Never Mind The Face Pt. 05

Chapter 11. Exotic Fantasy Yields Results

She called me a week later, the first time she'd done as she'd promised. Things had got worse for her at work. Her job was going badly. Her employers were putting more pressure on her to resign. She told me she was looking for a way out.

"Simon, I need to see you. I'm desperate for someone to talk to. I could do with the distraction. Are you free this weekend?"

She had a 50:50 chance that I would be free, as indeed I was.

"At your parents' house?"

"No, they're at home. I don't want to spend time there when they're there. Come to my house in Dorset."

I drove to her small house on the Friday evening. She was living in a small, newly-built terraced house on a village housing estate. When she opened the door, she looked crestfallen, though not at my arrival. Something was seriously troubling her. She couldn't make eye contact with me.

We hugged in the small hallway. I kissed her, but her lips did not respond. She seemed strangely unemotional and dispassionate. It caused an ache in the pit of my stomach. Whatever was on her mind must be serious. Yet she had made an effort to receive me. She was wearing an above the knee denim skirt and a sapphire blue silk blouse. Her unclad nipples grazed the inner surface of the top as her shoulders moved. Her body looked primed for sex; her face did not. I tried to suppress my erection. Never mind the face...

"I came as soon as I could, but I'm not sure I should stay overnight."

The truth was that I was free the next day, but I wanted to keep my options open, just in case the situation became awkward. I couldn't bear the prospect of sleeping alone in her guest room, any more than not having sex with her. Despite two wonderful sex sessions with her in the past, we hadn't connected mentally or emotionally. For me, the motivation had mostly been about naked bodies and raw sex. I didn't have any emotional feelings towards Sylvia as a lover, a deficit which I very much regretted. I had no idea what her emotional feelings were. Using her body for sex was morally as repugnant as her body was alluring.

All the pleasure seemed to be one way, for my benefit alone. She had said that she fantasised about sex between us, and enjoyed our lovemaking. Yet I could not see how she benefited at all, in the absence of having any orgasms herself. I felt guilty about using her, which had been a good reason to my mind for not contacting her again.

Her physical welfare also concerned me a great deal, as did her mental health. I would try to raise her mood, perhaps counsel her. Then it wouldn't be a wasted trip.

I had brought a change of clothes, just in case, though.

She cooked us a delicious evening meal and we downed a bottle of wine. It wasn't enough to inebriate me, but I was above the legal limit for driving. We sat together on the sofa in her lounge, and she talked about her present predicament, her future hopes and aspirations. She sat with her legs tucked underneath her bottom, revealing occasional flashes of her panties as she shifted position. It never appeared deliberate. I felt guilty every time my eyes were drawn to it.

I let her talk. This encounter was about her problems, not mine.

I could sense that she was trying to flirt, though I couldn't understand why. She shifted her legs more than she needed to, offering more prolonged glimpses up her skirt. She waved her arms about as she spoke, the motions serving only to make her breasts shake and her nipples scrape the inside surface of her blouse. The shiny silk material seemed to amplify the visual effect. It was all contrived, yet to what purpose? She would be unlikely to benefit from sexual activity. Nor did she seem to want it. Maybe it was her way of establishing a link with me? I'd be guilty of selfish self-indulgence, though, if I succumbed. I could not reciprocate and please her. I wished I hadn't drunk that wine, and could go home as I had intended. I didn't attempt to make a pass at her.

The course of our discussions confirmed that sex was probably the last thing on her mind. I was relieved, even though my balls were turning blue with a surfeit of impatient sperm.

At last, we were all talked out.

"I'm tired," she declared. "Thank you for listening to me. I'm going upstairs now. You can have the guest room."

Then she was gone. I sat there, deflated, nursing a half erection. My heart sank at the prospect of having to stay the night, sleeping alone in a room next to her arousingly unclothed body. She had told me before that she always slept in the nude. I considered invading her private space and fucking her, but I knew that I would regret it afterwards though I suspect that she would forgive me.

I cleaned my teeth in the bathroom and freshened up my important places, a habit I had picked up before bedtimes when times with my wife had been good. I always liked to be fragrant all over at bedtime, even if only for sleeping.

I sat on the side of the guest bed, the light still on, staring into space and pondering why I could not stop myself feeling so low. Why had Sylvia invited me over when she was too distracted even to socialise, let alone fornicate? Had it really been just to talk? If so, why hadn't she said anything significant?

~*~*~

I was still sat on the edge of the bed half an hour later, my mind going round in circles, when there was a tentative knock on the bedroom door.

It opened slowly. Sylvia stood on the threshold. I had dreaded her coming to me even more than not sleeping with her. The last thing I wanted was more one-way sex, using her body like a fuck doll.

My jaw dropped at what confronted me. My mouth yawned into a chasm of surprise. She had dressed in an astonishingly erotic, two-piece belly-dancing outfit. Nothing could have been more inappropriate to the mood of the evening to that point of the evening. She had never dressed up for me before, nor even hinted at such erotic behaviour. At no point during that fraught evening had she offered any hint or desire for sex play.

Her body looked stunningly sexy, yet it was at odds with her body language. My erection sprang up despite my overwhelming feeling of its inappropriateness.

I stared at her body, trying to rationalise my immediate enthusiasm for sex, against what had gone before.

Her outfit was certainly very sexy. Her motive for dressing up in it could hardly be misunderstood. The covering for her breasts was not a bra as such. It was more an intricately woven cage of thin metallic vines wrought in gold-coloured wires, with tiny leaves fashioned out of gold painted material. The bra left exposed a great deal of breast flesh, only her nipples being artfully concealed by small leaves.

A skirt of layers of thin gold tassels hung low on her hips on a thin, low-slung gold coloured waist band. She stood with one knee bent forward, protruding through the tassels, exposing her skin all the way up to the waistband. It suggested no panties under the garment.

She was holding a portable camcorder in hand. She had taken to heart the telephone sex conversation.

Her mood appeared to have brightened as well, though I could never be sure with Sylvia how long it would last.

She began to explain, swinging her forward knee from side to side, exposing more of her inner thigh as she explained why she had dressed up for me. Where before she had spoken all evening in sullen tones, now she injected allure into her tone. She seemed like a different woman.

"I guessed you wouldn't be asleep. I know how much you like to look at my body. I like to see you looking at me. To feel you getting turned on excites me. I have dreams about your cock stiffening before my eyes. I bought this outfit in a sex shop, when I bought that thong. I've never done that before. I thought that you would enjoy me doing something sexy for your voyeuristic pleasure.

"I'm sure you'll enjoy filming my body. I will get great pleasure from performing for you. You can take the camera home with you to download the videotape to your computer. We can talk on the telephone whilst you watch it. If you enjoy the experience, there's more where that came from. That should give you a reason to come again, to return the camera to me.

"Maybe we can watch it together some time? We both need some sexual excitement. I'd like you to enjoy my body, and think of me when you're alone at home."

Simply hearing her speak those words sent spasms of excitement chasing each other through my torso. My cock stiffened with thoughts of the possibilities.

The cause of her apparent reticence earlier that evening was now possibly partly explained. Being filmed naked the first time must be a daunting prospect for most women. It suggested a degree of trust in me that she would offer me the chance to film her, and entrust the footage to me to take away and edit and download. I could see that this was her way of fighting her depression through living her fantasy.

I opened my mouth to reply. She could tell already from my face that my response would be positive. She pre-empted my reply, by moving towards me and putting a finger to my lips.

"There's one thing I must ask in return. Whilst I perform, you mustn't masturbate, or come. After my striptease, you must give me an orgasm. After you have done that, you can do whatever you want to me, and I mean absolutely anything you want to do with my body. I know you'll want to, after I've performed. I know what turns you on. Do you agree?"

The tantalising offer of free use of her body both stunned and excited me. It was a reckless offer on her part, given the endless possibilities it afforded me, but one that she probably knew I would not abuse - unduly. She trusted me. But her condition would be a severe challenge to my sexual prowess. I wasn't sure that I was capable of giving her an orgasm.

I had to make sure she was serious.

"That's a very enticing offer. You don't need to throw yourself at me to ask me to give you satisfaction, you know?" That was a lie, designed to make me seem honourable. In reality I was already straining on a metaphorical leash to get at her body and enjoy it to the full.

"I want it like this. You give me what I want and that will be your reward. Let's go downstairs and make a movie, but only for you, to watch alone at home, nobody else."

This was new territory. I'd never handled a movie camera before. I didn't even know there were such cameras for home use. It was bulky and a bit of a handful to manipulate. This was still early days for this technology.

My brain buzzed as she seized my hand and dragged me determinedly down the stairs. At that moment, her offer didn't feel as much erotic as coldly transactional.

She had been busy whilst I sat in frustration on my bed. The lounge was lit, but the atmosphere felt very different from earlier in the evening. Sylvia had set the stage for our filming with some care and attention to details. She must have been confident that I would agree. I realised only then just how important this was to her. I thanked my lucky stars that I'd decided to stay overnight and not risk driving home under the influence.

The room was subtly illuminated. She had lit perfumed joss sticks to infuse the air with sensual odours. Cushions were arranged on the carpet, and the walls backlit with table lamps that gave off a subdued lighting. She crossed to the hi-fi unit, and the sound of seductive music quickly began to fill the room.

She handed me the video recorder and showed me again how to operate it. Words can't describe how overwhelmed I felt at that moment by her offer. For a woman to be so understanding of my needs was humbling. That she wanted something particular for herself from it, paled into insignificance.

Her mood had brightened considerably, now that her plan was about to be put into operation. Her mood that evening had probably been as much caused by trepidation as other causes. I knew that she was an exhibitionist, so allowing her body to be videoed would not have explained her mental disposition. I suspected that she had been suffering anxiety about her plan potentially failing to excite me enough to want to do whatever it took to make her climax. She was setting great store by what happened in the next hour or so.

Her voice was clearly brighter now as she prepared for action. She was more prepared to interact.

"Sit and relax on the cushions, and enjoy the show. You're already naked, so that's a start. What do you think of my outfit?"

"It's fabulous, stunning."

Staring at her largely exposed flesh beneath the very skimpy top and tassels was exciting me tenfold. I selfishly thought less of what she was doing and why, and more about what I could gain from it.

This was going to be my first experience of a one-to-one striptease, and I was being given permission to film it!

I set the camera to record in low light internal conditions, placed it behind me on a coffee table, then sat back to enjoy the show.

Sylvia's face was an inspiration in itself. All of her reticence of earlier in the evening had gone. She was now self-confident in something she was certain would excite me. Her face glowed with her own anticipation for her upcoming performance. Thoughts of this must have been what had been preoccupying her all evening. The notion that she had bought the camera specially for this purpose thrilled me. The fact that she had not hinted at it earlier puzzled me. But her demeanour now held my rapt attention.

She picked up a small piece of fabric from a coffee table and secured it around her lower face. It was a dark, semi-transparent face veil that covered her mouth and nose. Only her eyes were visible to me under the parted curtain of her dark hair. The mostly obscuring effect of the veil made her eyes look sexier and more alluring; her mouth and parted lips little more than a vague impression behind the veil.

Then she produced from beside an armchair a much larger expanse of dark translucent material, which she attached by a loose, thin strap around her neck, and by two more straps at the sides to her wrists. It enclosed her body in a veil of mystery, hinted at by darker shadows under the veil and glints of reflected light off the wired top and tassels. Her feet were bare feet.

She was suddenly transformed into a mysterious harem dancer. I sat up eagerly to watch her performance.

She tiptoed seductively with balletic poise to the centre of the room and began slow sinuous movements with her hips.

Her transformation was complete, from shy, nervous Sylvia of the office to sensuously sexy vamp.

Her eyes transfixed me with their steady, seductive gaze above the face veil. I had a sense of being prey to this figure's voracious appetite for man. She dominated the centre of the floor space with flowing body movements that emphasised the voluptuousness of her hips. She introduced shakes of her shoulders, to draw attention to her bust's bounteousness.

My body trembled as she pressed all my buttons.

She leant back on the arm of a chair and raised a leg through the open front of the veil. Glittering tassels fell away either side of her raised thigh, to conceal her opened crotch. My body shuddered as my desire intensified. This teasing hint at what was concealed behind the tassels and beneath the veil made her dance all the sexier, my anticipation of the end game all the greater.

Her body should have, by then, held few mysteries for me, yet here she was surprising and arousing me anew, by the artful partial concealment of her body.

She knew just how to excite my interest. She rolled and shimmied her hips like a seasoned dancer. She offered fleeting, veiled glimpses of bare hip as tassels threshed about under the onslaught of her shimmying hips.

The tempo of the music increased, and she whirled faster and faster like a dervish, the tassels and veil flying outwards like the swings on a carousel.

Then a new music track began with a seductive tom-tom beat. Her body came to rest with the change in tempo. She swayed her hips gently, and reached behind her back through the veil material to unsnap her bra. The video camera had been passively recording her moves up to that moment. I seized the camera from the table now to record her movements more dynamically. I fought my trembling hands to hold it steady as my body shuddered from repeated waves of intense excitement. But I wanted to move in close to record the revealing of her body from a variety of angles.

As she shimmied her bust, the bra gradually slipped down the upper curves of her breasts, offering progressively more revealing glimpses of her ample, deep cleavage. Her nipples came into view behind the veil. The weight of the wired bra finally succumbed to the pull of gravity and it fell inside the veil. Her breasts looked both elusive and astonishingly sumptuous behind the gauze. Her arousal was reflected in her eyes which seemed enlarged with surprise at her body's own reaction to her wanton tease. The rubbing of the veil against her erect and sensitised nipples made her gasp. She shook them from side to side then to exacerbate the sensations and revel in her wanton display.

Her eyes followed me as I prowled around her to capture her body from all angles on video.

She turned her back on the camera and flipped up the veil to show flashes of her bottom between the tassels as she shimmied her hips. Then she slowed her movements again, to focus attention on the next reveal. Her hands went to the back of the waist band and unhooked the eyes which held the tasselled skirt together. Her hips rocked to help displace the skirt of tassels. As it fell away, she whirled around to face me and the camera, and gather folds of the veil at the front to obscure the wonderfully tantalising view of her naked body under the semi-translucent material.

Every seductive sway of her hips offered random glimpses of parts of her body beneath the gauze.

Her own excitement visibly mounted. She was immersed in her feelings and sensations as she continued to dance and show off her curves. It hardly mattered to either of us what music played now. My eyes were glued to her dance moves, the camera faithfully recording her oft sultry, sometimes frenzied moves.

She turned her back and loosened the body veil at her neck. She held it closed at her chest as she whirled around faster and faster. It tented, the lower hem ballooning outwards to reveal more and more of the bare flesh of her legs, then her thighs. At last, she let go of it and it spun away to reveal her full nakedness.

I let the camera dwell on her naked body for a few minutes as she morphed fluidly through several poses that showed off her curves to perfection. She ended her performance by sinking to her knees and spreading them apart to open up her vulva and labia. Her upper body fell backwards with her proud nipples and firm breasts pointing skywards. I sank onto my belly and zoomed in on her parted pussy and the valley of her breasts behind it.

I stopping the recording. My hands were freed to applaud her loudly, as much to encourage her for future repeats of the performance, as to reward her braveness and finesse.

"That was truly astonishing. I didn't know you could dance like that. You were absolutely superb, and so achingly sexy."

Her face flushed. "Nor did I - know I could perform like that, I mean. I was inspired by the moment. That was for you alone, Simon. Take care of that videotape. I shall want to watch it back with you another day."

I went to her and removed the face veil. I could feel her body trembling from both her exertions and her strong sexual excitement. She clung to my body with a sexual hunger that begged to be satisfied. My cock was crushed, pointing upwards, against her taut belly. After a few moments of mutual closeness, she danced away from me and ran to the stairs, laughing with delight.