He lay exhausted staring up at the same patch of ceiling he’d looked at earlier as he tried to decide what he wanted to know first about what had happened last night, what was it that Mrs Holberg had wanted to do, and what was the point of the pictures. He felt his left arm moving and glanced over to see that it was being lifted up from the bed and securely fastened to the ornate headboard up above his head and level with where his right arm was held in place.
He was still too exhausted to speak as Lizzie Harris bent down, kissed him on the forehead, and without a word left the room and closed the door behind her leaving Gordon Lister to watch Cassie Holberg silently and slowly remove all her clothing, step up onto the bed, sit down on his chest, grab the wrought ironwork with both hands and pull herself up onto his face.
She’d said nothing, either s she’d undressed or as she’d climbed up on top of him, but he knew what he was supposed to do, so he licked. Slowly at first, and then faster. In and out, up and down, round and round as Cassie Holberg’s many orgasms cascaded down his chin, and the headboard rattled louder than it had before. His neck, chin, lips, jaw and shoulders all ached so much that by the time Mrs Holberg slid off him he couldn’t even think about asking anything, not even when he noticed Lizzie Harris knelt by the side of the bed. She was now dressed in looked like gym wear and he instantly realized that she’d been using the phone she’d received the text on earlier to film him giving Cassie Holberg oral sex.
Gordon lay there unable to move with Cassie Holberg lying by his side as Lizzie Harris reached up, unlocked both sets of handcuffs and dropped them and their keys in her friend’s handbag while he brought his hands together and rubbed both wrists: “Can somebody please tell me what happened last night and what the pictures are for?”
“Well the film I’ve taken is ….shall we say insurance?” said Lizzie Harris grinning, “You wouldn’t want Cassie’s husband to find out what she’d been getting up to while he’s in been in prison now would you? He’s a very jealous man. Violent too. That’s why he’s inside.”
“I don’t follow,” said Gordon, “what use to you is a film of me and your friend?” Lizzie Harris laughed and rubbed Gordon Lister’s cheek: “well as long you agree to keep ….um… doing what we’ve just done, I won’t send it to Cassie’s husband when he gets out. And you really don’t want to risk finding out if I’m bluffing or not.”
“Blackmail?” said Gordon puzzled, “You’re going to use it to blackmail me into having sex with you?” “Only if I have to,” replied Lizzie Harris with a smile, “but we do both agree that you find me attractive, so it’s not going to be too onerous for you now is it?”
“But what about the pictures of you and me that your friend took? Is she going to threaten me with showing them to your daughter or something? Or are they to blackmail you with?”
Cassie Holberg sat up next to Gordon and started to run her fingers through the hairs on his chest: “Lizzie’s daughter? Don’t be silly. She suggested it. Well most of it anyway. Lizzie told her over a glass of wine or two how she quite fancied having some toyboy sex slave and Debbie said she knew someone at work who was just the person. Two weeks later she came back with you, and two pairs of handcuffs in her handbag which must belong to her lesbian lover or something. And I was going home after giving Debbie the stuff she put in the drink you had, but when I saw what you looked like when the three of us dragged you up here and undressed you ….well… at no point have you said that you didn’t want to have sex .. and since we most definitely did…. Win, win all round don’t you think?”
Gordon smiled ruefully: “So why the pictures? I get that Mrs Harris can now get me to do what she wants by threatening to show that film to your husband, but what can you do with pictures of me and her?”
“Well I was very careful not to get Lizzie’s face in any of the pictures. They’re just you handcuffed underneath a woman obviously older than you are. So as I’d like you to keep satisfying me until my husband gets out, and without any … insurance …. you might not be so keen… and unless you agree then those photos will get sent to every contact in your phone. Or didn’t you notice that it was your iPhone I was using? ” She took longer putting her clothes back on than she had done getting undressed and then laughed as she said: “Your clothes are in the living room.”
Gordon Lister stood slowly up and followed the two women downstairs where his clothes were folded neatly over a chair. “I did that earlier while you were doing Lizzie” said Cassie laughing again before adding rhetorically to nobody in particular, “and how about she gets Saturdays, and I get Sundays?”
Gordon Lister nodded: unable to think of a reason not to agree and began to get dressed. “10am Sunday” she said, handing him a small piece of paper with a handwritten address on it, “Come round the back door. It’ll be open.”
He watched her get into her car and drive away before he stepped out into the afternoon sun, and with a brief smile at Mrs Harris and a “see you on Saturday” set off walking home.
It was nearly three miles away: plenty of time to congratulate himself on confessing his fantasies to the attractive lesbian who’d been temping at his office since the start of the month. Quite why he’d gotten so indiscreet over a drunken lunch he still didn’t know, and he still dismissed it as part of some defence mechanism after Debbie Harris had rejected him with what he’d thought at the time were just some excuses about her sexuality, but now knew were true. It was also true that what she’d told him about her mother wanting some younger man to have sex with, just not wanting it enough to go out looking for one. What she’d not said was that there might be another woman with similar ambitions, but she’d been quite insistent that if an opportunity presented itself to her mother in a way that forced her to overcome any possible embarrassment about the age difference or her body shape when nearly naked, then she’d ‘grab it with both hands’.
He laughed at the memory of what Debbie had told him and began to wonder if he’d ever get back the handcuffs he’d found in a box under his mother’s bed, or whether Mrs Holberg had taken them home to use again on Sunday….