Zoe, Again

What he had to have seen was anticipation, delight, curiosity - all good, from my point of view.

Claire tugged his shirt tails out of his Daks, unbuttoned the last button and pushed the garment off his shoulders and down his arms. Rising, she took the shirt, folded it neatly and placed it down beside him.

Wordlessly, the man rose to his feet. Claire unbuckled his belt, undid the button and the trousers slid down his legs to the floor. He lifted one leg and then the other; Claire retrieved and then folded them, placed them on top of his shirt.

Underneath, Gideon was wearing white mesh briefs. The fabric wasn't far off being transparent. His tackle was clearly visible through the mesh fabric; both his flacid length and the balls looming behind it might as well have been in fishnet. Although I had seen lots of pictures and videos, these were the first I had ever seen in real life.

Gideon, while slender, was anything but skinny. It was obvious that he worked out regularly and while not beefy and bulging, his muscles were certainly well-defined. Such body body hair as he had was curly, dark.

He seemed to me to be the epitome of masculinity. I found him deeply, endlessly desirable and I felt my breath catch as I looked at him.

He and Claire both smiled. They obviously knew what was going through my mind.

Saying not a word as he gazed at me, he merely raised that eyebrow again in inquiry. Given my lack of experience, he obviously knew that this was not the time for commands.

"If you wish," Claire said in an encouraging voice.

I wished.

I had been wishing this for a long time. I just hadn't known how to define it.

"May I help?" she added.

Much as I wanted more of both of them, right then it seemed important that it be his hands, not hers, first touching me.

"I've got it, thanks."

I stood up and unbuttoned the dress. I shivered my shoulders just slightly and the black fabric flowed down over my body to gather around my feet , exposing the harness on my body.

I squatted down to pick up the dress. Folding it, I dropped it on the sofa beside me and, heart on overdrive, stood up for their inspection. I looked at the two of them and was very pleased to see wide-eyed, open approval on both faces.

Gideon's eyes lingered on my body, ran slowly up from ankles to face, then back again.

"Turn around," he said and I spun slowly for his inspection.

His hands came together in soft but emotive applause. "Nice," he said. "Very nice!"

Claire on the other hand simply stood, stepped over to me, leaned down and drew my lips against hers in a soft but ardent kiss. Her tongue traced my inner lips, swept along my teeth. When she pulled away, her eyes were shining. She ran her fingers along the links, slowly. I could feel one tiny link after another pass under her touch and felt the sensation all the way down to my toes.

For some reason, I no longer minded her being first.

Dinner - as much of it as I can remember it - was grilled prawns with lemon and garlic. They were outstanding, wonderfully complimented by white wine and a green salad. Gideon, for it had been his work, was an admirable cook.

In one sense, it was a simple yet proper meal served by an welcoming couple to a new friend. On the other, even Inner Zoe was silenced in her awe at the profundity of its sexual nature.

I could look through the glass of the round table top and see both his mesh-enclosed manbits and her shaven sex. I enjoyed the view and relished the thought that they were both getting an equivalent view of me.

I'd not pictured my night going this way, but was thrilled in every way. I felt the chains between my legs rub gently on my labia as I leaned over to pass the wine to Gideon, felt the overhead fan's gentle breeze on my excited nipples.

It was so very, very odd, I thought. Here I was, stark naked, in the midst of that most pedestrian activity - eating dinner. Was this how it was supposed to be? I was uncertain, but definitely approved.

I found myself both grateful and a bit awed that this amazing couple had been so generous, so accepting, to include me in this.

Dinner ended simply, with Claire merely rising to take the dishes to the kitchen and stacking them in the sink.

As she did so, Gideon leaned back with a smile, openly admiring my breasts over the table. In another situation, I would have been embarrassed or angry. Tonight, I was delighted and leaned back just slightly to better emphasize them.

"I'm so very glad you decided to come tonight," he said as Claire returned. "May we show you something now?"

I nodded. What I wanted more than anything was to be shown the path to womanhood, but I had, frankly, fallen in love with Claire as much as with Gideon. She was everything I wanted to be. I ached with desire for them both. One, or the other or both - I wanted...

No - needed. 'Want' was last year.

It was Claire who took my hand and led me to the second door, beside the open one to the bedroom. Gideon followed. At the door, he took my other hand, leaned in and offered his lips to me for a kiss. How could I refuse? My head swam as our lips met; I felt Claire's hand clutch mine in encouragement as his whiskers brushed my chin.

Breaking the kiss, Gideon pushed open the door. I felt my breath catch as I saw what was inside.

I was not really surprised to find that it was a dungeon, but there was definitely nothing the slightest bit medieval about it.

The room itself was modern and quite large, easily as roomy as Gideon's substantial living room. The furniture it held was widely-spaced, giving an open and, paradoxically, almost welcoming impression. Here and there were overstuffed chairs. A large television hung on one wall. A series of wooden cabinets ran along the wall opposite.

Immaculately clean, it was decorated in light browns with a tan carpet and taupe-painted walls. An array of pot lights provided excellent illumination without being overly bright.

Were it not for the blatantly sexual nature of the setup, it might have been a high-end art gallery waiting for potential patrons to admire the works on display.

Heavy tracks on the ceiling supported pulleys, anchor points and eyebolts. There was a large bed in one corner - a four-poster with a tasteful bedspread, no less. A five-pointed star made of heavy timber and easily seven feet tall leaned against one wall. Assorted pieces of wood and metal furniture filled the room. I knew what many of them were and could guess at some of the rest, but was unsure what they were all called. I felt myself tingle as I looked at the display and considered the promise it offered for my education.

I'd been excited before Gideon had opened the door, but as I took in the display I felt myself becoming so much more so.

There were two or three smallish windows up high on one wall. There was nothing to be seen beyond them. Scattered between the windows, higher up than pictures would normally be displayed, hung a line of framed photographs - photographs of both men and women.

All were nicely framed and of professional or near-professional quality. While all involved nudity and sexuality, none had that creepy, greasy air which characterizes so much porn. These were done with talent, respect, almost with love.

The photo closest to the door was of a woman walking through a forest, ferns around her feet and knees. She was dressed in an ankle-length cloak with the hood up over her head. While the rest of the photo was in black and white, the cloak was a bold scarlet, its fiery folds falling in plunging waves to her feet.

The front of the cloak was open, exposing the magnificent naked form within. The lighting however was from overhead and the woman's face and much of her body were invisible in shadow. Indeed, what could mostly be seen were her heavy breasts, the top of one thigh and, somewhat more dimly, her stomach and one hip.

One bare foot was pushed forward by her stride. Around the ankle was buckled a sturdy yet elegant leather cuff, a heavy metal ring on its side.

The photo next to it was of Claire. She was lying back in an armchair and wearing nothing but a most elegant underbust corset with lace trim. Her dark hair flowed over her shoulders.

Her posture and expression were very calm, almost tranquil. An empty champagne flute was held loosely in her right hand. She was looking away from the camera, off to one side. While relaxed, her expression was attentive, strong. She seemed utterly content, utterly confident in her sex.

Her feet were propped up on an ottoman in front of her, showing off her long legs to advantage. The angle was such that it was impossible to tell whether or not she was wearing knickers. Her breasts on the other hand were bare and I felt a pang of jealousy at their perfection.

If one discounted her costume, it was an utterly casual, innocent pose, as if she had been caught watching television on a slow night. I found myself becoming as envious of Claire's poise as I had been of her boobs. Then I noticed something else and became even more fascinated.

A chromed curb-link chain wrapped twice around one ankle then pooled on top of the ottoman before leading off-screen. The chain was not obvious; indeed, it was almost hidden by Claire's other ankle and its shadow. Once noticed however, one's eyes were drawn to it over and over. I couldn't decide whether it had been an actual tether or whether it had just been draped over her ankle as a prop. In either case, it was remarkable, doubly so given her serene expression.

The image had that extraordinary mix of controlled elegance and casual carnality which I was learning exemplified Claire's daily life. Her expression was one of cool indifference, yet there was also an air of innocence, almost of vulnerability, which I found hard to understand.

"They're amazing!" I breathed, not daring to pull my eyes away from the images. I was afraid they would see my blush of excitement.

"Thank you," they said, almost in unison.

"Who took the photos?" I asked.

"Gideon," Claire said.

I motioned with my hand towards the other photos. "May I?"

"Of course."

Ignoring the furniture, equipment and trappings around me, I walked along the wall with my head up, inspecting the dozen or so other photographs.

The third photo had been taken in front of a pair of very tall wooden doors, something one might expect in a fairy-tale palace.

A woman, wearing but a dark thong or G-string, was standing in the door. Her arms and legs were spread-eagled across the doorway, tethered with thumb-thick ropes. Gideon, dressed in a tuxedo with a rose at his lapel, stood half in front of her, holding her waist and molding her body to his. His head was lowered towards her as if for a kiss.

The doors behind her were slightly ajar and beyond them could be seen a dining room with table set and candles lit for a very formal dinner. I got the impression that the woman would soon either be released to join the meal - no doubt dressed as she was - or else would be left standing there, displayed for the visual gratification of the unseen diners when they arrived.

Another image featured a nude woman standing in front of a set of filmy curtains.

The light from outside was very bright and had silhouetted the woman's figure. Her breasts were generous and the one nipple which could be seen was erect. Her arms were held up, crossed above her head, by a chain leading up and out of sight towards the ceiling. Her head was raised just slightly and I could see that her hair reached almost to her waist.

I found myself becoming more and more stirred by the photos. Clearly Gideon was an expert with a camera and possessed of magnificent and imaginative vision. The photos were wonderfully artistic, with their eroticism more presented for thoughtful consideration than flung in the viewer's face.

Behind me as I walked, Gideon and Claire were silent. I turned around once to find their arms around each other's waists. If it wasn't love for each other on their faces, it was at the least deep affection and I envied them for it.

The couple in the next photo were unknown to me. A naked man was bent backwards over a waist-high padded bench, his limbs pulled back and down, tethered to its base with elaborate ropework. Between his legs knelt a young - very young - woman.

As petite as the man was muscular, her dark, dishevelled hair barely reached her shoulders. While clearly nude, only one breast could be seen, just peaking over one of his thighs.

The man on the other hand was completely exposed, his erection massive, the rim of its swollen head almost sharp with pressure. The girl's pale hand was wrapped around it, her thumb pressing under the crown.

The expression on her face was one of calm attention to the task before her; that on his face was the torment of lust too long denied.

Another - merely the naked back of a standing woman, from shoulder blades to upper thighs. Chromed handcuffs encircled her wrists and biceps, chromed chains connected the manacles and hung down off the bottom of the photograph. Her bum was flawless.

A side shot of a slender young woman with very long, very pale hair squatting on her heels, a look of both surprise and puzzlement on her face as she faced the camera. The polished floor below her was very shiny and one could see an almost perfect reflection of her feet and high heeled shoes. Her arms were resting on her knees and from one hand hung a white egret plume.

Next, a table-sized flat rock, half-submerged in the middle of a pond. Ripples flowed out from the rock through beds of reeds to the shore in the distance. On the rock lay a nude woman, her light hair coiled behind her head. She was resting up on one elbow, looking down along her long legs to feet partly submerged in the clear water. Her expression was calm, but rather pensive.

From out of the water emerged a chain, each massive link the size of a large man's hand. The woman's hand was resting inside the last link. It was clear that she could have easily removed her hand should she had so wished, but some reason had chosen not to. Her free hand resting on her hip held a long-stemmed rose, its blossoms almost but not quite lying between her breasts.

There was a headshot of an unshaven, unspeakably handsome youth wearing a leather blindfold. A slim female hand was about to present a shapely breast to his lips.

Beside them in the next frame was a woman in a round-necked white dress with wide, flowing sleeves. The dress was long enough that her bare toes could just be seen. A broad leather collar encircled her neck. Her arms were outstretched and back, her bosom pushed forward. The fabric was thin enough that her dark nipples showed clearly. One hand rested on the hilt of an elaborate longsword, its blade protruding from a large rock by her feet. A slight smile, perhaps one of resolution or devotion to a cause, was on her lips.

I was amazed by the precision of Gideon's work. Each piece was perfect - perfectly envisioned, perfectly executed, perfectly erotic. Yet, while all were highly sensual, none of them were smutty. This was art in the finest sense of the word.

I was awed. It was as if Gideon had created this miniature gallery just for me, in anticipation of my coming.

I realized that I wanted to be the girl in each of those pictures. It was what I had dreamed of my whole life without knowing it. Had Gideon known? Was I that transparent?

Then I noticed that there was an empty space on the wall, the right size for the photo they had just given me. I also realized that the frame of my photo was identical to those hanging on the wall.

Was this an invitation?

I turned to the two of them. "You're missing one, aren't you?"

Claire looked up at Gideon. He nodded, as if in response to a silent question.

The two stepped closer to me, within touching distance.

He smiled. "That depends. Let's think on it, Zoe. For right now, what would you like?"

That was the elephant in the room. He knew what I wanted and it was certain that Claire knew as well. The costumes they had chosen for dinner with me were utterly explicit and mine, I thought, made my own desires and inclinations very clear. But did I dare?

My eyes slid from his face to Claire's. I wasn't sure what I would find there. To my relief - surprise? wonder? - there was a gentle smile on her face. My breath caught at the warmth of that obvious permission.

Claire took my hand and placed it in Gideon's before clasping them together. "I think that that's what you want, isn't it, Zoe?" She leaned over and kissed first me and then Gideon before stepping back.

The look in his eyes was one of total love. It was love for Claire, I knew that, but I wasn't going to let this opportunity slide.

I smiled at her in gratitude and squeezed Gideon's hand. Turning away from her, I faced him. This was no time for virginal modesty, not with this couple, not here, not now.

With my free hand, I reached down and with one gentle finger stroked the length of his organ inside its mesh container. It responded by noticeably growing.

"This," I said. "I want this, Gideon. I want you."

He smiled at me. His hands came up to cradle my head and he drew me in, his lips waiting for mine. I met him, tongue exploring for his.

I could feel that kiss all the way down to my toes. I could feel a bolt of arousal shoot through me like fire, inflaming every bit.

Gideon's hands moved from my hips, up my waist and onto my breasts, ran lightly over my skin, played with the chains. His hands seemed to have been created to provide me intense stimulation, perfect pleasure. Despite inept fumbling by early boyfriends - or more probably because of it - I had never imagined how wonderful it would be to have my breasts properly attended to. My nipples were applauding.

His strong thumbs flipped the elastic loops off them and the chains fell to below my waist. Free of the chains, his fingers played with my welcoming orbs while his thumbs rolled my nipples. I shuddered at the feeling grew. My kisses grew more demanding, more insistent.

Please, sir, I want some more!

I began running my hands up and down his torso. I grasped his bum to pull him in towards me and felt a growing bulge in his briefs against my stomach.

"I want to see it!" I told him and, wriggling out of his grasp, dropped to my knees in front of him. I ran hands across the taut fabric, thrilled to witness Gideon's obvious reaction to my efforts. Sticking my thumbs in his waist-band, I tugged the briefs down, letting them fall to his ankles and giving me my first real-life view of a man.

OK, I might have been virginal, but that wasn't the same thing as entirely innocent. This was after all the age of the internet and I'd studied.

But Cosmo articles and porn videos were one thing. This was another, the real deal. I closed my eyes, inhaled.

With that, I could smell him. It was more than just a scent of aftershave or soap. An indefinable masculine odour filled my nostrils.

Opening my eyes, his tip was just inches from my face. The first thing I noticed was the slit at its very end. Entranced, I lifted one hand and ran a fingertip over his crown.

It bounced, twitched under my finger. I giggled and was surprised to hear my laughter echoed by Claire.

Turning my head, I saw her sitting just a few metres away on a low-backed chair beside the canopied bed. Her legs were spread and her fingers covering her sex. Her eyes were fixed on Gideon and I.

"It's cute, isn't it?" she asked, one finger moving slowly between flawless thighs.

I turned from her, back to Gideon. I reached out and grasped it, almost apprehensively, by the shaft. I raised my head, looked up to see him smiling down at me.