Trials & Tribulations Ch. 01

When I met Laura I was 25, and she was 40. I'd recently qualified as a lawyer and, newly minted, was thrilled to be working at a prestigious firm in London. She was the founder of a big client and a force to be reckoned with, striking fear into everyone working on her account.

I found myself put in front of her regularly and despite my relative lack of experience, she seemed to favour me over the other lawyers on the team. For me, the attraction was immediate and irresistible. I've always been drawn to alpha women like iron filings to a magnet, and though she constantly made me nervous, I couldn't hide the fact that my admiration for her strayed well beyond our professional relationship.

She was striking rather than pretty; a fair bit taller than me with an athletic yet feminine figure, shoulder length curly brown hair, green eyes, and cheekbones that could cut glass. But, oh, the power she exuded!

It became obvious the attraction was mutual when my time on her account came to an end and shortly after, a discreet invitation to join her for dinner 'to thank me for my excellent work' arrived in my inbox. It was a minor violation of the firm's rules for me to accept, but I could always claim ignorance and it was just too tempting to decline, so I responded positively with my heart in my mouth.

The night arrived and we dined at a private club in Belgravia in the most sexually charged atmosphere imaginable, and at the end of the meal we barely paused long enough for her to settle the bill before we were streaming through the traffic in her chauffeur driven car on the way to her apartment, kissing passionately behind the privacy screen, our mouths open and our tongues dancing; she with her hand in my knickers and two fingers inside me.

As we pulled up outside her South Bank apartment building, she reluctantly but deliciously withdrew those fingers from me and held my wide eyed gaze as she sucked them clean, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She thanked and generously tipped her driver (Peter, who would in the months to come become a regular fixture in my life) while I made myself decent, and we made our way inside.

Her apartment was huge, elegant, open plan and obviously very expensive, over looking the Thames as it did. I felt like a child in the home of a grownup. She poured us each a glass of chilled white wine in the soft lighting of her kitchen, took my hand, and led me to her bedroom.

By the time our lovemaking was done and I eventually got to take a sip, it had warmed to room temperature. In the time between, I'd had the most sensual, urgent, passionate sex I'd ever experienced.

She'd stood me on the thick rug at the foot of her bed and undressed me like she was unwrapping a package containing the hope diamond. She deftly rolled my black sheer stockings off, then unzipped and dispensed with my little black dress, leaving me in just a black bra with exquisite lacy cups, and matching knickers which were just delicate enough to allow a glimpse of my neatly trimmed pubic hair and the soft cleft beneath.

She ran her fingers through my long dark tresses, kissed my naked shoulders and then my collar bones as her hands gently stroked my back. She unclasped my bra and removed it from me, kissing the slope of each breast as the cups fell away, before licking my dark nipples to hardness with her skilful tongue.

Sitting me on the edge of her bed, she undressed as I watched, entranced. The sight of her lithe, naked body made me want her instantly.

She slid into her bed and held the corner of the white duvet up, inviting me to join her, which I did in a hurry; the anticipation of what was to come having an immediate effect on me that added to the wet slick already developing between my legs.

Pulling me to her we kissed, passionately, for what seemed like hours. My knee found its way between her thighs, pressing on her wet sex which she rubbed against me as she moaned with pleasure.

I caressed her small breasts and sucked her pink nipples, rolling my wet tongue around them as my hand slid between her legs and I explored her silky wet folds with my fingers, slipping one delicately inside her and massaging her soft tender spot for a moment, before concentrating on her clit.

When I sensed her getting close to the brink, I slid my body down between her legs and gently kissed her trimmed mound, kissing lower and lower until I was licking through her soft wet slit, spreading her labia, tracing each of her fleshy lips and curling the tip of my tongue into her opening, eventually sucking greedily on her throbbing clit until she reached a thrashing climax.

She repeated that wonderfully intimate act on me after kissing and caressing every inch of my olive skin, although she stopped short of making me cum, despite me riding her face and grinding myself shamelessly on her mouth with my sex slippery cunt.

Instead, she took her mouth away and positioned herself between my legs, sliding one of hers under one of mine, manoeuvring herself until our vulvas were pressed deliciously together, out wet slits open to one another and our engorged clits gliding together with delicious friction, lubricated by our combined juices which squelched and smacked as we fucked.

We tribbed until we were gasping and we orgasmed together, cumming hard, and holding each other tight.

During the night, there were warning signs I failed to heed but which, looking back, should have given me all the information needed for me to understand what our relationship was to become. Disguising her intentions as playfulness, she made it clear who was in control and what my place in her life was to be, and I can't deny that it really turned me on.

After we'd made love, she sat up, her back resting against the headboard, while I lay stretched out on the bed, face up, with my feet on the pillows beside her and glowing with post orgasmic fulfilment. She stroked my leg as she looked at my prone, naked body and purred, "You have the most delicious body Charlotte. And the prettiest little cunt I've seen for a while on a woman your age." She reached further up my leg and tickled my neat little bush with her fingertips before demanding in a more serious tone, "Show it to me."

I crossed my legs and smiled with mock innocence, purposely not meeting her eyes in an attempt to tease her.

After a pregnant pause, she spoke again, her voice taking on an edge that at once both terrified and excited me. "Charlotte. It's not a good idea to refuse me when I want something from you. That would not end well. So be a good little girl, and show me that juicy fucking pussy. Now."

Tantalised by what I thought was a little bit of roleplay, I opened my legs for her and said compliantly, "Yes, Miss Laura."

She paused for a while while she examined my naked pussy, and I heard a soft "mmmmmm" coming from her as I looked up at the ceiling, enjoying the odd but erotic sensation of having my most intimate feature admired at point blank range by this powerful woman.

After a while, she reached out between my spread thighs, rested her fingers on my mound and used the ball of her thumb to stretch my clit hood up in one quick, rough motion, abruptly exposing the little fleshy button she'd so lovingly sucked on not long before. "You truly are a beautiful little cunt, Charlotte."

A little yelp of shock then escaped me as she jabbed her index finger forcefully into my vagina without warning, and pushed and twisted it inside me cruelly hard, her manicured nail scratching me painfully.

She finally took her finger out of me, knelt between my thighs and tickled my lower belly with the now glistening nail, just above and to the side of my mound. "When I put my brand on you, Charlotte, I think I'm going to put it right....here," and she deftly scratched a mark into my dusky skin at her chosen site. It was a promise she would keep.

Satisfied with the temporary branding, she stroked both hands up my stomach, cupped my breasts and pinched my nipples painfully, then carried on stroking until she reached my neck.

Her hands closed softly around my throat, a feeling so nice to my inner submissive that I closed my eyes to savour it, but then for a long moment she clamped them around it hard enough that I couldn't breathe and began to panic.

She finally relaxed her grip but kept her hands around my throat as she lowered herself onto me, forcing my thighs further apart, and rubbed her mound hard and fast against my wide open slit, exciting my tender and quivering nub with her pubic hair, and then continued to fuck me relentlessly until I came, bucking and heaving and leaving a slippery wet mess on her mound and belly.

"Did you enjoy that Charlotte?" she asked in a soft voice.

"Yes, Laura. Very much," I replied, breathless and almost purring with pleasure.

"Address me properly please Charlotte," she said, her voice still calm.

"Yes, Miss Laura," I said, a hint of amusement in my voice, having thought the roleplay to be over.

"Good girl," she said, before her voice again became sinister as she almost hissed, "Now, don't ever forget your manners with me again, you little fucking whore."

Before I could react, her face softened into a beaming smile, she kissed me lovingly on the lips and rolled off me, giggling as she lay beside me.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. But I do like to play, and you're such easy prey."

She took my hand and kissed my fingers, and then got up and went into her ensuite bathroom to use the loo. I could hear the stream of her pee splashing into the toilet bowl.

I climbed back into the bed and when she reappeared, she joined me. We kissed for a while and held each other lovingly until sleep claimed us both; me drifting off slowly and perfectly content.

In the morning she was distant and cold. When I awoke she was already showered, dressed, and sitting on one of the two cream leather settees that faced each other across her living area, with her laptop on her knees, staring intently at the screen.

I entered the room wearing only a short black satin robe I'd found hanging on the back of her door, entirely naked beneath as my knickers had yet to give up their location despite a thorough search of her bedroom floor. She looked up briefly and gave me a distracted and insincere smile. There was a pot of coffee percolating in the kitchen and I assumed it would be OK to help myself, so I filled a white mug and cradled it as I sat on the settee opposite her.

She made no attempt to start a conversation, focused entirely on her computer, and I felt awkward just being there. I sipped my coffee and looked around the stunningly appointed room, which I'd had little time to appreciate the night before. I thought of the incredible sex we'd just a few hours before, still feeling slippery between my legs from the combination of my lustful secretions and her saliva that I'd had no chance yet to shower away.

Eventually, feeling the need to break the silence and to encourage her to acknowledge my presence, I said in an unsteady voice, "Thank you for last night Laura. It was incredible."

She finally looked up and smirked. "Yes honey, you certainly were fun."

Before I could respond, feeling hurt by the casualness of her remark, she returned her eyes to the screen and said, "I hate to be rude Charlotte, but could you be out of here in a moment?" I have a friend arriving who probably wouldn't appreciate your presence."

She looked up again for a moment, smiled at me in a vain attempt to take the sting out of this announcement, and then once again returned her eyes to her screen.

I stood, crestfallen, and started to make my way to her bedroom, asking as I went, "Is your shower easy to work out?"

"There's no time to shower Charlotte. Just get dressed quickly and you can take care of that back at yours."

Now fighting back hot tears, I gathered my clothes from the various corners of her bedroom, finally finding my knickers twisted into a ball under the duvet at the foot of her bed where she'd slid them off me the night before.

Unballing them, I was not surprised to find that the gusset bore the slimy evidence of my excitement from the previous night, the result of being enthusiastically fingered and thumbed while wearing them in the back of her company Lexus.

I slid them on, the sodden strip of fabric adding to the already dire situation between my legs.

I put on my black bra with the lacy cups, feeling decidedly less sexy than when she removed it from me, followed by my little black dress, and put my black stockings in my bag. I walked back into the living room, approaching her directly from behind, allowing me a view of her computer screen over her shoulder.

Rather than the page of complex numbers I'd assumed she was poring over, the screen was filled with video footage of two naked women scissoring frantically. There was no website branding or banner. What she was watching was amateur footage and as the bodies writhed together, it became obvious that the woman on the bottom of the arrangement was Laura. I just had time to register that the woman on top was a young, angelically pretty blonde, before I passed around the side of the settee to face her.

If she had any concern that I'd seen what she was watching, she didn't show it. Instead, she looked up without a flicker of emotion and said, "Are you off then? Good. OK. I'll see you out."

She stood and put the laptop on the settee beside where she'd been sitting, walked past me to the front door and opened it. I followed her tamely, feeling like a dirty little slut, my knickers wet and grimy, about to do the time honoured walk of shame back to the much less impressive flat that I shared with my friend and colleague Sophie when we weren't working all the hours time sent.

In a final attempt to reconnect after the amazing night we'd shared together, I put my arms around her and hugged her at the door, my face in her shoulder as I said goodbye. She responded with an unenthusiastic one armed squeeze, her other hand not leaving the door she was holding open for me, and with a giggle replied, "Oh, for fuck's sake Charlotte, what are you like?"

I said goodbye again, and walked the length of the corridor to the lifts with my vision blurred from the tears that were spilling over my eyelids. As I reached out to press the call button, the adjacent lift arrived, and the door opened to reveal a stunningly pretty girl in her late teens or early twenties, who stepped out of the lift and strode confidently down the corridor. I stood and watched, rooted to the spot, as the angelic blonde from Laura's laptop knocked on the front door and was admitted to the apartment I'd left only moments before.

I caught the tube home, sure that my fellow passengers could smell my filthy knickers in the heat of the carriage, and sobbed as I showered, feeling stupid, used and abandoned. I fell asleep on my bed in my towelling robe with a towel turbaned around my hair, and slept that way for so long that when I was awoken by the ping of my phone, the sun was fading in the sky.

I picked up the phone and unlocked it with my thumbprint. A message from Laura appeared on the screen.

'You were amazing last night Charlie, and just the most beautiful, precious girl I could wish for. I probably don't deserve you, but would you like to see me again soon? I certainly want you...'

I should have deleted the message immediately and put the previous night behind me, but her words had made my heart flutter. I quickly typed my response, and pressed send....