House Rules (2 page)

The time for negotiations had arrived. Ruefully, he thought that it always came to this. Being picked up by a beautiful woman almost always came down to the matter of how much. Only in fantasies does a woman choose a complete stranger and take him home for a night of passion out of sheer love for the sport. He didn’t grudge the money. It was the mechanics of haggling and the embarrassment of handing it over that he disliked.

The girl, however, said nothing about payment. Perhaps, he thought, she was the type who waited until afterward. Or maybe the type who left the amount to the discretion of the man. That might prove even more awkward, but he would have to deal with that. He wasn’t going to walk out at this juncture.

Standing before him, she looked down with a smile. ‘Undo me,’ she said, turning so that he could get at the long zipper up the back of her clingy dress. It purred downward, and she shrugged out of the garment to stand before him in bra, panties and the sheer, glossy tights he had noticed earlier. She seemed to expect some comment, for she stood still while he looked at her.

Richard couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound banal, so he merely looked at her. He thought she was beautiful, but even that didn’t do justice to her. She removed the rest of her clothes. Watching a woman undress before his eyes usually made him silent. She let him look his fill before undressing him.

‘Lie down on the bed,’ she directed him. The girl went to the bureau and returned with a pair of handcuffs. ‘Put your hands through the bars of the headboard,’ she told him.

In a daze, Richard obeyed. She locked the cuffs on his wrists, leaving him helpless on the bed. He felt his heartbeat quicken as she stood looking down at him. His cock was becoming erect even though she had not yet touched it. The bizarre and novel situation was enough to arouse him.

The girl smiled as she sat on the bed beside him. When she touched his cock, he flinched involuntarily. She smiled again at his reaction, holding him in her hand. ‘Good so far?’ she asked, and he nodded, fascinated both by the situation and his ready acceptance of her domination.

‘Relax and let me do the work,’ she told him. She climbed on to the bed and sat astride him, facing his feet. With one hand she grasped his cock while she cupped his balls with the other.

There was nothing he could do to influence her actions, and his helplessness was brought home to him when she squeezed him sharply. He gasped in surprise. However, this reminder of his vulnerability was exciting rather than frightening. This was one of his wildest fantasies come true. He had heard rumours of clubs in London where men and women met to practise bondage and flagellation, but had dismissed them as too fantastic even while he wished he could find one himself. But no one in East Anglia was likely to know about such places. He had come to Hamburg half hoping to find someone to introduce him to domination and bondage, and had been more than half minded to choose one of the women who advertised themselves as dominatrices along the
Reeperbahn
and in the
Sankt Pauli
area. He could hardly believe his incredible luck in being picked up by a woman who looked like being the girl of his darker dreams.

Meanwhile the girl was stroking his cock slowly and expertly, and Richard felt himself growing more and more excited. She seemed bent on making him come. ‘What about yourself?’ he asked her. ‘If you keep on like this I’ll come and won’t be able to do anything for you.’

‘And does that bother you?’ she asked in her turn.

He thought for a moment before replying, ‘Yes.’

‘You are most unusual then. Most men are selfish enough to remain silent and let me go on.’ She paused and looked back at him over her shoulder. ‘Yes, I see you are concerned,’ she continued. She shifted herself so that her crotch was above his face as she bent to take his cock in her mouth.

Richard raised his head until he could lick her labia. He smelt the aroma of her musk mixed with a faint perfume, as from talcum or bath salts.

‘Umm,’ she said. ‘That’s good. Do you feel better too?’ The words were blurred because she didn’t stop sucking his cock. Without waiting for a reply, she shifted so that his tongue could reach her clitoris. She settled herself atop him and continued to arouse him.

Richard worked his tongue inside her and felt the tiny hard grape of her clitoris. With lips, tongue and gently nipping teeth he toyed with her, being rewarded by an occasional groan as she became excited in her turn. The task of arousing her took his mind away from what she was doing to him, so that the danger of an immediate solo eruption receded. He really preferred a long, slow sexual encounter to one that ended too soon.

He was so intent on what they were doing to one another that her first orgasm caught him by surprise. Abruptly she bore down on his face and moaned softly. At the same time she nipped his cock. He tensed as he felt her teeth, but then she released him as her mouth opened in a longer, deeper moan of pleasure. He felt her shudder as the spasm passed through her body. When it passed, she resumed working on his cock. Richard wanted to hold her against him, but the handcuffs prevented any more active participation on his part. He had not foreseen that aspect of bondage when he was fantasising about it, but he found that his
helplessness was turning him on in ways he had never thought possible. He was finding it hard to hold back his own orgasm as he lay beneath this extraordinary young woman who had picked him up on the street.

She moaned again as a second orgasm took her. Richard buried his face deeper in her crotch as she bucked atop him. When the peak had passed, she lay quiet for a few moments, then she shifted until they were face to face so that he could enter her. As she guided him home, she sighed with satisfaction. She lay flat against him so that her breasts were pressed against his chest. Then she began to fuck him, rising and falling on his cock and rubbing her breasts with their engorged nipples against his chest. Her next orgasm shook them both, her body shuddering as a series of peaks washed through her. She was moaning continuously, the sound rising and falling as she gasped for breath. Her mouth was wide open and her eyes closed tightly as she concentrated on her pleasure.

Richard felt as if his cock were enclosed in a burning liquid tunnel which sucked greedily at him as she moved wildly in her orgasm. He was trying hard to prolong this episode. It was one of the wildest sexual encounters he had ever experienced, and he wanted it to last. At the same time he knew that he was being pushed steadily closer to the brink. When he could delay himself no longer, he too groaned with the release of tension. The girl bucked wildly as she joined him. He thought she would fling herself off into the air, so wild were her movements. Then abruptly she slumped against him, her breath sawing in her throat.

Richard was alarmed. She seemed to be having a fit of some sort. He thought, belatedly, of those stories about having a heart attack during sex, and he wondered if that had happened to her. She lay limply against him, and he was helpless to do anything. He tugged at the handcuffs, but there was no escape. He could do nothing but look at her. And as he did he noticed that she was still breathing, albeit stertorously, and her heartbeat was strong. He could see the tiny pulse beneath her ear. All the vital signs were there, and gradually he realised that she had fainted. That was something none of his other partners had ever done. Quite an accomplishment, he thought with a quiet pride.

He lay more quietly as the initial alarm faded and his breath slowed towards normal. Indeed, there was nothing else he could do until she regained consciousness and unlocked the handcuffs. Or didn’t. He felt a thrill of excitement as he contemplated being held for hours. It would hardly be against his will.

They lay for what seemed like hours, until eventually she stirred and opened her eyes. For a moment she looked wildly at him, then recognition came to her and she smiled. She bent down and planted a kiss on his mouth before rolling off him. Richard felt a sense of regret as he slid out of her, but she was still smiling. She stood up warily, as if she didn’t trust her legs to bear her weight. Then she moved off to the bathroom. Richard could hear water splashing, and then the sound of the toilet flushing. Eventually she came back, looking refreshed but still tousled. She was still smiling as she bent to unlock his handcuffs. She laid them on the bedside table before laying herself on the bed next to him.

Free now, Richard turned over and gathered her against him. She rested her head against his shoulder and kissed him again. They lay together, and gradually she drifted off to sleep. Her head rolled on to the pillow. Richard looked for a long time at the girl lying beside him. Her hair, dark against the pillow, shone softly in the glow from the bedside lamp. He stroked it idly, drowsily, before falling asleep himself with an odd sense of better things to come.

When he woke in the morning, the other half of the bed was empty, but there was a heartening smell of fresh coffee and breakfast being cooked. He got up and followed the noises to their source. The girl was standing at the stove wearing an apron.

‘Cooking in the nude may be provocative, but there is a real danger of getting hot spatters on one’s tits. Or other vital parts,’ she added, with a glance at Richard’s cock. ‘But come and sit down while I finish our breakfast,’ she continued.

Richard sat at the scrubbed pine table and admired the girl as she moved familiarly about the kitchen. She poured coffee for them both and presently set two omelettes on the table. Toast, butter and marmalade completed the setting. As she sat down opposite Richard, he voiced the thought that had been on his mind
since they had met. ‘Do you think it proper we should have breakfast without knowing one another’s names?’

‘Is it any less proper than what we did last night without knowing one another’s names?’ she retorted with a smile. ‘But perhaps you’re right. Breakfast is a different matter, in the cold light of the morning. I am Helena Witt.’

‘Richard Stanfield. Are you related to Katarina, of figure-skating fame?’

‘I don’t think so. I am not from Chemnitz, or Karl Marx Stadt, as it used to be known. I come from Neumunster, near Kiel. Where do you live?’

‘In England. Near Bacton, on the North Norfolk coast.’ He went on to explain that he lived in a large old house in the country, a house inherited from his aunt, who had had ambitions for a large family but less success in acquiring one. ‘I was her favourite nephew,’ he told her. ‘I used to spend my school holidays with her and my uncle, rattling around in the old place and in the woods nearby. On special days we would make an expedition to the seaside: places like Mundseley and Cromer. They – my aunt and uncle – loved the North Norfolk coast and detested Great Yarmouth, which they thought unspeakably vulgar, with all those amusements and gawking visitors.’ He found himself eager to tell her more about himself. She was easy to talk to, and he felt impelled to share his confidences and experiences with her. But he stopped himself from running on about himself with an effort and asked her about her past.

‘Later,’ she told him. ‘I would like to keep some secrets. It makes me more mysterious and desirable, I think. Don’t you agree?’

‘You may be right,’ Richard agreed. ‘I know you’re mysterious and desirable enough for me as you are.’

‘Thank you,’ Helena said, with another smile. ‘And thank you for saying nothing about my surprising you last night. It was bad manners, to say the least.’

‘Not at all. I was flattered I could help you come as you did. No other woman has ever fainted in my arms, so to speak.’

‘I was surprised myself,’ she said. ‘That has never happened to me before.’ She looked at him solemnly.

‘Well, in that case, maybe we should keep one another company. Maybe something like it will happen again.’ Once again Richard was surprised to hear himself speaking so openly about his feelings with a stranger. The English reputation for reserve was not normally undeserved in his case.

Helena smiled abruptly, her solemnity disappearing. ‘I am so glad you feel that way. I feel the same. I think we will go on to discover some wonderful things together.’

They were silent after their mutual revelations, embarrassed perhaps by their own frankness. But there was an underlying current of excitement as they ate their meal.

At the end of it, Helena asked him if he had anywhere important to go that day. Richard said no, he was having an indefinite holiday from England. She seemed pleased by his answer. He was happy, because her question implied that she wanted to spend more time with him. Helena stood up.

‘Do you mind doing the washing-up, Richard? I need to get ready to go out for a bit.’

Richard nodded and watched as she took off her apron and hung it up. Nudity became her, he decided. As he washed up the breakfast things, he could hear her moving about in the apartment. The small domestic noises were reassuring. As he was finishing up, Helena came back. She was dressed and carrying a large canvas hold-all in addition to her handbag. She said she would be back in a few hours and he should make himself at home while she was out. Did he have any special requests for dinner?

‘Anything, so long as you’re around to cook it. I’m not much good at
haute cuisine
.’

She nodded, and withdrew. Richard heard her high heels tapping across the floor, then the sound of the door opening and closing as she left the apartment. He dried his hands on the apron Helena had worn and poured himself a second cup of coffee. He liked being alone in her apartment. Her leaving him there implied a certain degree of trust in him.

He took the coffee through into the bedroom, where he noticed she hadn’t made up the bed. He smoothed the sheets and drew the quilt up over the pillows. Then he picked up the clothes she had worn the last evening, hanging up her dress and taking the underwear through into the bathroom as he went to take a shower. There was a wicker basket more than half full of her underwear and tights. Richard added the things he carried to the collection and stepped into the shower. He had left his toilet things at the guest house and so had to use Helena’s things. That added another degree of intimacy to the novel situation.