

After that? Interesting, I thought. 'OK. Well ... we just need to find a time, don't we?'

'I don't work at all on Wednesdays,' she said. 'I don't know if that would work for you.'

'Let me consult the diary,' I said. Wednesday afternoon was clear, so we agreed that she would come to the studio at three o'clock. 'I take it that you know where we are?'

'My friend said that you are above the ironmongers. In Turley Street.'

'That's right. The red door just to the left of the ironmongers. By the way, are you going to tell me your friend's name?'

She hesitated. 'Umm ... do I need to?'

'No. Not if you don't want to.'

'She's just someone who I met. You know.'

'That's fine,' I said. Mysterious. But fine.

It rained on Wednesday afternoon, and Marcia arrived wearing a long rain coat. Bright red with navy blue piping on the cuffs and lapels. She looked very smart.

'Let's just find somewhere to hang your coat,' I said.

Underneath her coat she was wearing a plain black dress. Shortish and sleeveless. And I felt pretty sure that if I looked inside, there would a designer label. 'That's nice,' I said. 'A classic little black dress.' She was also wearing black stockings, and rather classy-looking black shoes. Salvatore Ferragamo, at a guess.

'I think that I managed to keep my shoes dry,' she said.

I had set up a little 'library' as a backdrop. Against the back wall I had placed a tall bookcase filled with books with rather lush-but-anonymous spines. In front of the bookcase, I had laid out a classic Persian rug. And on the rug I had placed a generously-proportioned Louis XV chair. The chair was a reproduction. But it was a good one. And there was a small table beside the chair, and an open book on the table.

I arranged the lighting so that the background was slightly moody, but anyone sitting in the chair would still be well lit. I had learned the hard way that my clientele likes to see what it is that they are looking at. 'I want to be able to count the individual pubic hairs,' one of my regulars once told me.

Marcia's 48 birthdays had not been unkind to her. She was a very good-looking woman. Her platinum-streaked hair was styled in a bob that suggested easy care. However, I suspect that the easy-care look was only achieved with the help of a very good hairstylist. And the jewellery she wore was simple but expensive.

'I think if we could see the sun today it would be well and truly over the yardarm,' I said. And I poured Marcia a glass of champagne.

'Oh. Thank you. It's a little earlier than I normally start but ... yes.' And she smiled.

'Well, you're dressed for cocktails,' I said.

'Yes. I suppose that I am.'

'Wednesday,' I said, as we sipped, 'is that a quiet day in the estate agents' world.

'Mmm ... Tuesday and Wednesday. Monday there's usually a flurry of activity after the weekend. And then on Thursday things are starting to crank up for the following weekend. So, yes. Tuesday and Wednesday seem to be the quiet days. For us anyway. It may be different in other places.'

'Are you ready to give this a go?' I asked, after we had chatted and sipped for a little bit longer.

'I guess so,' Marcia said.

I turned on the lights and got Marcia to stand on the rug, just in front of the chair. 'Have ever done any modelling?' I asked.

'No. Not really. There was this chap - a few years ago - who was always on at me to do what he called some nature photography. At least he made it clear that he wasn't talking about photos of flowers. I eventually agreed to give it a go. We went to this stream that ran through some woods. It was in Suffolk, I seem to recall. And the moment I got my clothes off, he forgot all about the photography and just wanted to shag me. I just remember getting prickles in my bum.' And she laughed.

'We will try to ensure that that doesn't happen today,' I said. 'The prickles, I mean.'

Looking through the viewfinder, I have to say that Marcia was a natural. 'Very nice,' I said. 'Very nice indeed.' Suddenly, she started to relax. I'm not sure if it was my encouragement, or if the champagne was starting to work. 'Maybe just do a slow twirl,' I said.

She twirled.

'Nice. Very nice. In fact, let's do another one - only this time, perhaps stop when you are facing the bookcase.'

Marcia turned, and then paused. 'Like this?'

'Yes. And maybe lean forward just a little. Perfect,' I said. 'A very nice bum and a perfect choice of dress, if I may say so. Now ... face this way again. And maybe just pull your dress up slightly. Let the punters see your legs.'

'Like this?' she said, as she raised the hem a couple of inches. 'Oh, dear,' she said. 'My stocking tops are a bit tangled, aren't they? It must have been when I was getting out of the cab.'

'That's OK. You can straighten them. I'll edit all this afterwards.'

'There,' she said. 'That's better. Shall I pull my dress up again?'

'Yes. I think so. You do have rather photogenic legs.'

This time Marcia raised her skirt until it was just clear of her stocking tops.

'Very nice.'

'More?' she said.

'Why not? But just slowly.' And then, suddenly, I was looking at a first peep of lightly-furred pussy. 'Well, well. No knickers,' I said. 'Gosh. I wasn't quite expecting that.'

'But it's OK?' she said, with a slight frown.

'Oh, yes. Better than OK,' I assured her. 'Do you usually go commando?'

'Depends,' she said. 'I often wear knickers to work. But not around home. And when I'm feeling naughty, I sometimes like to go to bars without any knickers. You just have to be careful bending over. Or getting on and off those high stools. And it's always fun to go commando when shopping for shoes, too,' she said. 'Especially when the salesperson is a chap.' And she laughed.

Marcia continued to pull her dress up until the hem was almost up to her waist and her vulva and pubic mound were fully displayed. 'I didn't know if I should have shaved,' she said, running her fingers across her patch of silky pubic hair.

'No, no,' I said. 'Most of my gentlemen seem to prefer a Hairy Mary. Well ... that's the feedback I get anyway.'

'You know ... I'm starting to feel quite horny,' Marcia said.

I just smiled. 'Now maybe if you leave your skirt up and turn around. Perhaps bend over and put your hands on to arms of the chair.'

Marcia turned around and bent over.

'Yes. Very nice,' I said. Filling the viewfinder were two beautiful globes of arse, separated by a smooth valley, and punctuated by a pink, puckered rosebud. And then, in the space between her slightly parted thighs, a glimpse of glistening labia. 'Very nice. Very nice indeed. I think this is going very well. How is it for you?'

'It's fun,' she said. 'I thought that it might be. But I wasn't sure.'

'Perhaps we could try you sitting down.'

'Here?' Marcia sat down in the Louis XV elbow chair. 'Like this?'

'Maybe just come forward slightly in the chair,' I said. 'Yes. Perfect.' I got a few shots from various angles. 'Are you wearing a bra under that dress?' I asked.

'No,' she said. 'Should I have?'

'No. I'm just thinking that we should pay some attention to your breasts. Can you slip the dress off your shoulders and pull it down a bit? Is that possible?'

She wriggled about a bit and first one breast popped out and then the other. 'How's that?' she said.

'Very nice.'

Marcia's breasts weren't overly large, but they weren't particularly small either. And, like her arse, they were beautifully shaped. She took one breast in each hand a sort of rearranged them a little. And then she licked her fingers and started slowly rubbing her nipples.

'Yes. Nice,' I said.

She smiled. And her smile lit up the studio. 'What would you like me to do next?' she asked.

'Well, I think the boys and girls might like to see your pussy,' I said.

'I think you mean my cunt,' she said. 'It stopped being my pussy about ten minutes ago - when it started getting hot.' She spread her thighs and glanced down. 'You can see how horny I'm getting,' she said.

'Opening up like a flower in the morning sunshine,' I said.

'The rare cunt flower. Mind you, not that rare for you, I suppose. You're looking at them all the time, aren't you? Tell me, do you go around with a hard-on all day? Or does it become just like filming turnips?'

I just smiled.

'No. It's a serious question,' she said. 'I'm curious.'

I laughed. 'Well, let's just say that when I'm filming someone as attractive as you, I have to dress very carefully. Keep everything centred. The only way is up. Avoid any unfortunate tents in the trouser department.'

'Good,' she said. 'I would hate to think that I was the only one getting off on this. Now ... what is it that I am supposed to be doing?'

'Maybe if you were to spread those luscious ... umm ... cunt lips with your fingers,' I suggested.

'Like this?'

'Perfect,' I said.

'Gosh! It's slippery in here,' Marcia said. 'We should probably have one of those yellow health and safety signs - the sort that they put out after they have mopped the marble floors in grand buildings.'

'You are having far too much fun,' I said.

'No. Not too much,' she said. 'But I am having fun. And I thought that I might. Do you want to get a close up of this?' she asked, and she slowly slid a finger into her slippery vagina. And then a second finger too.

'Yes. That's nice,' I said.

'What do you think your ... umm ... customers will be doing as they watch this? Giving their cocks a thorough working over?'

'Some,' I said. 'But they won't all have cocks,'

'Oh?'

'We say Gentleman's Relish, but some of the gentlemen will probably be ladies.'

Marcia frowned briefly. 'Mmm. Yes. I can understand that. I would certainly enjoy watching something like this.'

'Well ... who wouldn't?' I said.

'Are you?' she said, nodding in the direction of my crotch.

'Am I?'

'Yes. Are you enjoying this? More importantly, is your cock enjoying this?'

'It is not ... unmoved by the situation,' I said, choosing my words carefully.

'Oh, good. Are you going to show me?'

'Show you?'

'Yes. Are you going to show me your cock?'

'You want to see my cock?'

'Seems only fair. You've seen my cunt.' Marcia was not backward in coming forward.

'OK,' I said. And I put the camera onto the tripod and left it running. And then I undid my belt, and lowered my zip. 'Ready?'

'And waiting,' she said with a cheeky smile.

And I flipped out my half-hard cock which, thanks to Marcia's interest, was getting harder by the minute.

'I like it. It's very nice,' she said. 'Are you going to ...?' And she took her fingers out of her cunt, made an open fist, and pumped it up and down a few times.

'Are you suggesting that I should?'

'Oh, yes. I think it might get even harder if you give it a bit of encouragement.'

'I think you might be right,' I said. And I took my cock in hand and gave it a few slow pumps.

Marcia watched me with all the intensity of a cartoon cat watching a canary. 'See,' she said. 'It's growing.'

I laughed. 'It's what tends to happen.'

'Are you going to put your cock inside me?' she asked. (As I said, Marcia was not backward in coming forward.)

'Would you like me to?'

'Oh, very much.'

'It's not something that I would normally do, you understand.'

'Well, this is not something that I would normally do,' she said. 'But I'm as wet as a shag on a rock here. And you've got that nice hard cock. It seems a pity to waste the opportunity.' She looked around the studio. 'Umm ... I know, I could kneel on this chair. And you can take me from behind. Doggie style. Come on.' And she knelt on the chair, her legs spread, and her hands grasping the arm rests.

I must confess that, even at that stage, I wasn't one-hundred percent committed. But the sight of her wonderful arse tipped me over the edge. I stepped out of my trousers, moved forward, and ploughed the length of her slippery furrow with the head of my cock. And then I was into her hot hole. Holding onto her hips, I slowly plunged her depths a dozen or so times before withdrawing my cock and spreading her slippery cunt juice around her inviting arsehole. And then, with my cock back in her burrow, I went to work on her rosebud with my thumb.

'Oh, yes,' she said. 'Oh, fucking yes.'

As my thumb worked its magic, I felt her rosebud relaxing, almost pulling me into her.

'Oh, fucking yes,' she said. 'That feels so good.'

I pulled my cock from her hot tunnel and used its head to spread more slippery cunt juice around the entrance to her relaxing arsehole. When I reached the critical point, Marcia pushed back against my cock.

'Oh, yes. Just there.'

I smiled to myself. 'So, you want some cock in your arse, do you?'

'Oh, yes. I want your nice hard cock in my arse. I want you to fuck my arse.'

Slowly, gently, I fed my cock into her.

'Oh, yes. That's so good,' she said. 'You've no idea how good that feels.'

It only lasted for another five minutes or so. Marcia, who was working her clit while I fucked her, came first. And then it was my turn.

'There's a bathroom just through there,' I said. 'You know ... if you need to clean up.' She smiled and gave me the kind of kiss that a mother might give to a small child.

'What now?' Marcia said when we had both cleaned ourselves up and got our clothing sorted.

'I think another glass of champagne,' I said.

'That's a nice idea. But I was meaning with the film.'

'Well, I'll see what we've got. And give it a bit of an edit. I think turn it into a bit of a vignette. And then you can decide if you want it to be released. If you do, we'll need you to sign a Model Release.'

'And if I don't want it to be released?'

'Then hopefully we had a good afternoon.'

'Oh, we definitely had that,' Marcia said. 'We definitely had that.'

I got Marcia to leave me a contact phone number. However, when I called it, it turned out to be a 'no such number' number. I thought that perhaps I had written it down incorrectly. But I knew that she had my number, so I just decided to wait for her to call me. But she never did. Both the edited and unedited digital files are still sitting with the other masters in my safe - waiting for her to call.