Well Situated with Hidden Potential

"I thought not. You didn't even set a safe word. And while spontaneity is good, you really do need to set at least some boundaries. There are things I could to do you now that you wouldn't like at all."

Rebecca felt a cold chill run all the way down her back. She probably should have done a bit more research that just flick though Fifty Shades of Grey again. She'd spent so long imaging him doing all the things she wanted doing to her, that she hadn't really stopped to consider what any of the things she didn't want might be.

He gave her a light slap on the behind. "Luckily for you, my fetishes include beautiful women and making love to beautiful women. The only thing I know about your fetishes are that they involve no talking. So I've not got a lot to work with. Your safe word is...well you're not talking are you, so it could be almost anything. Your safe word is 'manicotti'. We're unlikely to bring that up in natural conversation."

It was fairly unlikely, because Rebecca didn't know what it meant. When she had imagined humiliation, she'd imagined being called words like slut, whore or cock-sucker. She hadn't imagined being made to feel slightly stupid. She wasn't sure she liked it. On the other hand, she had Phillip exactly where she wanted him, in control, so she wasn't entirely sure she disliked it either.

He kneeled and started to pull down her tights. She wiggled helpfully, but tights were tight. He got them about halfway down and then suddenly said "What's that smell?"

Oh, great, thought Rebecca. Having her intelligence insulted was bad enough, now he was starting on her body odour. This was some next level humiliation. It couldn't be that bad surely. She'd showered in the morning and she'd even had korma instead of her usual vindaloo at the works do last night 'just in case', but she'd been on her feet all day, in and out of houses and in this weather it was difficult to avoid smelling of wet dog.

"No, seriously, manicotti for a second or whatever," he said. "What is that smell?" After a moment, she smelled it as well, burning.

"Ah, got it. Is this one of yours?" he asked. He held up a charred condom packet. "It fell into the storage heater just now." He opened it up. The heat had burned a small hole through one side. "I don't suppose you have any more?"

Rebecca shook her head. Her fantasies had originally involved him doing her without, an additional act of submission, but just as she was leaving the house in the morning she'd thought better of it. It might earn her a swift and hard 'no' from Phillip as well as the obvious health risks, or it might lead into a conversation about being a responsible adult which was one definitely of the things she was trying to avoid in this scenario. She'd grabbed one from bedside table on her way out of the house but only one. She considered the practicalities of getting more. Either she'd have to get dressed and drive them somewhere or Phillip would have to go out in the rain again and try to find a news-agents. She usually found her boyfriend reaching down and scrabbling around in a drawer in the dark for thirty seconds a mood killer. Stopping now for reprovisionsing was unthinkable after the genius of her set-up just now.

"Don't worry. We can manage without one, I think." Phillip said. Rebecca wasn't sure if he meant they could fuck without or if they could have fun without fucking. Please let it be the former, she thought. She was pretty sure however, that he'd phrased it that way deliberately to mess with her head. Phillip went round behind her again, unplugged the heater and moved it away.

"Right, now the first thing we need to do with a dirty girl is give her a wash." Phillip said. He was back on his knees. He dipped his hands in the water, squirted a couple of drops of shower-gel on her and started to rub it across her body. It smelled of lemons: a clean rather than erotic smell, but they were working with what they had. He started with her shoulders and, even though it felt good, it took him an agonizingly long time to reach the areas she really wanted clean. Nevertheless, his warm hands felt good and she moaned appreciatively anyway. After reaching her buttocks, he continued down to her thighs and calves. You missed a bit, she thought.

After doing her left leg, he suddenly stopped. "This isn't working," he said to himself. He came back into her field of view briefly, taking off his trousers and pants. She got the impression he was erect but she couldn't get a proper look at him. He returned to washing her. Once he'd done her right leg, he squirted more shower-gel into his hand and reached up carefully between her legs. He started with her public hair at the front, washing it, then rinsing out the suds again and again. She'd thought about shaving for today. Now she was glad that she hadn't. Once the hair was done, he focused lower down, not using the gel, but just washing the outside with clean water. There was then a brief moment where she could hear water splashing behind her. He's cleaning himself, she thought. He then went back to the storage box and retrieved the hairdryer. Plugging it where the storage heater had been he blew her back and lower regions dry.

He leant forward to kiss her back. He tried to go higher to her neck, but with the stocks it was awkward, so he headed south down her spine instead. He held and caressed each buttock and then he spread her legs wider and dived in with his tongue.

While she'd earlier cursed him for being too methodical, it now had its benefits. It wasn't just that he knew what he was doing, he knew how to find out what to do. He would try one area or stroke and wait for a reaction. Then he'd either try it again, alter it slightly, or move onto something completely different. After about five minutes of careful and gentle experimentation, he started to eat her in earnest. The effect was electric, constant and kept building and building.

He pulled his mouth way from her. Again his head was at her shoulders and she could feel his dick at her entrance. "The trick with to making love with a woman," he said, "is to make sure she's on the edge when you start." He started rubbing his cock back and forward across her slit. He must know she was wet and that he could start fucking her anytime, but he still wanted to tease. Finally, he changed position, angling it upwards and prepared to enter her. He waited for a second. He was going to be entering her uncovered and, she guessed, was giving her a chance to use her safe word if she wanted. She didn't.

Then he was inside her and her world changed. It was like she was floating on a wave of pleasure. She'd had lots of boyfriends before and some of them had made her feel good. Eventually. But with Phillip it was everything all at once. Once in, he began moving slowly and rhythmically, both hands on her shoulders. They seemed to be the perfect high for each other, she hardly needed to bend her knees or hips at all and they were moving like a well lubricated machine. Had it been wrong at all, it would have been very uncomfortable with her hands and her head trapped in the stocks, rubbing or banging against it.

Being trapped, unable to look at her lover, was a strange experience. Early on in her sex life, a boyfriend had called her a 'pillow princess' during a stupid fight about something else. Even since, she'd been very conscious about being an active sex partner and her lovemaking had definitely gotten better as a result. This changed all that, she didn't have to do anything, couldn't do anything except be used. And yet, she was finding all her needs were magically met as well. She wondered how big he was, as she hadn't gotten a good look yet. It was difficult to tell from the sensations. He felt big, but she'd been on the edge when he'd entered her, so maybe she was reacting to that rather than pure size.

She came first. She hadn't supposed to be talking but as he'd picked up steam she found herself grunting, moaning and finally shouting out 'Jesus, fuck me hard' and other blasphemy. For a moment she wondered how well sound travelled into the upstairs house. Surely not much, they were underground, but she'd met and exchanged some brief words with the middle-aged couple who lived there. She imagined their lovemaking interrupting their daily dose of mid-afternoon Countdown. She really couldn't risk getting caught, so she bit her lip until nearly the end, but when she finally came, she came loud.

Once her judders subsided, Phillip, remaining inside her, reached round and turned the key in the padlock. It sprang open and he lifted the bar of the stocks up. He took her by both hands and only then did he let his cock leave her. He led her over to the bench still holding her hands above her head. She wanted to turn around to look at him, but he wouldn't let her. She was still curious about his penis, but somehow not seeing it was hotter. He pushed her gently down onto the bench and started to fasten the straps.

He went off to get something. Again she cursed not being able to see. When he returned, she felt some kind of liquid on her back. It wasn't the shower-gel. It didn't smell of lemons. It dribbled down between her arse cheeks. She felt a hand and then a thumb slowly massaging it in. After several seconds, the thumb rested on her asshole. Again he paused there. Again he was asking for permission without actually asking. Again she gave it with silence.

She'd had mixed success with anal sex before. She'd tried it with a couple of boyfriends, but it was real twentieth date stuff. Several attempts had to be abandoned, some were successful but mostly unenjoyable, and only one had her partner been able to make her cum in that way. She wasn't sure what it had been about the position or the situation but they'd tried again the next night and not been able to recreate it. She'd broken up with him soon after that for unrelated reasons, so the mysteries of her anus remained largely unsovled. She knew that giving a man free reign to her body was to invite him to that hole, that given the chance to take liberties, it was always the liberty they rushed to first. She really wished she knew what kind of size to expect.

In the end, he worked with fingers mostly to begin with. Probing and worming his way gentle into her. Sporadically he'd add just a little bit more of the mystery lubricant. Again she couldn't be anything but passive. Lying face forward, her main feeling was one of being completely exposed. The advice was always to relax when preparing for anal sex. She wasn't relaxed exactly, but neither was she struggling in her mind. That area was very intimate, but his touch was pleasant. Eventually a whole finger was there and then shortly afterwards two. He began to move them back and forth slowly. As he did so the rest of his fingers wandered gently down to her pussy. If she had had an arm free, she would probably have brushed them away. She was still sensitive there from her earlier orgasm. As it was she had to tolerate them.

Eventually, he moved his hand out. Before doing anything else, he quickly washed his hands under the showerhead. Then he was behind her again. Just like before, he positioned his member at the entrance. Again, he waited for a safe word that never came. Then slowly he pushed his way in. She felt her hole open then close around him. She could feel he'd only put the very tip in. He withdrew it and then put it in again. This time he entered more easily and went just fractionally deeper. This time when he withdrew, he made slight adjustments to the bench. She found her behind raised up slightly more. The next time he put it in he was gentle like the first time, but again and again each time he took things just a little further. Within about the five strokes he wasn't pulling out completely, and by the eight he was clearly fucking her. It was careful and deliberate. Anal sex was still a mixture of pain and pleasure, but there hadn't been the unpleasant stings she usually associated with it.

"You like that, don't you?" he growled at her. She nodded. She'd come to realize that the dirty talk was a performance for her benefit. Did it help? She guessed so. In her fantasies she'd imagined him saying worse. He hadn't called her anything worse than a dirty girl yet. Still he spoke with authority and knew what he was doing and his voice so close to her ear was so incredibly sexy. She didn't need more.

His thrusts were picking up speed. Only once did he miss a beat slightly and she cried out in sudden pain. He slowed and was more careful and then, seeing she was okay, picked up speed again. The increase in intensity did start her vocalising her pleasure again. The last three or four thrust were deeper and she let out gasps that got louder and louder. He suddenly pulled out and a moment later she felt spots of warmth across his back. He'd yelled out 'Oh God' as he finished. Rebecca felt empty for a second. She had expected him to finish inside her, wanted it. She guessed that he thought the final push would be too much for her. He may have been right but she'd have endured it for him. She'd not come herself from it. She wondered why as she'd been able to before. Maybe it was just too soon after her previous orgasm. Phillip was a great lover, but he wasn't a machine and had cum reasonably quickly inside the tighter of her holes.

He came and unstrapped her. He helped her up with a supporting hand and took her over to the shower. His manhood was fading the first time she saw it, but she was still shocked by how big it was. She had suspected, but he was the best-endowed man she had ever had. He started the water, but she took the showerhead off him and this time she washed him first, paying special attention to his chest hair. They only had one towel, so they took it in turns to use it and the hairdryer to dry off. They did this in silence, but not due to some enforced rule, but as a kind of contentment.

Finally, as they were getting dressed again, Phillip spoke up, "You know, you could have just asked me to dinner."

Rebecca laughed, "Where's the fun in that? You would have talked about house prices in Beeston all evening, then told me I was too young for such a relationship. Which is probably true, by the way, but not what I wanted to hear. This way was more fun and left any questions till afterwards. Questions which can have simple answers, by the way."

Phillip nodded. "I probably would at that. Your way is certainly simpler. I haven't...I mean since..."

He faltered at this point. Rebecca replied, "It's okay. I understand."

"So what's next?" he asked.

She played with her hair. "Well, what's next is me putting in an offer on this place, at least once the Australians have worked out how little it's actually worth. It's perfect for work, and has a certain unique appeal to me. Once I've set-up here, I might invite you round for that dinner."

"Oh," said Phillip. "You're planning on doing a lot of entertaining?"

"Well I may have found a new hobby," she said playfully. "One that may help me to widen my social circle."

She had finally found herself a place that would not only get her out of her mother's hair, but also which suited her down to the ground. There were certain ethical issues involved in an estate agent buying a property they represented, but nothing that couldn't be worked around. Buying a house wasn't easy and nothing was ever certain, but on the bright side, even if someone did put in a higher offer than her, that would certainly be a person she'd be very interested in meeting.