She & He

The long black unmarked police limousine moved slowly through the iron gated entrance that had opened automatically as the vehicle approached.

The driver had not seen his passenger enter and was instructed not to watch him depart. The Plexiglas barrier between the front and back was darkened and opaque.

A tall figure exited and stood quietly with his back to the vehicle as it pulled away and turned back down the long tree-shrouded driveway.

The man was exquisitely dressed with an English Bowler hat, a long grey full length overcoat that showed leather elbows, a rectangular patch of dark brown leather over each breast pocket and each side pocket. A strip of the same color ran vertically up the middle and secured the large fawn buttons.

He glanced after the departing automobile and then swung his head slowly taking in the grandeur of the estate.

An ochre cobbled walkway curved gently through sculpted shrubbery meticulously tended flower beds and under ivy entwined wooden arches at regular intervals. The huge stone mansion sat silent as he ran his eyes over the architecture and countless windows and porticos, eaves and outcroppings of statuary in alcoves and prominent ledges at different levels of the structure.

He rubbed his hands together and looked down at the black patent leather shoes and the concrete he stood on. He looked again at the now empty driveway, back to the castle like structure and sighed and then began walking, slowly but purposefully toward the entrance.

The tall and wide brass festooned doors seemed to harken back to days of barricades and battering rams. Huge doors set in stone without glass apertures or handles of any sort, the door could only be opened from the inside.

The door swung open, noiselessly.

He did not consult the letter in his pocket for directions, but stepped inside, saw the foyer and another set of doors, leaded glass that led into a reception area. He had memorized the route he was instructed to take.

He paused to view and admire the opulence of his surroundings, wealth and ostentatious display that did not offend but impressed; even him.

He slowly unbuttoned the overcoat and thought to hang it on available pegs, but chose not to and moved through the double doors, walked across the room to the carved and curved stairway that led up and to the right across his vision.

The door was as described but he paused before it and lowered his head in thought. He took a deep breath and pushed on the solid polished and carved wood; it swung easily inward.

She felt the change in air pressure as the door opened; although the sound of the door was inaudible, she knew he had arrived. She felt her heart thump, her breathing accelerate and felt the tingles of apprehension from head to toe.

He stepped into the room and stopped, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light of a fireplace and a scattering of strategically placed tall thin candles that flickered from the movement of air from the door.

The room was huge and ornate, luxurious, warm and filled with a scent or scents he could not identify at first sniff. The orange and blue flames drew his eyes first and then the flickering dark shadows across the deeply carpeted floor and up the walls to murals and paintings and the full bookshelves and pedestalled marble statues that graced the room.

Then finally, as if he had been avoiding it, the tremendous bed draped with diaphanous flowing thin silk-like material slowly undulating in the moving air and the figure stretched out, tied hand and foot to the four bed posts.

He took a deep breath then another and took a step closer to the bed and the quiet figure.

"Some one is here! I can feel it! Who are you? Why am I here? Why have you tied me up like this?"

He smiled and nodded; 'all according to script.'

He did not speak but took more steps closer to the bed and looked down at her. Her blue school blazer lay carefully folded at the foot of the bed. The dark blue vest remained buttoned over the pure white blouse topped by a dark blue tie. Her pleated dark blue skirt was belted at the waist and rested just below her knees; her legs were as close together as the red velvet ropes would permit. She did not speak but he could see her chest rise and fall and could sense the movement of her eyes behind the masked blindfold.

He looked at her hair, the bangs on her forehead seemed arranged and perfect, the flowing near blonde curls framed her face and pillowed her head, also appearing carefully arranged. He observed the fine lines of her face, the strength of her chin, the prominent cheekbones, the lovely line of her neck, symmetrical in every aspect except for the quirky upturn at the corners of her lightly colored mouth.

They could hear each others breathing and each knew the other could hear, but neither spoke or moved.

His gaze softened as he continued to look at her from head to school shoed feet. He let his head lower and took another deep breath and moved his shoulders slightly and shuffled his feet. He removed the heavy overcoat, folded it slowly and placed it on the end of the massive bed; removed his jacket and tie and the gold cufflinks from the shirt, slipped them into a pocket in the jacket and rolled his sleeves up to the elbow.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"That is not in the script. Stay in character please." Her voice carried a small quaver.

He sighed, audibly, took another step, lowered himself to sit on the bed next to her and lowered his face to hers.

"Oh! Oh! A beard! But you don't have a beard! Oh? Is it you? It sounded like you! Is it you?"

He did not answer, but lowered his face to her neck and moved his hands to her shoulders and upper arms and began to explore her scent and skin.

She became instantly agitated, turned her face away from him, pulled against the restraints on her arms and legs and moved her body away from him as far as she could. "Stop it! Wait! Is it really you? Let me see! Take off the mask, please!"

He did not stop but continued to gently run his hands over her shoulders and arms and his lips over her face and neck.

"Look, this was a bad idea. I changed my mind, I..."

He put his left hand softly over her mouth and bent his head to her ear. "Shhh...it's all right, stay in character..."

She quieted, somewhat, breathing deeply, gasping for air, her chest heaving, but she quit struggling against the restraints.

He moved his lips to her cheeks and to the corners of her mouth and she turned away. "Don't kiss me! I won't kiss you!"

He smiled, 'back on script...' and continued the gentle unhurried exploration of her body and her face. He sat up and back for a moment and ran his hands down her arms and laced his fingers in hers; she did not resist, nor did she respond to his fingers caressing hers.

She did gasp when he lowered his head to the vest covering her breasts and let his hands explore both sides of her torso to her waist, to her hips, to her thighs.

"Ah, uh, really now, I'm not sure of this. I think I don't like it. Would you please just stop now?"

'Not in the script...' he thought...and thought again.

He lifted his head off her chest, firmly grasped her hair in both hands and forced his mouth down on hers. She turned away, struggling against him and broke contact with his mouth. He took one hand from her hair and pinched her nose, covered her mouth with his until she gasped and opened her lips and took his breath into her and breathed into him.

"Goddamn you! Why are you doing this to me? Leave me alone. Go away! I don't want you to do this! I can pay; more money than you will ever know! Just let me loose, go away!"

He relaxed his grip on her and moved his face away; 'back on script...'

She stiffened her body when he slowly moved a hand down across her stomach and abdomen and down between her legs and with four fingers pressed against her, moving his hand in a circular motion.

"Oh! Oh, don't do that!"

'Still on script...' he smiled as he let his other hand roam over her body, touching every part within his easy reach.

When she relaxed and let him touch her, he stopped, sat up and moved his hands to the buttons on her vest.

"Let's see what you are hiding under here." He said in a light voice.

"Why are you torturing me? If you're gonna do it, just do it and get it over with!"

'Still near script, but no tears...' He thought and brought both hands to her breasts, massaging firmly as he watched her masked face.

"Please, please, please, just stop, please!"

And the tears came and the plea in the voice matched.

He unbuttoned the dark blue vest slowly, one button at a time until it opened and exposed the blouse beneath. He smiled and placed a hand on each small breast, gently rotating his palms against her. She moaned softly.

"Would this be a regular tie or a clip-on?" he asked as he put his right hand to the knot in the tie.

"Oh, I say, a real tie!" He said as he unknotted it and gently pulled it from around her collar and placed it on the side of the huge bed.

Her chest heaved and she flung her head from side to side. "I really don't want to do this any more. You are scaring me, please just stop and go away, please!"

'Off script again...' He observed and began to unbutton her blouse from the very top. He opened the top and placed his lips in the hollow of her neck and felt her pulse and unbuttoned the next and the next until the slight cleavage and upheaval was visible and again lowered his head and his mouth to the soft warm flesh. "I love your scent; is it Jasmine?"

She gasped at the heat of his breath and wiggled her shoulders and tried to move her chest away from him. "Oh, damn!"

At her small outburst, he lifted his head and quickly loosened the remaining buttons on the silky blouse and pulled it from the waistband of her skirt. He held the gently curved ends of the garment in each hand and looked at the triangle shaped incision on each side and pulled the material apart exposing her brassiere.

She felt the cool air course across her and tossed her head back and forth as he lowered his head to a breast and blew steadily where he felt the erect nipple against his lips.

"Oh! Don't do that! "Oh, God, stop it!"

He smiled and shifted to the opposite breast and blew again and began running his hands from her arms to her knees. She shivered and quivered beneath him. He sat up and placed his palms on her stomach and slowly moved his hand upward, cupping her still covered breasts.

He sat up again and gazed down at her now quiet body with the white brassiere making a contrast to her skin color which had changed somewhat, as a blush of pink graced her cheeks and neck. A look of indecision crossed his face as he focused on her girlish, not yet woman's appearance, the absolutely clear and unwrinkled skin, the roundness of her cheeks; the soft flesh of well toned arm muscles.

"Are you looking at me? Don't look at me, let me loose!"

He smiled slightly as she prompted him back on script. He reached to the end of the bed and rummaged through a pocket in his jacket and pulled forth a small blunt ended pair of scissors and held them in his hand as he turned back to her.

"What are you doing now? Oh, damn, that's cold!"

He smiled again as he slipped one blade of the scissors under the middle of the brassiere, moved the jaws up and clipped through the heavy material. "A shame to destroy such a lovely thing..." he mumbled as he snipped again, "but I don't want to let you loose, not just yet."

She gasped as the last 'snip' separated the cups and they sprang apart exposing her breasts.

"Don't look at me! Don't touch me anymore!"

He smiled and leaned back away from her; laid the scissors near the edge of the bed and slowly unbuttoned and removed his pale blue dress shirt, folded it awkwardly and placed it atop his jacket.

He felt her tense her body as he changed position, moved over her and slowly lowered his chest.

"Oh! Oh..." she gasped, "Oh..." As he put his face in the hollow of her neck and let his weight rest full on her chest.

"I can't breathe!" she cried out and tried to shift his weight from her.

He rose up slightly off of her as she took several deep breaths. He smiled and let his lips roam over her cheeks, gently, in an intended soothing manner. She quieted quickly and relaxed as he touched her.

She became agitated again as he kissed his way to her neck and down, then up a rising mound of flesh and took a rigid nipple into his mouth.

"Oh God!"

She squirmed and wriggled as he let his hands roam and touch and moved his mouth from breast to breast, sometimes rough and then gentle. The blush deepened across her neck and upper chest.

"Oh, please stop! Don't touch me anymore! I can't stand it! You're scaring me!"

She kept gasping for air as he pulled back away from her and rested his hands on the bed. He observed the flush of her skin and the red blotches left by his beard on the tender flesh.

After a moment he stood and moved to the foot of the bed. She started when he touched her foot, and then lay passive as he removed her shoes and white anklets.

"Don't look at my feet, they are ugly."

'Off script...' he smiled, leaned over and took all five toes in his mouth.

"That's gross!" she hissed and tried to pull her foot away. He grasped her ankle and kept nibbling on her toes until she finally lay still again.

He sat up again, leaned over and removed his shoes and socks, stood up and unbuckled a gold fastener and let his dress trousers fall to the carpet.

"What are you doing?" There was apprehension in her voice.

'Back on script...' he thought as he moved a little way up the side of the bed.

He stood silent, looking at her where the school skirt had lifted slightly above the knee on one leg, watching the rapid rise and fall of her breathing in her abdomen and chest, the restless slight movements of her legs and confined arms.

She gasped again when she felt his hands on her legs just below the knees.

"Look, let's not do anymore of this, okay? I was wrong. I want you to leave now."

'Off script again...' he thought as a frown crossed his face. He tilted his head this way then, that and then gathered a handful of the hemmed skirt in each hand and rolled it up and folded it evenly just above her knees.

"Oh, please stop!"

He gathered and folded another four inches of skirt, exposing the thickness of her thighs above the knees. He began speaking softly almost to himself and not to her: "Now I wonder just what might be under this lovely little skirt? Would it be school issue white underwear, very modest in style? Or would it be of your own choosing? If so would it be a teeny bikini style or even a thong? No, I think not. I would guess a medium style, pastel, maybe a small tasteful decoration...."

"That's not even in the script." She said with a hint of a smile in her voice.

"Oh." He chuckled, as he folded the next layer of skirt and exposed a satin slip that stopped at mid thigh. He let his hands caresses the silky, slick material on the outside of the slip up and up the sides of her legs until he could feel the panty line with his fingers.

"Ah," he said, "conservative but not too much."

She moved in a restless manner as the arousal dampened and left her with the reality of the situation to contend with.

He smiled as he noted her breathing had slowed. He ran his hands together over her abdomen still covered with the skirt and slip and then down, one hand between her legs and the other caressing her thighs.

He pulled his hands back and rolled and folded another layer of skirt, but could not get the slippery slip to cooperate.

She let a little sound escape her throat as she inhaled deeply and exhaled long and slow. She tensed again as she felt him pull the skirt up over her hips and fold it around her waist.

As if he had grown impatient, he took hold of the slip, lifted her slightly and pushed it up beneath the skirt, exposing pale blue panties with a single small rose imprint centered under the top elastic band.

"Oh!' she gasped as the air flowed across her bare thighs.

He smiled and lowered his head between her legs just above the knees and began slowly working upward as she quivered and moved her legs back and forth.

"Oh, God!" she uttered as he placed his mouth against the softness and pressed and moved with a slow circular motion.

When he finally stopped and sat up again at the foot of the bed, she sighed a long sigh and let her arms and legs fall limp on the bed.

He reached for the scissors again and bent over her. "Really hate to do this, they are very nice...and expensive too, I would think.".

She squirmed a little as he ran the scissor blade across her warm thigh and under the side of her underwear, first on one side then the other with a soft snipping sound.

She gasped as he pulled the front panel down, exposing her and then out from under her. She could not see as he gently let the destroyed garment fall to the carpeted floor beside the bed.

"You...you're looking at me! No one has ever seen me! Oh..." She struggled to bring her legs together until they pulled up short against the restraints. "Don't look at me!"

'Pretty much on script...' he smiled as he moved back over her and between her legs.

"Oh!" she stiffened as he moved over her. "I feel your legs on me! When did you take your clothes off? Oh, my!"

'Off script again...' He moved up, put his face in her neck again and slowly lowered his weight on her.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God! I really don't want you to do this. Please stop! Get off me. Go away!"

He lay quietly on top of her as she struggled and twisted under him and then finally quieted, panting alongside his head.

He waited until she quieted again and then shifted his weight, moved down, caressing and then kissing her breasts and letting a hand explore between her legs and down her thighs.

She protested and complained and twisted and turned and begged him to stop and then finally gasped out: "Oh, Jesus God almighty!" as he put his face between her legs and sought and found. She continued to struggle a moment more and then relaxed, crying lightly and finally with a deep sound in her throat, lifted her hips to push against his face.

He kept the motion of his lips constant and regular until she cried out again and moved rapidly and harshly against his face and finally arched and collapsed, limp from head to toe.

He moved up slightly and rested his head on the crumpled skirt and slip and quietly slipped out of his boxers, then moved up a little more and rested his head on her breasts.

"I want to look at you. I want my arms around you." She said in a very quiet voice.

He lifted up and moved to place his lips alongside her ear. "That's not in the script," he whispered, "you are supposed to resist until it is too late."

"To hell with the script...! I want you! I want you now!

He waited until she was once again quiet and in control.

"I'm sorry." She whispered back. "You're right."

He lifted his head and attempted to kiss her mouth again, she turned away. He rained kisses on her face and used his hands on her breasts and her body with one hand exploring the moist folds between her legs. She twisted and turned, pleading with him to stop, panting and groaning and crying and gasping as she become fully aroused again.

He rose up over her and shifted to where his hips were between her legs.

"Please don't!" She strained against the restraints in a renewed struggle, moving her hips to avoid him.

He moved into position, feeling the touch of her thighs to guide him up and into the folds and the moisture.

"Don't do this!" She screamed in a final plea.

He reached up and pulled the mask up over her forehead and off and waited until she quit blinking her eyes and could focus on his.