Rita slowly inched her head to the edge of the curtain, so she could peer around it to see if he was home yet. No matter how carefully she moved her head, her heart was in her mouth as she contemplated the thought that he might be just outside, and would catch her in the act of spying. She held her breath, as though that would be sufficient to render her invisible. Tingles ran up and down her spine, the only excitement in her life for a long, long time.
Her left eye reached the edge of the curtain, where his front door became visible to her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn’t arrived home yet, but a mere three seconds later she spotted his tall, lean figure walking along the road, and about to turn towards his front door. She rapidly drew her head back behind the curtain. Five, four, three, two, one; she counted the seconds, and on zero she again looked around the curtain. She knew exactly how many seconds it took for him to walk from the point where she could first spot his arrival, and the moment when he would put the key into the lock on his front door, before disappearing from sight. At that point his attention would be taken with gaining entrance to his home, and he would not notice her looking at him; at his broad, masculine shoulders, his physique, probably honed by trips to the local gym, and the perfect profile of his face, like a Greek god she thought.
But tonight something had gone wrong. She had miscalculated. He was not putting his key into the door but was bending down to pick up a pen that must have dropped from his pocket while retrieving his keys. At the very second that her face appeared from behind the curtain, his body unbent and he stood up, the pen in his hand, and looked straight at her. For a second she was frozen, unable to move, a startled expression on her face, like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. He smiled, but instead of returning his smile she panicked and stood back swiftly so that he could no longer see her. Her heart was pounding and she felt slightly faint. She had been caught in the act, and a wave of humiliation flooded over her.
She had been afraid that this would happen since the beginning. It had been two months now since he had moved into the house next door; two months of secret spying and this was the moment she had been dreading. So long as he had been unaware of her she had felt she could look at him longingly from a distance, safe in the knowledge that she was invisible to him. She did not know what to do. Now that he was aware of her he might look at her window deliberately, and her invisibility was gone. Her fantasy about him was over. She was bereft.
Unknown to Rita, however, Sebastian Grainger had been completely aware of the woman next door, who liked to peek through her window at him. It amused him and after a while he became accustomed to her peeping around the curtains. It became a little game with him; how soon he could spot her face as he walked towards his front gate. He wondered if he ought to knock on her door and introduce himself to her, but thought better of it. He had read about stalking by obsessive people; how it could ruin people’s lives. He decided that he should just ignore his neighbour and hoped that soon she would become bored with her game.
The next morning he set off for work as usual, but there was no one at the window. The curtain did not so much as twitch. It was the same in the evening. Part of him was sad that her little game had ended. He wondered what she did all day. She did not appear to go out to work, or even to shop; the local supermarket delivered her groceries. Perhaps she was agoraphobic? He hoped that nothing had happened to her.
For the next three days there was no sign of the woman, and he began to worry a little. She never seemed to have any visitors, so he was unaware whether she had family. Finally, on the evening of the third day he decided to knock on the door. He knocked twice, but there was no response. Perhaps he should call the police, in case she was lying injured on the floor? He was on the point of turning away, to return to his home, when the door opened just a couple of inches. He saw a pale face and a pair of blue eyes, peering through the gap.
“Sorry, I didn’t want to intrude, but I hadn’t seen you for a few days, and I wondered if you were all right.”
The woman looked at him, but did not reply. She merely blinked a couple of times and he wondered if she was deaf. Perhaps he should try writing a few words on a piece of paper. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a pen and his diary, from which he tore out a page. As he began to write, the woman opened the door a little wider and reached her arm out towards his hand and spoke in such a quiet voice that he almost missed it.
“It’s okay. I heard you. I was just…surprised.”
He looked up from the note that he had begun scribbling and smiled at her. Up close he could see that she was not as old as he had at first thought. From a distance and judging her by her old-fashioned hairstyle and her rather dowdy clothes, he had thought her about fifty. But he now judged her to be around forty, a similar age to himself. She had beautifully smooth, unlined skin, because, he guessed, she rarely went out into the sunshine. Her hair was light brown and she wore it scraped back into a bun. She was dressed quite conservatively in a dark blue mid-calf skirt, a cream blouse and a drab grey cardigan, which did absolutely nothing for her appearance. It was almost as though she was trying to look as unattractive as possible, trying to look drab and insignificant.
He began speaking again, in as quiet and unthreatening a manner as possible, in order not to startle her too much.
“It’s all right you looking at me you know. I’m not angry or anything. I used to look forward to seeing your face each morning and evening. There’s no need to stop if it is something you enjoy.”
“I thought…you might be angry.”
Again her voice was not much more than a whisper, and she was reluctant to look him in the eye.
“No, of course I'm not angry. You look as often as you want.”
With a smile he walked back for his own front door, turning just before he disappeared.
“My name is Sebastian, by the way. What’s yours?”
“Rita”, she stuttered out. Then he was gone.
Next morning he turned towards her window as he locked his front door, and there she was. He smiled and lifted his hand, and was pleased to see her lift hers a few inches in response. The same thing happened in the evening. The moment he turned for his front door, there she was, her arm fully raised in greeting this time. And so it went on, each morning and evening, until one night he did not return at his usual time. There had been a problem at work and he had been forced to stay and sort it out. It was nine pm before he returned home, tired and a little stressed. He looked forward to a glass of whisky and a microwave dinner he had picked up on the way back. Then he would kick off his shoes and watch the football on TV. Given the lateness of his return, he was not surprised, that Rita was absent from her window. He opened the door, switched on the light, and breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him.
Next door, Rita was sitting in the dark in her sitting room. She supposed she ought to turn on the light, but she liked sitting in the dark, dreaming about things. Well, about HIM, actually. Tonight she was worried that he hadn’t come home as usual. She had gone to the window every ten minutes, looking to see if there was any sign of him, but his house still showed no lights. At eight thirty she decided not to look again for another hour. Just because he hadn’t come, it didn’t mean that something had happened to him. Perhaps he was meeting friends?
At nine thirty she walked to the window and opened the curtain slightly. Thank goodness, he was home. She could see the light coming from the small window above his front door, and the kitchen light was showing in the small gap below the blind, which he normally kept closed. As she stood, another light came on upstairs. She had never dared peek from the upstairs window before, but she realised that it was directly opposite her spare bedroom. Could she…? No, she had best not go peeking up there. He might become angry.
She agonized over what to do for several minutes, before making a decision. If she was careful he would never know. She crept upstairs in the dark, not needing the landing light because of the years of familiarity with the layout of the house. She cautiously pushed open the door and slid inside, closing it again after her.
The room opposite was emblazoned with light, and the curtains were fully open. He clearly thought that his privacy was secure. It must be his bedroom, she decided, as his work clothes were strewn across the double bed that sat in the centre of the room. Rita sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, which came right up to the window. She was trembling with nerves, but she was not sure why. The next moment she knew why. He came into the bedroom, having obviously had a shower, with just a towel wrapped around his waist. She sucked in air deeply, trying to get a grip on her emotions. There was the object of her obsession, in almost full view. His shoulders were broad, but then narrowed to a slim waist, and he had just a smattering of dark hairs on his chest. The hair on his head was slicked back with water from the shower, and a few drops remained on his chest, reflecting the light from above, that made them sparkle like gemstones. She thought he was the most handsome man she had ever seen, but then, she surmised, he was the only man she had seen like this. Not even her father, all those years ago when she was a child, ever came into a room wearing just a towel, and she had no brothers.
Before she had time to reflect on her past life any further, Sebastian dropped the towel from around his waist, and there he was in all his glory. Rita felt hot and tiny beads of perspiration appeared on her forehead. Her brain was just a confused tangle of thoughts and emotions, which were so jumbled up that nothing made sense, and she almost forgot to breathe. She stood up and caught a china ornament of a shepherdess, which had once been her mother’s, and it flew off the window ledge and crashed to the floor, smashing into little pieces. The sound must have alerted him, for he paused, in the process of putting on his underpants. He pulled them up over his hips, and then walked over to his window and peered out. Rita froze on the spot, petrified that she might be discovered. Her breathing was coming in short pants, and she had begun to shake. What on earth had possessed her to spy on him like this?
In the house opposite, Sebastian looked from his window to the one opposite. Even though it was in darkness, he knew she was there. He sensed her presence, but made no indication of that, and merely turned back to where his clothes lay, putting on a t-shirt and track pants. He needed to have words with Rita, and there was no time like the present. He slipped his feet into the moccasins that he normally wore around the house, and fetched a light sweater from a nearby drawer. Then, without looking towards the house opposite he switched off the light and went downstairs.
Two minutes later he rapped on Rita’s front door. He wasn’t sure that she would answer, but after he knocked again the door slowly opened, and Rita’s face came into view, pale and solemn. There was no welcoming smile, which told him that she knew why he was here.
“I would like to talk to you Rita. May I come inside?”
She stepped back and allowed him into the hallway. He noticed immediately the threadbare carpet, the décor, which had not been updated for many, many years, and the dim lighting – he guessed just a forty-watt bulb in the one light fitting.
“Do you know why I am here?”
She looked down at her feet and mumbled something, which Sebastian did not catch.
“A simple yes or no to that question would suffice for now,” he said, sternly.
Rita replied with a very quiet “Yes.”
“I think that you and I need to have a conversation, so perhaps we should go into your living room.”
She turned and, head still lowered, whether with embarrassment or shame he wasn’t sure, led the way into the room, switching on the light as she entered. Sebastian looked around with astonishment. It was as though he had stepped back in time, probably sixty years or more. Everything was clean and tidy, but there was not a trace of the second half of the twentieth century, let alone the twenty-first. The furniture was dark and heavy, and the upholstery on the chairs was quite worn, but what struck him most about the room was the number of books; hundreds of them, mostly in bookcases, but some just in piles on the floor.
Rita sat down first, and indicated for Sebastian to sit on the nearby sofa. She clasped her hands together in her lap, head down, as though she was waiting for a sentence in a court of law, and she looked afraid. Sebastian had intended to speak quite sternly to her, but could not bring himself to be harsh now that he was in front of her. He spoke quite gently, so as not to terrify her.
“You were watching me from your upstairs window, weren’t you, Rita?”
She nodded her head.
“Sorry you were doing it, or sorry I found out?”
She paused for a moment, giving his question some thought, before murmuring “Both”.
“You do know that it is wrong to spy on people like that, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper.
Sebastian wondered briefly whether he ought to tell Rita that, if she had been one of his subs, she wouldn’t be able to sit for a while after his hand had come into contact with her bottom, but he doubted whether she had any idea what a Dominant/submissive relationship was. In fact he wouldn’t be surprised if Rita was a total innocent on the subject of sex in general, let alone the more specialised sort that he enjoyed.
He sat back on the sofa and scrutinised the woman in front of him. Now that he had the opportunity to look at her more closely, he realised, to his surprise, that Rita was not an unattractive woman, if he looked beyond the drab clothes and the unflattering hairstyle. He wondered why she lived the way she did. Whether something had happened to make her cut herself off from the rest of the world, or whether she had psychological problems or an abusive childhood, she clearly did not live what most people would call a normal existence.
“Take down your hair.”
She looked up, a little startled, and began to stammer. “I don’t…what…”
“I would like to see you with your hair loose. I’m sure it would suit you much better.”
To his surprise, she obeyed him, reaching up her hands and loosening the bun on the nape of her neck and shaking her hair free. He couldn’t believe what an improvement it was.
“I thought so. It looks so much better.”
Even with the dim light of the room he could see that she was blushing.
“Has no one ever told you that you are pretty?”
He could tell from her expression that his statement had been met with total disbelief.
“How long have you lived here, alone like this?”
“I’ve lived here all my life, first with my parents, and then just my father, after my mother died. My father died about fifteen years ago.”
“So you have been alone here for fifteen years?” She nodded.
“You don’t mind me asking you these things, do you?”
“No, it’s just that I’m not used to talking much.”
“Have you ever had a job? You know, gone out to work?”
She shook her head. “Father wouldn’t allow me to work. He said it wasn’t safe out there for a young girl.”
Sebastian fought back his anger that a man would keep his daughter a virtual prisoner from the world like this.
“What about when you were young. Did you go to school?”
“No, my father taught me himself. These are all his books.” She swept her hand around the room at the hundreds of books.
“So you have never had any friends, I take it?” She shook her head, but didn’t speak, and Sebastian shook his own head in disbelief.
“What do you do all day?” he continued. “Do you go out at all?”
“I go to the library once a week, and I went to the dentist a few weeks ago.”
“Don’t you feel lonely? Is that why you began spying on me?”
He looked at Rita’s face, and noticed a tear had sprung to her eye. Perhaps he was interrogating her a little too much. He smiled, and held out his hand, and to his surprise, she stretched out hers and made contact with his. He curled his fingers around her hand and held it. She seemed almost overwhelmed and he tried to reassure her by stroking the back of her hand and murmuring quietly, telling her not to be afraid; he wasn’t upset by her spying on him.
“I haven’t eaten yet, and I’m very hungry. Would you like to come back to my house and we could talk while I eat my supper?”
There was a pause. Rita clearly was not sure what to do, so he tried to reassure her.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. We can sit in the kitchen and I can open a bottle of wine if you like. You can come home any time you want to.”
She nodded her head in agreement, although the expression on her face would have led someone to believe that she was going to her own execution. Sebastian stood and held out his hand.
“Come.” She grasped his hand and followed obediently.
As she entered Sebastian’s home, Rita felt as though she was entering another world. The rooms were brightly lit, with modern, chic furniture and décor. Not that Rita had any idea what did or did not constitute chic. All she knew was that it was completely different to her own home, and she felt a little like a fish out of water. It was her first visit to someone else’s house since she was a teenager and had paid the occasional visit, with her parents, to her Granny’s house. But Granny’s house looked very similar to her own house, so did not intimidate her in the way that this one did. She followed Sebastian into the kitchen.
“Do you drink wine?” he asked.
“Would you like to try some?”
She smiled, a little timidly. Father had warned her repeatedly of the perils of drinking alcohol, but perhaps just one little drink?
Sebastian poured her half a glass of red wine, and she picked it up a little anxiously and brought it to her mouth, before returning it to the kitchen worktop.
“I’m sorry, I’m a little nervous. My father told me…”
She didn’t complete her sentence, but Sebastian seemed to understand.
“It’s alright, if you really don’t want it.”
But Rita seemed determined to try and picked the glass up once again. This time, when it reached her lips, her face tipped backwards and a few sips passed her lips. She screwed up her face a little at the unexpected taste, and Sebastian laughed. That seemed to make Rita want to drink some more, to show him that she was not a complete fool. She wasn’t sure whether the drink was a form of punishment for her spying, or whether Sebastian was genuine in wanting her to enjoy a drink with him. She swallowed a little more of the wine, and this time it did not taste quite so strange. Perhaps she could come to like it after all.
While Rita was sampling her very first alcoholic drink, Sebastian was heating his microwave supper.
“You’ve eaten, I take it?”
She nodded at him. “Yes, I ate a couple of hours ago.”
“Take a seat over there, with your wine, and I will join you; so long as you don’t mind me eating?”
Rita picked up her wine and moved to the breakfast bar. She sat on one side, while Sebastian sat opposite her, with his shepherd’s pie. By the time he had taken his seat, she was already halfway through the wine, and liking it more with each sip. It was making her feel much more relaxed in what had been a very tense situation. For the first time she felt bold enough to be able to initiate the conversation.
“I’m sorry for spying on you.”
Her voice was very quiet, and Sebastian had to lean towards her to hear what she was saying. He put his fork down on his plate.
“I’m glad to hear that, Rita. It’s not the sort of behaviour that I would expect from you, and I hope that you won’t do it again.”
She looked down, too embarrassed to look him in the face, and her cheeks became pink with shame. She shook her head.
Across the kitchen bar, Sebastian felt a twitching of his cock, as he looked at the submissive woman before him. He had been tempted to suggest that he should put her over his knee and spank her, which is what he would have done if one of his subs had behaved badly. However, in view of her very sheltered life and sexual inexperience, he decided that a suggestion like that could prove a complete shock to her system, and backfire spectacularly. Consent was very important to him, and he doubted that Rita was in the best state right now to give consent to any behaviour of that nature.
There was something, though, about this timid and innocent woman that appealed to his sexual tastes. Her shy, hesitant nature held a certain allure for him, and he wondered if he might consider encouraging Rita to explore a world that she was probably completely unaware existed.
He noticed that, as the level of wine went down in the glass, her eyes gained a certain sparkle, and her face looked a little flushed. Now she had taken down her hair he concluded that she looked much more attractive. He just wished that he could see what she was like under the dull, shapeless clothes she was wearing. Suddenly, without warning, he shocked even himself.
“Are you a virgin, Rita?”
She gasped and her face began to colour red.
Those were the only words coming from her mouth. Sebastian couldn’t help himself, now that he had started the discussion.
“Have you ever had sex with a man or a woman?”
There was a pregnant pause; before she whispered so softly he could barely hear.
“No, I’ve never…”
“You’ve never had sex, is that what you are saying?”
She nodded her head and seemed unable to look him in the eye.
“Do you think about it?”
She nodded. “Sometimes.”
“When you are in bed, Rita? Is that when you think about it?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Sebastian pressed on mercilessly. He wanted to break through the years of repression this woman had clearly suffered; years that had removed her from the mainstream of society and condemned her to her silent, lonely existence. An existence where spying on him had been her only outlet for any erotic thoughts.
“And when you fantasize, who is in those fantasies with you, Rita?”
She didn’t answer, so he tried again, speaking gently.
“Do your fantasies include me?”
“Yes,” she whispered, a look of shame clouding her face.
Sebastian held out one of his hands towards her, and took her hand into his. She did not resist or pull away.
“It’s all right. You don’t need to feel any shame. We all have fantasies, but sometimes we need to live in the real world, where we can try and make those fantasies come to fruition. You have been so cut off from the world, haven’t you?”
He pulled her gently towards him and put his arms around her. She was trembling, as he held her close to him and stroked her hair to soothe her.
“Shhh, it’s okay. Just let me hug you. I think you have been starved of hugs, haven’t you Rita?”
He looked down at her face, into her eyes which were full of unshed tears, and saw the pain in her face; the pain of loneliness, the ache in her body for human connection. In trying to protect his daughter from the world, her father had condemned her to a life that was sterile and empty; stripped of all human emotions of love and kindness, and, yes, sex, that most basic emotion of all. For a moment he hated a man he had never met.
They stood silently for a while, his arms wrapped around her, soothing her, comforting her, until she ceased trembling and looked up at him.
“My mother once hugged me, when I was about eight and frightened of the dark, but no one else…until now.”
“Do you like me hugging you? I don’t make you feel uncomfortable, do I?”
“No, no, I like it. I feel…safe.”
“Is that all you feel?”
“No, I feel…”
She stopped, seemingly unable to find the words she was seeking.
“What do you feel, Rita?”
“I feel all tingly inside.” She looked up shyly. “I feel…different.”
“That’s because your body is responding to me holding you. That’s what bodies do when they are being held or touched by someone else. There is nothing to fear. It is quite normal and natural.”
She seemed to relax into him as he was speaking, but Sebastian was feeling less than relaxed. In fact, the presence of this woman currently in his arms was making him feel decidedly aroused. Would it be taking advantage of this naïve and inexperienced woman if he…? He squashed that thought quickly, and hoped that Rita couldn’t feel the evidence of his arousal pressed against her. In fact, it was probably better if they disengaged about now.
He pushed her away, gently, and sat down on the other side of the breakfast bar so that Rita would not see the tenting in his trousers. She sat down on the other kitchen stool, and took another sip of wine. The wine and their conversation had made her bolder, and she began to talk.
“I watched you come home and go to work each day because it made me feel that I knew you, and that you had become my friend. I was very careful that you should not see me, but then you dropped the pen…”
“But actually, Rita, I had become aware of you a long time before. But I thought your watching me was harmless, and if you enjoyed it, then I was happy. Do you have no friends at all?”
“Only in the books.”
“You mean the ones in your house?”
“Yes. I know them all so well, I feel as though they are almost my family. When I read their stories I can picture what they look like. I expect you think I’m silly?”
“Not at all. A lot of people fall a little in love with people who only exist in books. I suspect many of the authors of the books do too. Who is your favourite character?”
Rita coloured up a little and looked down at the floor, her voice becoming quieter. “Heathcliff.”
“Oh yes, Wuthering Heights. He’s quite a powerful character, isn't he? I’m sure a lot of people have been attracted to him. Do you imagine yourself as Catherine?”
“Do you think I would make a good Heathcliff?”
Rita looked a little confused, and he realised he might have made her feel uncomfortable, so he left the question hanging in the air, and they lapsed into silence for a few moments, each sipping on their glasses of wine, until Rita was the first to break the silence.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
Sebastian looked a little startled at the unexpected question. Should he come clean about his lifestyle? He doubted that Rita had even heard of BDSM.
“Not as such. There are a couple of women that I…see.” He decided to leave it at that for now.
“Do you have sex with them?”
He looked up in surprise at her unexpected directness, and decided to be honest with her.
“Yes, I do, usually. But I also do other things.”
“What things?” She seemed genuinely curious, and he didn’t think she was being prurient. Hell, he didn’t even care if she was. He lived a lifestyle where frank discussions about sex and spanking and all sorts of other sexual practices were quite normal, but he had always been reluctant to discuss the subject with people outside the circle. However, looking at Rita’s openly interested face made him decide to share.
“There are some people who enjoy doing things with like-minded people, such as spanking and bondage – that means tying people up,” he added, unsure if she would know the term. He looked at Rita to see if her face revealed evidence of shock or revulsion, but he did not see such signs, so continued.
“I belong to a special club, where people like me and my friends go to meet people who enjoy the same things. Some people like to be spanked, and others like to do the spanking. The club gives us a safe place to behave like this, without being judged by other people. Do you understand this?”
She nodded her head solemnly, and he could tell that her brain was trying to process the information she had been given.
“Do you like to spank people, or do you like to be spanked?”
“I like to be the one doing the spanking. I’m what is known as a Dominant. The women I play with are known as submissives.”
“Do you force them to do this?”
“No, not at all. The women choose to be submissive. I would never force someone. It is entirely consensual.”
Rita seemed fascinated by the subject, and continued to question him.
“Are all the Dominants male?”
“No, there are female Dominants too. And the submissives are sometimes the opposite sex, and sometimes the same sex.”
He looked at her very closely, to see how she was reacting to the conversation. She did not look shocked, but merely very interested, but he did notice that her breathing was a little faster than normal, and her cheeks had a distinct pinkness to them. She was quiet for a while, as though she was mulling something over. Her next question was completely unexpected, like a bolt from the blue.
“Will you kiss me, Sebastian? I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
He did not move for a moment, his brain firing questions at him. Is it wise to get involved with her to this extent? Will he come to regret it? What would be the consequence of kissing her? There was no doubt, from the reaction in his groin a few moments ago, that he was sexually attracted to her. But was he risking hurting this naïve and inexperienced woman? On the other hand, perhaps it would make a difference in her life, and encourage her to escape her self-imposed purdah. He wasn’t so arrogant as some men to think that all she needed was a good fuck, and that would change everything for her. It might even change things for the worse. Who was he to attempt to put right a lifetime of pain and isolation? Perhaps she needed a psychologist more than his attention?
Having mulled all these thoughts around his brain for just a second or two, he realised that he needed to make a decision quickly, for she was already walking around the breakfast bar towards him. He ceased thinking and went with instinct, and stood up to meet her. When they were inches apart, he bent his head slightly to meet hers, and took hold of her shoulders in a gentle embrace, then kissed her softly on the lips. Rita pulled her face away for just a moment, and gasped a little, as though she had just realised the enormity of her action. Then she returned her lips to his and they resumed kissing. Her lips were full and soft, and he could taste the wine. He could almost taste the longing that came with the kiss, and there was no doubt that his body was reacting to the close proximity of this woman. Should he take it further?
Rita thought that kissing Sebastian was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her. Her mind was swirling with strange thoughts, and her body was tingling all over, and especially in that secret place between her legs. She had a strange yearning, but she did not know for what. She knew that Sebastian was struggling with himself over her. Perhaps she should make his decision easier? Perhaps she should tell him that she wanted him to do things to her, things that he had described doing at his club. But could she put her yearnings into words? She decided to try.
“Sebastian… I was bad when I peeped into your bedroom. I think…I think…perhaps you should sp…spank me.”
She cast her eyes down to the ground, from embarrassment, and so did not see the reaction on his face, a mixture of pleasure and doubt.
There was a deathly silence, and Rita finally lifted her eyes and saw him struggling with the doubt. Perhaps he did not find her attractive enough to do these things with her? Perhaps he felt revulsion at her suggestion? A tear ran down her cheek as her angst was reflected in her face. Perhaps it was this tear that made up his mind for him, for he reached out his hand and gently wiped it from her cheek.
“Are you really sure that this is what you want? You’re not doing it just to please me, are you?”
Rita was uncertain whether to nod or to shake her head, as the questions required two different responses from her, so instead she spoke.
“I want to, Sebastian. I am forty-one, and I have never really lived. I’ve always been too frightened to face the world. It is as though I have been sleeping for all this time, and you have woken me up. Please will you spank me and have sex with me. I need to know what it is all about.”
Sebastian nodded, and his mood changed slightly as his Dom persona took over. He spoke quietly, but firmly.
“Take off your clothes, Rita. I am sure you have a beautiful body under those drab garments, and I want to see it.”
He left her standing there and moved backwards to sit back on to the breakfast barstool. She did not respond at first, but just stood twisting her fingers through the fabric of her voluminous skirt. He decided that a little ‘help’ was required.
“I’m waiting, Rita. I think I gave you an explicit instruction, did I not?”
Slowly, very slowly, she began to unbutton her grey cardigan, before removing it. Then she steeled herself to unzip her skirt, before dropping it to the floor. She could not look up at him, for fear of what she might see on his face. She began to unbutton her blouse, and soon that joined the pile of clothes on the floor. She was now only wearing her bra and panties, simple, white, cotton, serviceable garments that she had bought on a market stall some years ago. She stopped, unable for the moment, to go further.
“Look at me, Rita. Lift up your eyes and look straight at me.”
She did as he asked and saw an intense look in his eyes that she had not seen before. She knew she could not stop now, and slowly, very slowly, she unfastened her bra and let it fall, crossing her arms over her chest to hide herself. He beckoned her towards him.
“Come here, Rita. Walk over to me.”
She walked towards him, still clutching her arms around herself, and stopped a foot away. He reached out and gently took her arms, forcing them down to her side.
“That’s better. Don’t hide your beautiful breasts from me. Now lower those panties for me please Rita.”
She did as he asked, and stepped out of them, her face burning red. He lifted her chin and kissed her gently on the lips.
“You are so brave, and you have a beautiful body, which you have no need to hide.”
He stepped back and ran his eyes over her whole body, taking in the still pert breasts and the curve of her hips.
“Do you still think I should spank you?”
“Yes,” was her whispered and immediate reply.
He took her hand and led her into his living room; sitting down on the sofa and drawing her on to his lap, face down. He ran the palm of his hand down her back and over the rise of her shapely bottom. Who knew that such a lovely body was lurking under those grotesque and dreary clothes. He raised his arm and began to spank her until her bottom was pink, and with each stroke he hardened a little more in anticipation of what lay ahead.
He stopped at ten strokes, wanting to break her in gently, and finished by rubbing and massaging her cheeks. His fingers slipped between her thighs and he felt the moisture, which he had hoped to find.
“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered to her, as he bent and kissed her shoulder, while running his fingers along her slit. Her only reply was to suck in air as his fingers crept inside her, and sought out her clit, which he began to massage. Rita began to moan as his fingers did their work, teasing and dancing on that long-ignored part of her anatomy.
“Oh, oh, oh,” was all she could say, as she had feelings she did not know existed. It was all becoming too intense for her, and deep inside she felt a yearning to climb a mountain and then fly from the peak. She was climbing, climbing…and then she flew. The intensity of her climax made her cry and tears flowed freely down her face and dripped on to the floor beneath. Sebastian flipped her over and gathered her into his arms and hugged her tight.
“Shhh, baby. Don’t cry. I think it all became a little too much for you, didn’t it?”
He kissed her tenderly on her forehead, and then on her lips, and she responded.
“I didn’t know…it was…”
“Yes, it’s pretty fantastic, isn’t it? Welcome to the world, Rita. Do you still want to lose your virginity, or are you happy to end with this?”
His cock was still rock hard, but he was prepared to forgo his release, if that was what she wanted. She looked up at him, a smile wreathing her face, and making her seem quite beautiful.
“I’d like to…if that is all right with you? I want to try it all.”
“And so you shall, my love, so you shall.”
I hope you have enjoyed my story. Please leave a comment below if you feel so inclined, and take a look at some of my other stories, as well as my books.