Gordon sat there for what felt like hours, getting increasingly excited and increasingly frustrated as he watched Mrs Henderson soap herself down and playfully point the shower head all over her body, but spending longer and longer spraying jets of water up between her legs and down the inside of her muscular thighs. She might have been considerably older than he was, and probably thirty pounds too heavy for a woman her height, but it was the most erotic experience he’d ever had.
She didn’t dry herself, just turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around her head and strode towards him. “Do I meet with your expectations then?” she said in tone of voice that nobody would argue with, and most definitely not a man with both hands securely fastened behind his back.
“Expectations?” asked Gordon, his nose now almost level with where the leather belt had been.
“I’ve been told that you find me somewhat alluring, that you’ve had … um… fantasies about me.” He looked up to a see a lightly wrinkled face which was possibly trying very hard not to smile, framed by a pair of breasts which at close quarters sagged lower than he’d thought they did while watching her shower.
Gordon wondered whether she was indulging in some sort of police-related role play, and that he was supposed to be some sort of suspect who’d been informed on, but couldn’t think of any way that he might have inadvertently agreed to it. “Well yes, you are very attractive, but what’s going on here? And when are you going to do something about these handcuffs?”
She stepped closer to him so that his nose was up against her closely-shaven, and very neatly trimmed pubic hair where the scent of soap was mixed with the smell of an obviously excited woman. He didn’t look up, just listened as she explained that they had two alternatives: either call the fire service and get them to cut the cuffs off but then everybody in the area would know that he’d been in her bedroom playing games. That option would be great for her reputation, being able to attract a much younger man and so on, but not so good for his as people would wonder why he couldn’t get a woman his own age, and what kind of pervert was he? Nobody locally would ever forget about it.
Their “other choice” as Donna Hartley described it was to call someone she knew who had a key, and then only the three of them would know anything about the unfortunate situation he was now in. This though would be really embarrassing for her as the third person would undoubtedly assume that Gordon and her had been indulging in some sort of kinky pleasures, “which if they had been sexually active would be worth whatever they’d think of her, but risking my friendship with someone because they were convinced that I’d been having sex with a much younger man when I hadn’t, doesn’t sound very appealing at all.”
She pushed him backwards onto the bed and climbed up to sit on his chest. “I don’t want to take advantage or anything;” she whispered adding “well actually I do as that’s the way I like it, but you know what I mean.” Gordon didn’t know what she meant and didn’t speak. He didn’t know what might happen if he agreed to whatever-it-was that Mrs Henderson was proposing, but he was more aroused than he ever had been before in his life. His trousers felt incredibly tight, his heart was beating so fast that it felt as though it was going to burst from his chest and the sweat on his forehead was beginning to run into his eyes.
“Do you want me to call the fire service?” She whispered, cupping his face in her hands. Gordon started to shake his head. It wasn’t because he was agreeing to anything; it was because he wanted a few more seconds to think, but Donna Henderson interpreted it as confirmation that he’d decided on the second option and slid up his chest so that she was sat on his face. “I’ve been looking forward to this ever since as I was told that you fancied me….” and for the second time that afternoon, a helpless Gordon Lister was immobile on a bed doing something for what seemed to him like hours.