4 comments/ 33901 views/ 0 favorites Who I Am By: Erotica_Writings She walked towards me in her leather, her attitude was crisp like her words. "I am your Mistress and I demand to be pleased. " she said very sternly and then smiled. I had never actually seen a woman like her before, sure I read about them, but then I read the big bad wolf too as a kid and never met one. She ran her hand through my silky blond hair and grabbed the back of it tightly bringing my soft pink lips to hers. My heart began to race and my nipples began to get so hard and erect as she helped me into my black leather chastity belt, leather bra and my collar. I wore black leather thigh high boots with six inch heels. "I will do what ever you wish Mistress." I told her falling right into my role. She began to kiss my long lily white neck, making me feel quite warm all over, her hands ran over the flesh of my tight ass and she had me to get on my knees and to lick her juicy pussy. I had never experienced such a feeling before as she ordered me to my feet and we went to join the party that was down stairs and back to our husbands. I kept looking at her during the party wanting to taste more of her. At one point at the party she caught me pushing me in the corner and placed her fingers in my hot juicy pussy and licked them. Looking back every so often to make sure no one was noticing her fingering my hot pussy. I placed my hands on her shoulders as I felt my wetness on her fingers as they glided into my pussy and out. She stopped and licked her fingers clean. I watched her firm rounded ass cheeks that were exposed by the cut out holes on each ass cheek. her leather pants were made for easy access to her body with the peek a boo crotch. she joined her husband who caressed those firm cheeks that I had began to yearn deeply for. What was happening to me? I love my husband very much yet this woman is controlling me, my wants and my desire, the desire to have her making love to me. She smiled at me from across the room as if we were lovers hiding our secret of being unfaithful, we were being unfaithful at this Halloween Party and the party theme was Bdsm. Don't ask me I haven't the slightest clue. Today at three o'clock in the afternoon I was telling my third grade class room good bye and be safe trick or treating and now here I am shy Kathy wants to do and be spanked by Cally does whips and chains. What has happened to me? I am married to a very handsome and wealthy plastic surgeon and I am wanting to fuck this woman across the room from me who is making my pussy so wet and juicy. What spell has been cast over me by this woman who indeed delights me to say the least. I have visions of sexual pleasure with her and yet I have never even fantasized about women much less allowing one to touch me and yes damn it I want to fuck her brains out. Alright Kathy pull your self together Dan is watching and wondering what is wrong with me. Is my lust for this other woman giving me away with neon lights on my fore head that says leg licker? Good one Kathy now you are paranoid, there isn't any way that Dan would know how you want to run your tongue through this woman's sticky sweet juicy pussy. Mmmmmm the thought just made me gush more thick creamy juices from my pussy. Kathy stop it! Dan is noticing your erect nipples and the fact that I was actually beginning to sway my hips back and forth as I thought of licking her so very clean. Great Dan wants to dance. I wonder if sexual tension has an odor? I never thought about it before now. Mmmmmm it feels good to feel his hands on my back, my body pressed up against his. When I close my eyes Dan turns into Cally in my mind. My body and mind wants her just as much as I do. I have to go to the restroom! Hurry, hurry did he hear me whisper her name as he touched my ass cheek firmly while we danced? I looked in the mirror as I stood over the bathroom sink just letting the water run into the sink. Who was this strange woman looking back at me? I am quite a looker for a woman in her forties, I still have a great firm body with perky tits. Shit someone is knocking on the door! Its her! I know it she followed me to the bathroom! She is going to do me right here! Right now! She is going to give me that hot tight body of hers! Pull your self together and open the door slowly and act cool not like a nerd. Oh gross its an old woman dressed up like biker Barbie gone bad! Ooooh No! that woman has to be sixty and dressed like that. Gross! There's Dan talking to her and her husband! How will I be able to act normal around her? Oh no this can't be happening to me! Good smile as he introduces you to them, My her husband is very tall and well built. She kissed my cheek and her smell of fresh lilacs is driving me wild! Stop giggling like a school girl for Christ sake their looking strangely at you! Did I hear correctly we're going back to their house for fun and games? What is going on? Have we all been possessed by these costumes we're wearing? I am standing in this woman's house, I am drinking a cock tail with her and her husband and my husband and I can't take my eyes off of her cleavage and those perfectly rounded breast as I sit on her love seat across from her. She is standing up smiling at me. She is coming over here! My heart is going to beat out of my chest as she straddles my lap and begins to kiss me using her tongue to go softly across my lips as her hand caresses my breast, I find my hands on her tight ass, Oh it feels so sinfully delightful. She is getting up and takes both of my hands leading me into a room with a bed with hand and cuffs attached to the bed with long chains. She is laying me down and begins to secure me to the bed. She removes my Chastity belt and is now placing a mask over my eyes so I can not see anything. I hear Dan and her husband in the room with us. She is in control here I hear her telling them where to be on the bed and where to drip the hot wax at. What have I gotten myself into? Their going to burn me with hot wax on my flesh! Mmmmmm she is between my thighs licking my hot horny pussy. My hips grind harder against her face, I feel my husband and her husband both sucking my breast. Oh this feels so good. I want to shoot my hot juices into her mouth. What the fuck was that on my nipples? It burnt but damn it felt good to. She is telling them to drip it now on my juicy soaked pussy! I begin to tell them no and they turn me over so she may strap my ass for trying to be disobedient. Oh my that hurt so bad that it actually felt good. I want to come so badly into a climax with this woman's mouth. Will you please just go back to eating my pussy? I beg but it went unheard and I felt the hot wax on my swollen throbbing clit and I moaned loudly. Now her husband is dripping the wax and fingering me and my hips arch up at him as he drives me wild. I hear Dan moan loudly saying oh fuck me baby. What was going on? Was he fucking her? It made me mad that he was touching her and her him I wanted them both to belong just to me! Oh but her husband was making my pussy throb. Was that his tongue eating my pussy to my asshole? Oh, oh yes, yes, oh, oh I want to pinch my nipples and suddenly I feel hot wax drip on to my nipple. Oh, Mmmmmm yes, yes that feels so fucking good. Move that long tongue of yours lover! Now she is back kissing me with her hot tongue as her husband is eating me out, she is straddling my face with her cum soaked pussy by my husband and I lick up both of their juices as she grinds that pussy in my face and I hear my husband moaning. What is he doing? He is jacking off! I wish I could see, but Oh her husband is making me want to come all over his long tongue as she grinds my face with her pussy and now her husband has stuck his hard throbbing cock in my pussy! It feels as if he is on his knees with my legs over his lap and he is pounding my Pussy and she is ordering us all to come, to come now with her as I drink her juices and my pussy explodes all over her husbands cock as my husband shoots his hot juices and hits me in the side of my face and her husbands cock fills me up with his hot thick juices. I am breathing heavy as they remove my blinders, mask whatever you want to call it. She smiles at me as she helps to remove the wax from my body which actually felt really sensual while they were removing it. We went home, I felt totally alive and closer to my husband. I still wondered who she was though this woman who I thought cast some magical spell over us. I smiled gazing out the window into the darkness. It's morning already, I am tired, but I feel really, really good. I smiled all the way to school, hell I was humming as I wrote on the chock board. There was a knock at my class room door. I was shocked to see the dozen red roses. I smiled being so Thankful for a loving husband. When I read the card I was shocked. How? How is this even possible?. Oh I can not tell you the panic that filled my body when I read that card. I thought it was over, but is it? Sure is was fun last night, but I full filled my desire and I am comfortable with my old life. It's over, right? I thought to myself as I read her note. Your Mistress is who I am... Remember to always say please. Softly hold me, Run your fingers softly over my cheek. No not like that! I am displeased, get on your knees. I will spank you with my whip until I am pleased, No you cannot escape me. I effect you like a disease, When you bore me then I shall leave. Mistress Cally. I felt a warm gush in my white silk panties holding the card in my trembling hand from my Mistress Cally wondering how she could know my thoughts and where I worked? She was truly bewitching. Copyright (c)2003 Erotica Writings Who I Am Sobia stood looking out of her tenth floor office block watching the Friday evening traffic crawl towards the weekend. She was anxious, waiting for a telephone call before she could go home. Her PA had gone home hours ago and only the cleaners were now in the building. Her brief case was packed, her coat wrapped across the back of her custom designed chair but she could not leave until this call came otherwise the day's business would all be in vain. The client had promised six thirty at the latest and it was now almost seven. She had promised Phillip she would be back by seven thirty. Isabel would be there as well. If she arrived after eight she knew Phillip would spank her but Isabel would reap the benefit. What had so far been a good day was rapidly falling apart. Sobia walked in the house at quarter to nine; Isabel and Phillip were both on the sofa listening to some Wagnerian dirge which Sobia hated. Isabel was pleased to see her and called out the moment Sobia came into the room. "Darling," she called out, "how lovely to see you. You look tired." Sobia explained the frustrations of the day's end and Isabel was, typically, sympathetic and kind. Phillip stood up, announced that dinner was ready and marched into the kitchen. The two women looked at each other, Sobia's expression and gestures asking the other woman how things stood. Isabel gestured with her hands to indicate she was unsure. "It's on the table," Phillip called from the kitchen. The two women walked in together. Isabel walked straight to her chair and Phillip was already standing behind his. Then Sobia noticed there were only two places laid and only two plates of food. All three stood and said nothing. Sobia searched the faces of both for some mediation but it was clear that Isabel's silent gesture of a few moments ago had been a lie. She knew. Phillip spoke. "You were supposed to be home by eight." "Yes, I'm sorry but..." He cut her short. "Go to your room," he ordered, "and get ready for bed." Briefly Sobia stood her ground and looked at both faces to see if there was any possibility of a reprieve. Both were expressionless and she turned around and did as she was told. The spanking, when it came soon after, was not as severe as some. But it was not her backside that hurt so much but that afterwards he left her to go to Isabel. She had so wanted him tonight and to be spanked and then left was cruel. She imagined Isabel laying on the bed waiting for him to return, her slim, perfectly proportioned, milky white body sprawled across the bed. When he came and undressed she would have cooed at scale of his erection that properly belonged to her. She imagined them fucking for hours. She sobbed herself to sleep. The following morning, only seconds after the sun broke through Sobia's bedroom window, she felt a weight bearing down on the side of her mattress. She turned over. It was Phillip. She lay back and looked him, silently and sulkily. It was one of her talents that she could effortlessly move from young, ambitious, aspiring executive to a sulky girl. "You were cruel to me last night," she muttered, barely opening her mouth. He paused before replying, keen not to sound as though he had come to apologise. "You said you would be home before eight and you weren't and so you were punished." "I don't mean that. I mean afterwards. Afterwards, when you went to Isabel. I wanted you. I always want you afterwards, you know that. But you fucked her instead. That was cruel, very cruel." He stayed silent. "You did fuck her, didn't you?" "Of course." "Yes, of course. Anyway," she continued, getting out of bed and going to the wardrobe to remove her clothes, "she's only your whore, isn't she?" She looked quickly at him to see if she had provoked him but she had not. "Yes, she is my whore." "The live-in-whore," she echoed, "how unusual, how quaint!" He got up. "We've discussed this before. Anyway, she's going today." Sobia paused for a moment and was about to register her pleasure at this news and ask if she would have him to herself this evening but decided not to give him that satisfaction, no matter how much she wanted him. An hour later she kissed him as she got out of the taxi to chair an important meeting for which Phillip had already briefed her. Just before closing the door she said, "Eight o'clock." "Eight o'clock," he confirmed. She threw him a salacious smile. What Phillip had failed to tell Sobia was that her father was one of the delegates attending Phillip's own meeting. Sobia's father had introduced the two about three months ago because he so much respected Phillip's experience, range of contacts and ability; he thought his daughter would benefit from his advice. An old fashioned Asian patriarch he had, rather naively, assumed that his twenty five year old daughter would be safe with a man precisely thirty years older than her. It is just possible that Phillip decided to fuck Isabel last night rather than Sobia because he could not bear to look her father in the face the following morning. Whereas the spanking, for poor punctuality, her father might have approved of. Business flowed through Sobia's veins. Her father pushed her hard at school from the beginning; every mathematical problem, no matter how simple, he presented to her in terms of money and business. He liked to talk to her about decision making even when she was too young to make decisions about anything. He taught her ambition. He taught her how to win. At twenty five she was already holding a position that most rarely achieved until they were thirty and they were almost always men. Sobia's father asked Phillip, an old business colleague who he had known for years, to be on hand to offer his daughter occasional advice in difficult situations. He also asked him, as a man of the world, to keep an eye on her in more worldly matters; there were, after all, some unscrupulous men in the business to which a young woman might become fatally vulnerable no matter how clever she might otherwise be. Initially, Phillip demurred on this: he had no desire to play the father figure to over ambitious young women. Until, that is, he met her. One morning, two days after these requests were made and accepted, Phillip decided to cement this responsibility by calling Sobia and taking her out for lunch. He thought she would not mind -- she did not -- if he offered her the name of some useful contacts as well as some people to be wary of. By the time the sweet course came the business relationship was forged. Afterwards he took her home and fucked her. She was not a virgin, which did not surprise him; she also had an orgasm, which for one of Phillip's women was rare. Within hours the roles of father and lover were entwined. Twenty four hours later she was convinced she could not live without him and the more he fucked her, the more she believed it. When, later, the lover turned out to be a father as well and exercised strict disciplinary measures for wayward behaviour she accepted it without question. The following evening she arrived home a long time before eight, sorely hoping that Isabel had gone. As she entered the house she looked around for signs of Isabel's possessions but there were none. Beautiful smells wafted from the kitchen. "Darling, what consummate timing, I was just about to pour the G&T!" She threw her arms around him and gave him a passionate kiss. At one moment he moved to pull away but she held the back of his neck tightly until the kiss had finished, telling him how much she loved him. For him, more than anything else, it was the soft, silken feel of the youthful body in his arms that he ached for. "Turn round," he said, their lips barely separated. She smiled, knowing what he meant. With her back now against him and her arms in the air, he brought his hands around her front and grasped her breasts, figuring her nipples with his thumbs. He was infatuated with her breasts. He had never seen any so beautiful in his life. Sometimes he demanded she walk around the house stripped to her waist just so that he could wallow in their visual delights. "Can't we eat a little later?" She asked. "Of course, other appetites must come first," he said, as indeed for him they usually did. He took her hand and led her to his bedroom. At the bathroom he stopped. "Go and get undressed," he said and patted her on the bottom as he went into the bathroom. He did not like to undress in her presence; he liked to go to her as the finished article. He checked himself out in the full length mirror and although he badly wanted her, his cock failed fully to register the urgency. He pumped it hard with his hand as porn stars do before they film. When he walked into the bedroom she was sitting on the side of the bed. "Um," she uttered as he walked towards her, as though she was just about to have a sumptuous meal, which in fact she was. He took her head gently in his hands and directed his cock into her mouth, then carefully eased it back and forth. At times it was hard for her to breathe but he held her head tightly. Soon he was urgent. "Lie back," he said. He took her left leg and pushed it aside far enough to enter her easily and she gasped as she always did. It was only just in time. He was quick. Very quick. "Good girl, good girl," he gasped, as he always did at this point. After he came he withdrew, physically and emotionally and she was left empty. Of course, he was her teacher, had taught her everything, but these moments left her desolate. She thought sometimes of telling him but he would be angry. Students should not presume to tell their mentors things they know so little of themselves; yet she had waited for him almost a whole day and now he was asleep. When his deep breathing reassured her he was in a deep sleep she slipped her fingers between her legs and quietly finished the job he had started in the kitchen. Phillip and Sobia's father, Sammie, lunched after their meeting. It was a relaxed and comfortable affair. Most of the time they discussed work related matters, until some twenty minutes before they finished. "And so," Sammie asked, "how is that daughter of mine?" "Oh, she's fine, just fine. She's quite a girl, you know." Sammie beamed. "Really?" "Oh, yes. You've certainly taught her a thing or two about business, Sammie. She has a certain, what shall I call it, acumen, intuition, well beyond her years." Sammie was overwhelmed with pleasure. "You really think so?" "Certainly. Frankly, I think she can achieve anything she wants. It's down to her. She's got it all." "Well," the proud father replied, pensively and with affection for his listener as well, "I can't tell you how much I value your kindness in keeping an eye on her, I know just how busy you are. If she gets in the way, you just get on with your own work but any bad reports I would still like to hear from you." "There won't be any bad reports I can assure you." "Is she seeing any men, do you know, that's the sort of thing that worries me? I know what some of these young bucks in this trade are like." "You leave her to me I'll make sure she comes to no harm. I even take her to lunch occasionally, that's how much trouble she is!" They laughed, more loudly than they should have done in a busy restaurant. "You're a rare bird, Phillip, you really are." Sammie had spent all Sobia's life worrying about her. He never felt truly up to the job of bringing up a girl and young woman in these times. Now, for the first time, he truly felt she was safe. A surrogate father! What luck! Sobia's phone rang. "Hello. Sorry? Oh, yes, sorry, sorry. Luke. Yes, of course I remember you, I was just preoccupied with something, something from work, it's nothing, really." Now listening to the voice at the other end, her face quickly betrayed conflicting emotions. She began gesticulating extravagantly as she searched for the right words. "Yes, yes, I'd love to. When? Erm....yes that'd be fine. Where...where exactly? Yes, I know it. Sure. Lovely. Look forward to seeing you. Bye." She sat down and began breathing heavily. She was afraid and the realisation of this was more worrying than being afraid itself. She had been trying to put Luke to the back of mind. She had met him about a month ago at a meeting. They got on well. She liked him, perhaps she liked him a lot. She had recently texted him and a few others about some work related issue so he had her number and obviously was now feeling that they had got on well enough to invite her for a drink. She could not deny she was attracted to him but what about Phillip? She was not a free woman, was she? Was she? In the end she lied to Phillip and met Luke and spent a disarmingly pleasant evening with him in a wine bar in a part of town she knew Phillip never ventured to. At moments during the evening she kept asking herself why she was so enjoying herself. It came to her finally: she was relaxed and realised that otherwise she never was, not at work, or with Phillip, or with her father, both of whom were always spying on her or subtly interrogating her about her life. Luke did none of these but she kept thinking that any moment he would but he never did. He did other strange things. He listened to her. He did not dominate the conversation; he even gave the impression he was interested in what she had to say. He took seriously what she said and thought about it. He made her laugh and she made him laugh. There was no sinister subtext to what he said: what he meant was what he said. Good God, he was courteous and polite! On the way into bar and on the way out, he gestured to the door with his left hand and gently placed his other hand on the small of her back for her to go first. She wondered if, at the end of the evening, his mask would drop and he would invent some flimsy excuse to get her on her own or leap at her with a clumsy grope, but no. Were there really such men as this? Perhaps. He asked to see her again but she was in such turmoil because of the intense pleasure of the evening and because of Phillip, that she prevaricated and said she would call him. She could not understand why this evening troubled her. There were obvious explanations, primarily guilt because she had lied to Phillip. But that was not it, not remotely. It was something deeper, something far more troubling, that was not just about Phillip, nor about Luke but about her. A terrible suspicion that a lovely man like Luke could never make her happy. Not Luke specifically but men like him, the kind of men that women are scouring the streets of the city for or investing their dreams in the Personal Ads, without luck. This was not about happiness; after all, what did that really add up to? Contentment? Perhaps; well, if there was such a thing, it was about being who you believe you are even if you do not like who you are, even if that makes you unhappy. Luke only offered something superficial and transient, a mere diversion from that brute fact. That was the difference then, between men like Phillip and men like Luke. Alone in the taxi on the way home she held her head in her hands. Maybe Luke would forget her; maybe he did not enjoy himself, as she did. Maybe it would all be all right. Now, though, she would have to face Phillip's inquisition. Sobia could never lie to Phillip. The moment she came in he knew what she had been doing. Without saying a word her forced her across his knee and tanned her backside until she yelled. Almost two hours later Phillip moved over to Sobia's bedroom door and opened it slightly before returning to the sofa and his beloved Wagner. For five minutes nothing happened until Sobia emerged. She walked in on all fours, doggie style, wearing only her bra and pants and padded over towards him. She stopped directly in front of him, still in the same four-legged position. They stared at each other but said nothing. Sobia eventually broke the silence. "So, are you going to speak to me at all, ever?" He said nothing. She now got up on her knees so that it was harder for him to ignore her. She tried again. "Well?" "Why do you want to speak to me, I thought you preferred the company of schoolboys." "Actually, he's twenty six." "As I said, a schoolboy." "I only had a drink with him, that's all, I didn't go to bed with him." "Did you enjoy yourself?" "Actually, yes." This candid reply surprised him; he thought she would lie. "Phillip!" She said wearily. "It doesn't mean anything." At this point she pushed his legs apart and shuffled up to the sofa so that she could be nearer to him. He did not resist. This was to be a difficult explanation, one she had wanted many times to say but was sure he would misunderstand and be angry. But now she felt she had to try. As she spoke she moved her hands, affectionately, up and down his legs. "Sometimes I just need a break." "From me?" "No, not from you, from us." "I don't understand that." She spoke carefully, searching for the words that would not make him angry or impatient. "I suppose you might call it light relief." He looked and studied her face carefully as she spoke. "When I was with Luke last night I did enjoy myself, I admit it. He was easy to be with because I was relaxed and it was fun. And we're never relaxed are we? And we certainly don't do 'fun' either." He continued the careful scrutiny of her face. "But, and this is what you must understand, on the way home I realised that, whilst he seemed to be a lovely man, probably the kind of man most women would queue up for, I knew that I couldn't make a life out that. An evening yes, a week-end, holiday, yes, but not a life. Sure, he was kind, considerate, gentle and for all I know a wow in bed, but not a life. It wouldn't last would it and what would I be left with after it had gone? Boredom forever. But with us there's a kind of......I'm not sure there is a word that really fits us, but it's a kind 'edge' when we're together and I can't live without it but I didn't understand that until last night. With you I can be different people, I don't have to be a single person, whether you're fucking me, punishing me or teaching me things. But if I were with someone like Luke I would have to be the same person all the time and life would lose its 'edge', but I can't live on the 'edge' always, sometimes I need break." She stopped and searched his face for some response before adding, "That's it, I guess." After a moment he picked hold of her hand and planted on it a gentle kiss: a silent but eloquent reply and she understood every syllable of it. Nevertheless, poor man, he should be given the opportunity to express himself in his own way, in his own language. She unclasped her bra and removed it, flicked her fingers over her nipples so that they hardened. His hands were raised in an instant to clasp her breasts but she intercepted them and put them back by his side. Without taking her eyes off him she undid the button at the top of his trousers and pulled them down. The strength of his erection had pushed the elasticated part of his pants out from his waist. She stood up to remove her own pants, then straddled him and slowly directed his cock inside her. He was a big man and she always gasped slightly at this moment. He remained still whilst she rode up and down his cock until he came, quickly, as usual. 'Never underestimate the expressive power of male sexuality' was one of the first lessons he ever taught her and she had not forgotten it. Soon the two lay in bed side by side in sleep's oblivion: the sorcerer and the apprentice, although it was difficult to know which was which. The exorcism of Luke had to be done quickly. Sobia had arranged to have the next morning off so she did not wake until late, by which time Phillip had gone. She got out of bed, made quite sure he had gone and called Luke. He had a busy day ahead and finding time to meet Sobia for lunch was difficult but, for her, he was prepared to change his arrangements. Equally, she was not prepared to take 'no' for an answer. So it was : two o'clock. Who I Am The restaurant was busy and noisy, noisy enough for them to believe that their conversation would not be heard. They were sitting close enough for their bodies to touch. Things were moving and quickly. Sobia was wearing a beautiful, light blue shirt with nothing underneath it, offering Luke plentiful opportunities for a serious a study of her nipples. He was also able to see that, despite being unfettered, her breasts had lost nothing of their shape. The conversation centred on their respective, romantic entanglements as each one tried to ascertain the strength and depth of the opposition. "Fifty five!" "I know," she said, with that girlish laughter that always laid Phillip out, "it's crazy. I just was fascinated to know what it would be like with someone so much older. You know, an experience to put under your belt? But nothing long term, of course. We have an arrangement which recognises that it is important we have relationships of....you know...a more normal kind." "What kind of relationships?" "Oh, anything really. I know he sees a woman called Isabel and I know he sleeps with her sometimes." Luke was being slowly ensnared. "Don't you mind?" "No," she said, as though she had merely told him that sometimes he is late home, "I've met a her quite a few times, she's very nice and, of course, nearer to his age." Luke wanted to ask her if she too slept with other men, nearer her own age, but just in time he realised that, as things had been developing between them since they arrived, it would reek of self interest. He opted instead for flattery, the barometer by which Sobia measured the progress she was making with any man, whether she intended to fuck him or not. "Well, that's the kind of attitude towards relationships I would like to have, but I don't think I'm up to that kind of arrangement. You impress me." She smiled at him. "Do I really?" "Really." "That's good. I was afraid it was only my tits that were impressing you." He had been found out. "It's all right, I'm flattered, really." This was a favourite ploy of Sobia's and one that rarely failed: work hard to put someone at their ease and then wrong foot them completely. After that she reassured them that she was not offended, so they felt better, their relief masking the fact that the fact Sobia had taken control of the whole situation. Then she placed her hand at the top of his leg, fractionally below his crotch and said, "If we were somewhere else, you might get an even better view." They arrived at Luke's house almost an hour later, his desire for Sobia was so great by this time that he was becoming tetchy and introspective. Once inside he tried to control himself, influenced by the unhurried way that Sobia removed her coat and pointed casually upwards in the direction of the stairs, "This way?" Luke's self control only just lasted long enough to get inside the bedroom door and then his hands were at the buttons of Sobia's blouse. Well, he had learned a little about this woman during the evening but not much. She firmly, but affectionately, grasped his hands and removed them from her chest before he had time to release a single button. What followed was a master class of seduction and sexual power: nothing happened in the ensuing forty-five minutes that Sobia did not orchestrate. Her body and his was like a single, complex musical instrument that she manipulated to her desired effect; like all great virtuosi it appeared effortless. She pressed all the right buttons at precisely the right moments, held and released them with perfect timing, faultlessly attaining the desired effect again and again. Of course, Luke played his part but not independently any more than a beautiful piano starts playing without the pianist. Even his cock seemed more hers than his. After Sobia removed his groping hands from the buttons of her blouse it was a further twenty minutes before she removed her blouse and bra; almost five more minutes before his large hands finally clasped her breasts and only a few minutes before they finished was he given a nipple to take into his mouth. Conscious that finding a taxi after midnight could be difficult, she controlled his final, jerking movement to coincide, almost, with her own. So, in the end it was a relief for her to know that Luke was just like any other man: easily seduced by a woman's body and giving his last shot before she had barely started. Luke fell back into a kind of semi-comatose state, not wholly sure what had just happened. He had fucked a few women, not a large number, but had never been fucked. Now, Sobia had fucked him and for some to come he would no longer be a free man. Now, Phillip and Sobia were clever people but not always as clever as they thought. Sobia tolerated Isabel, as Phillip was now having to tolerate Luke but in either case they would have preferred not to have to make the effort; the effort was a sore or a fault line that underlay their lives. Phillip set a terrible challenge to that effort when some time ago he introduced Isabel to the house, then allowed her to stay the night and eventually to share his bed. Of course, it is always difficult for a child to accept a new adult into the intimacy of their own home but in the long run it is something they sometimes have put up with. So it was that Sobia was packed off to bed on her own when Isabel came to stay, the young woman only being allowed to emerge once Isabel had gone. Occasionally, but not often, and only if Sobia had been good, she was rewarded with spending the night with Phillip and Isabel would sleep alone. But, the fault line widened and despite Sobia's recent explanation for her interest in the 'schoolboy', Phillip was feeling the strain'; or rather, feeling his age. As the pressure on their relationship grew they only had one solution: more of the same. When the addict discovers the usual fix is not working the solution usually is not to kick the habit but resort to even bigger, more deadly doses. On the night Sobia fucked Luke she had been given until one o'clock before she had to be home because Isabel was staying and Phillip was far more lenient with her when this happened. She opened the outside door as quietly as possible and crept along to the main room in the dark. Suddenly a voice terrified her. "You've decided to come home then." It was Phillip lying flat out on the sofa and so concealed from the doorway. "What are you doing here?" She gasped. "Where is Isabel, I thought she was coming?" He stood up and put on the light and she saw a sickening expression of anger and loathing on his face. He looked old. "She couldn't make it, which you would have known if you had read any of the countless texts I sent you!" He was scaring her now. "I'm sorry, I didn't check them." "No! Too busy having your cunt stuffed with the schoolboy's cock, no doubt." "Phillip, please don't talk to me like that." "Well, were you?" "What?" "You heard what I said. Was I right? Well go on, lie!" She looked at him carefully for a few seconds but knew only the truth would count. She replied quietly. "Yes, yes, you are right, that is exactly what I was doing." It was the quiet way she spoke that disarmed him. She spoke again before he had time to reply and with great control but the control was becoming painful to sustain and a gradual shrillness started to infect her voice. "Phillip, why is this happening? From the start these things happened, we agreed on that but for some reason things have altered. We have always been above jealousy. I mean, think of me. Sometimes you kick me out of bed to accommodate another woman! Do you realise that? I lie in bed, on my own, and just a short distance down the corridor you're fucking another woman." She paused momentarily but when she resumed her voice was suffused with accusation. "Did you know that sometimes I can actually hear you?" He did not reply. He turned around and with his back to her said, "Go to your room, you're grounded for two days." "Why? Tell me one thing I have done wrong. Have I disobeyed you?" He did not move nor answer her question. "Go to your room. By rights I should tan your backside until it's raw." Then she asked him and risked throwing into the daylight what they had never before discussed from the moment they first came together. He was not prepared for the question and when it came he could not answer it. "What right have you got to do this to me?" He turned to face her and pressed his face into hers. He uttered a single word; uttered with indignant incredulity. "Right? Right? You want right?" The moment the word slipped from her lips she knew she had made a terrible mistake. He had been reeling, had seemed vulnerable until she had invoked 'right.' "Well, you want 'right' or not?" It was not necessary to repeat the question, she heard and knew exactly what it was and what it meant. He stared at her awaiting her reply but she could not meet his gaze and dropped her head in a gesture of complete abnegation. Her reply when it came was almost a whimper. "No." "Good. You know you have come very close to a thrashing, don't you?" Again she nodded. "Give me your phone. Tomorrow I will call your office and tell them you are ill. Do you have important meetings tomorrow?" "Yes, I'm chairing both of them." "They will find someone else. Go to your room. You can come out for meals only. Do you understand?" "Yes." "Go." She went. Sobia duly served her punishment. She remained in her room for two days, emerging only for breakfast, lunch and dinner each day. During the period of her confinement she and Phillip did not exchange a single word. On the day her punishment ended a note had been pushed underneath her bedroom door. It read, simply: You're free. Isabel is here. See you tonight. Take care. Phillip. Sobia made some coffee. She was cold and the television was reminding her that this was one of the coldest Januarys for a long time. Shivering still, she made her way to Phillip's bedroom to see if Isabel was awake, which she was. "Sobia, come in, how lovely to see you." Sobia was equally pleased to see her despite some of the unkind things she sometimes said about her to Phillip. Isabel spoke first. "Are you all right? He was very harsh. I'm beginning to worry about him." "Yes, so am I." "He was going to cane you last night, did you know that?" "I'm not surprised. I knew he was very angry." "Has he caned you before?" "Yes, twice." They had never before discussed Phillip or their respective relationships with him so they were hesitant about developing this discussion. "Darling you look cold," Isabel said. She then threw open the covers of the bed and said, "Come on, get in here with me." Sobia removed her dressing gown to reveal she was wearing nothing underneath. "No wonder you're cold, you're not wearing anything!" "I never feel comfortable wearing anything in bed." Sobia chuckled and got in, pulling the covers up to her chin. Isabel propped herself up on her elbow and scrutinised Sobia's face. "You look tired, as well as cold," she told her. "I know. I look terrible." "I doubt if you could ever look terrible, even if you tried." As she said this she brushed some loose strands of hair from Sobia's face. This kind gesture touched Sobia and she smiled affectionately in reply. "May I ask you something, Sobia, something we've never spoken of before but please tell me to mind my own business, if that's what you feel?" Isabel spoke carefully but tenderly. "You have a very unusual relationship with Phillip, so do I, I know but in the end he pays me so I'm just a whore really and although all my clients are rich men and I earn my money in expensive houses and smart hotels it doesn't make me less of a whore, does it?" They had never had a conversation like this. Isabel continued. "But you're not a whore, darling, so why has this happened. Tell me to fuck off if you want." Sobia's smile told her that she was comfortable with the conversation. "It's simple -- he knows who I am and no-one else does. It really is that simple. I have to be with him for that reason alone. That's it." It was a complex answer which Isabel did not understand but she decided not to pursue it. Instead she bent down and kissed her on the lips followed by a smile that simply said: 'I don't understand but I won't pursue it,' and kissed her again. Suddenly Sobia felt relaxed and realised how rare this was and also, how grateful she was for Isabel's kindness. She thrust her arms from under the covers and threw them around Isabel in a huge hug and the two women lay, arms around each other, under the warm covers. Separately, and without confessing it, both felt a kind of peace that was, for both of them, rare. "Isabel, I have to go, I haven't been to work for two days." "Aren't you happy here, with me?" "Yes, too happy for my own good, I think. But I have to go, I feel a wreck." At this Isabel pulled the covers down as far as Sobia's naked waist and gazed at her body and without lifting her eyes said, "Well, if you're a wreck that doesn't hold up much hope for me, or the rest of the women in the world." "You're an attractive woman, Isabel, you must know that," Sobia replied with sincerity. "Well, I am now at the age where I have the kind of looks that gets by with the right clothes and makeup etcetera but strip that away and things aren't so good, I can promise you. But look at you." Isabel placed her hand on Sobia's belly and gently pressed her fingers into various parts of it as a doctor might do searching for a vulnerable spot. "You see," she concluded, "beautifully firm everywhere." Then adding softly and with great affection, "take care of it, it won't last forever." Sobia closed her eyes; moments like this, moments without struggle when there are no winners or losers, when there was no pain, were rare in her life, so she allowed herself, for now, to surrender to it. Isabel gently put the tip of her finger at the lowest point of Sobia's neck and then slowly and still very gently, drew the finger down her body in a perfectly straight line: down her chest, between her breasts, all the way down to her belly, stopping just where her bush started. Then she followed the same route upwards, only the very tip of her finger touching Sobia's flesh. She did this continually for about five minutes. Sobia quietly murmured, "I must go, Isabel, I must." At this moment Isabel's finger was just above Sobia's belly button, on its way upwards but this time it veered from the straight line, over to her left breast and across the nipple. The surprise and pleasure this caused the young woman prompted a small sigh. Quickly the finger moves upwards slightly, across the chest and on to the other nipple, resulting in the same heart felt, appreciative sigh. Isabel opened the palm of her hand as wide as possible and placed it over Sobia's left nipple and rubbed it gently; the same with the other one. Once it both nipples were fully erect she bent down and softly kissed each one. "Now you may go." Suddenly they heard a noise from inside the house and they both sat up, fear written on their faces. "What was that?" Isabel cried. Before either could answer Phillip entered the bedroom, saw the two women in bed together, Isabel in her night clothes and Sobia naked as far as he could see. He froze in the doorway. The women, in turn, saw framed in the doorway an ugly symbol of bullying masculinity. "Well, well, well. What have we here? I should have known a couple of dirty whores desperate for a fuck from anyone and everyone." "Phillip!" Isabel tried to intercede but she was cut down. Sobia was resigned to what ever circumstances would hand her and lay back in the bed. Phillip reached inside his pocket, removed his wallet and took out a wad of notes and threw them at Isabel. "Now get out and never, ever come in my sight again." She fled. Sobia showed extraordinary calm. She stared at him without expression: it was impossible to know what she was thinking or feeling. "As for you," the depth of his anger strangely quietening him down, "I haven't got time now but I will later on, don't worry." He left. Soon after she heard Isabel leave. Sobia wanted to speak to her but what could she say? 'Thank you for one of the rare, quiet moments in my life?' But that would only be a half truth, she knew, because you cannot have 'quiet' and the 'edge' in the same life. She went to work, conscious of a gathering crisis. She worked robotically, partly there, partly not. At two minutes past four she was walking down a long corridor to another meeting. Behind her she heard a voice calling her. "Not now, Monica, I'm on my way to a meeting, I told you that." "It's the hospital. It's Phillip." Minutes later she was in a taxi on her way there. When she arrived she was shown immediately to the Resuscitation Unit and everything that unfolded from that moment she now saw. A middle aged doctor, who herself looked stressed and tired, took her to a small ante-room and explained that Phillip had suffered a massive heart attack. "Has he any chance?" Sobia asked, as though some kind of protocol demanded it. "I'm afraid not. I'm so sorry." Sobia was shown into a room at the centre of which was a huge contraption with a thousand and one wires and tubes feeding into bleeping machines. Connected at the centre of it all was Phillip. Whether at this precise moment he was alive or dead seemed shockingly irrelevant. For the next hour nurses and doctors came and went at intervals and glanced briefly at the bleeping machines. Then a young nurse came in, took only the briefest glance and left, almost immediately returning with the doctor Sobia had met when she first arrived. She too made a few brief readings and then came over to Sobia who remained seated and looked up at the doctor like hopeful child. "Is he dead?" The doctor put a hand on Sobia's shoulder. "I'm afraid so. More people die in a winter January than any other month, it seems. This January was one of the coldest for many years and the death toll was higher than ever: it was nine days before Phillip's funeral could take place. It took place in a crematorium on the edge of the city that nestled in one of the many hills that surrounded it. The temperature had not risen above freezing for days. The mourners emerged from their expensive cars and hurried quickly into the chapel. It was three thirty and already getting dark. Somewhere amidst all this was Sobia. Thirty minutes later when the mourners emerged the light was just holding up but it was beginning to snow once more. Obsequies were cut short; they who attended the dead scurried back to their cars, their offices, their centrally heated, insulated houses. Sammie, Sobia's father, was shivering with cold as he approached his daughter to usher her into the waiting car. "No, father, I need some time to myself, I'm going for a walk." "What, in this, you'll catch your death!" "I'll be all right, don't worry." She kissed him then left. When the last of the cars had gone she began the long trudge up the hill. It was snowing hard. More than once she slipped and crashed her knees on the frozen ground. Finally she stood at the summit of the hill and gazed down at the vast city, only just visible amidst the gathering gloom and the falling snow. Now, alone almost for the first time since Phillip's death, she began to cry. What did that city hold for her now? How dare he leave me to face this emptiness. She was already sick of listening to people telling her she was young and talented and beautiful but who it that great metropolis under the snow and the dark would be equal to Phillip? Where in the world of men and money and beauty and youth would be that 'edge' that would make life worth living? The 'edge' that was true freedom. The 'edge' that was Phillip. Who I Am When the dark and the snow finally enveloped the city she trudged down the hill to embrace its anonymity and its hopelessness.