Anne working Overtime

Chapter 16. – Turbulence

Carol was crying.

To Anne it was a sight so upsetting that she felt her whole world rocked… and left her trembling all over. It was a completely new situation; possibly the confirmation of some of her worst fears. She found it hard to even imagine that it shouldn’t have something to do with her relationship with Jean. The way their differences deepened it was almost bound to break out in open conflict at some point. Anne had witnessed it with deep concern, and had no idea what to do about it. The very idea that the two of them – her most beloved mistresses – would drift apart in enmity and possibly even hatred to each other was just too much to bear. It would be like seeing her parents split up. No… perhaps much worse!

She had grown so used to having the two of them around; two raving beacons - two powerful, passionate and voracious forces in her wonderful life; setting things right with their natural authority, and supporting and encouraging her in her efforts to improve skills and mental aptitudes as a person as well as a service girl. And now that guiding force suddenly looked like it would break down. Or at least change substantially, never to be the same again; right before her very eyes.

How on earth would she be able to live with something like that?

It all started like so many times before. Jean was out of office, and Carol had been spending an hour or so in the demonstration lounge hosting a session with a very promising client, using Sandra as the service girl. The little blonde had shown remarkable progress in the deep-penetration training, and was already making great impressions with her regular clients, although her skills still didn’t get even close to those of Anne. Even though Jean had encouraged the use of younger trainees in such demonstrations, Carol preferred the predictability of the more experienced girls.

As usual the action had created a substantial itch in her ever-needy pussy, and she went out to find Anne for a quickie to calm her nerves before the next appointments. She found her in the back- end bathroom, showering and cleaning up after an overnight visit to one of the latest clients.

They didn’t even take time to fall into each other’s arms before Carol was down on the bed with the skirt around her waist, spreading widely for that sensational mouth, the one and only - capable of sucking her off to a violent orgasm within minutes, no matter what, where or when. She took her pleasure with a frustrated impatience that even surprised Anne… with a stiffness and tension about her that was so different from her usual cat- like softness; the softness that Anne enjoyed so much.

Only at the moment of ecstasy did she become her old self for a moment, cumming sharp and well- defined, holding Anne’s head like a vice and twisting brazenly about all over the sheets as she lived through the sensational bliss with elated senses.

It was when Carol finally rose back up and wiped her forehead with a crumpled handkerchief that Anne really noticed the difference. Sitting up like that, she suddenly kind of sank together, letting her hair spill down to cover her face. Then her shoulders started shaking, first almost inconspicuously, then more distinctly until a stunned Anne realized that she was really crying. Anne had been in the usual state of bliss which always swept her after a session with one of her favourite mistresses, half lying on the floor in front of the bed, enjoying the unparalleled taste of lady orgasm on her lips. But now she was yanked back to reality with such shocking force that she felt as if she was run down by a twenty-wagon freight train.

She had always seen Jean and Carol almost like goddesses, high up on their pedestals, looking down at their empires of mortal people like herself with a condescension bordering to arrogance - an arrogance they could afford because of their monumental personalities. It was as natural a part of them as the expensive suits they wore. And even though she knew it wasn’t quite so, Anne had adjusted her metal image of the two mistresses in that they were assertive enough to take anything – really anything - without problems. Just like that; showing even in real life the personal strength and power that she felt so intensely on the emotional level. Like a slave to her mistress.

Now, the wonderful lady looked thoroughly debunked, almost like a lost child; naked in a way. Shockingly stripped of all of the things that made her supreme and illustrious… almost down to someone asking for her pity.

An impossible notion! She could worship her, crawl at her feet, kiss the tip of her shoes and beg to be allowed to drink her very liquid orgasms. But she couldn’t feel pity for her. No darn way! That would cause her something like a full mental meltdown; the total demolition of her newfound life perceptions, the world that Carol and Jean had opened up to her. The mere thought was enough to fill her heart with despair.

But now she was here, sitting right in front of Anne - sunk together with her face hidden behind the rich cascade of almost black hair. Crying like a baby! And Anne just had to face it – had to deal with it - one way or the other. There was no way around it. But how could she handle it? How to handle something as outrageous as this?

Anne picked up one of her convenience napkins with a shaking hand and hurriedly wiped her own face. Then she reluctantly leaned over to carefully put her arm around her mistress’ shoulder. Even though it was not totally unexpected, she jumped as the woman slipped over to rest her head against her neck. Her shoulders shook as she let herself completely loose and literarily cried her heart out. Anne held her tight for a long while as all kinds of emotions rushed through her. From extreme disappointment, to rage against Jean, and then everything form existential panic to irrational desires to protest against the entire world.

To Anne’s relief, the time it took for Carol to calm down was apparently well worth it. All of a sudden she seemed to come around and lift her head off of Anne’s shoulder. Using her hand to sweep her full hair over her head and back to her neck, she gratefully accepted one of Anne’s napkins to clean up a bit and blow her nose. Like a little child…

“Thanks Anne… You’re an angel.” Again a loud sniffle, and a few blinks of the eyelashes to clear her vision. Then a meek smile; “What on earth would I do without you?”

Anne heard this all the time, but she knew that for once it meant more than just an empty saying. All of a sudden she was needed for comforting on an entirely different level. And she was deeply involved in the conflict between Carol and Jean almost before she actually knew what hit her. As she moved closer and kissed the woman’s damp cheek she realized that there was no way she would be able to continue her balance between the two women, those energetic poles of overpowering magnetism.

Feeling desolate, the woman continued to pour her heart out; verbally now; all those things about Jean. How they started out as the best of friends. How she noticed that thing she thought of as some kind of jealousy, although quite inconspicuous in the beginning. And how everything escalated into what ended in this more or less open conflict from the very moment Anne entered the scene. Up until now Carol had felt confident about getting to some kind of terms with Jean – no matter how difficult - finding a set of unspoken rules that they could move according to, and then build some kind of mutual trust from there. But during these last few weeks the truth had slowly crept in on her. Not only was it clear to her that things would never improve from Jean’s side, but she gradually became aware of her own feelings towards Jean too. She hated her! Straight up! At least that was how she felt about it.

Anne listened quietly, getting more and more upset by the minute. How could a wonderful woman like her very own Jean – her eternal mistress and goddess – be like this? And, even worse, could it be true what Carol told her, now matter how indirect, that it was because of her? More or less all because of her? First of all because she entered the scene and kind of ripped the picture of summer breeze- idyll? Not that she felt she was blamed in any way; on the contrary, she felt with every last nerve of her body that Carol had loved her from the first moment she saw her. And not because of her special skills only. She had assured her a million times, but it was first of all the gut feeling that told Anne that she was honest about it.

“Carol, dear… I know what you need. Why don’t you just report sick today, and we go to your house. There you can relax, and we can talk it over more freely than down here. What do you say?”

Carol looked at her with those huge, wet eyes, again looking more like a helpless child than the authoritative mistress she had learned to know and to love. She had, somehow, put herself onto a ‘level’ that all of a sudden felt almost equal to that of Anne herself. Kind of stepped down among those normal, highly mortal people that Anne considered herself a part of. Even in a dream world like this. Of course it was all just an emotional thing – and had always been - but Anne felt the change in every nerve of her body; like it was a significant –a really major – change in her life; the first time she felt more or less equal to a superior mistress!

So they left, together, leaving a message with Alison at the front desk that Carol felt unwell. Anne went to stay with her the whole day, and even the whole night afterwards, doing her best to nurse her back to her old self again. The need certainly was on the mental level this time - no doubt about that - even though her physical needs were taken care of as well, of course. And as always with a quality and enthusiasm beyond anything that could be expected from any ‘normal’ service girl.

As Carol made a huge pot of tea, she continued to lay out her feelings to Anne. From what she heard, it was clear to the girl that she was definitely to be blamed herself – at least partly; or… maybe not. Actually she had done exactly what was expected of her. Just that she was too enthusiastic about it! Her keen hunger for pussy in general, and her immediate lust for Carol’s voluptuous body especially, made it very easy – exceptionally easy – to follow the program with full focus, devouring the lady with insatiable hunger and drinking her bursting orgasms with blissful abandon. Nobody could expect her to know and understand the edge between the two women; that ominous edge that sharpened drastically as Anne entered the scene with her infamous skills and spellbinding submissive temperament. On the contrary; Anne expected things to be better as she harnessed her skills and dove headlong into submissive audacity. Without seeing, observing or knowing anything else around her, except the delight of the unparalleled match between desire and duty. Yet, the fact that Carol was special to her from the very first moment she saw her, never sounded the alarm bells with her. Not even when she got to notice the tension between them. She was slightly worried about it, sure enough, but never thought that it had anything to do with her.

And this was exactly what she told Carol between generous mouthfuls of leaking pussy juice as they had calmed down a bit and got down to discuss the matters properly. Probably the most extraordinary serious discussion Anne had ever had. Amazingly, the lady was able to enjoy the girl’s expert oral service even in a situation like this; The only difference being that her mind seemed to drift off every now and then, making her lose focus on her partner’s expert titillations at times; until Anne would bring her back to attention with some powerful flicks or a full penetration with her amazing tongue.

“So you really think you could love me just as much as Jean?” The lady asked with a slightly hoarse voice as she recovered from a particularly powerful orgasm.

“Mmmmm yes… You were special from the first time I saw you.” Anne lifted her head for a moment to smile up at her. “I have to admit I was most fascinated about that awesome butt of yours. You know… the way you wore your skirt at the first sit-in lecture I attended. That completely blew me away!”

Carol smiled with sparkles of satisfaction in her eyes. Then, she drifted off for a few seconds before ‘retuning’ once again; ”And, did you like the concept of face sitting? The way we do it with the special chairs, I mean. Did that appeal to you as much as we hoped it would? Honestly?”

“Oh yes… yes. It did” Anne let the tip of her tongue slip back in between the soft pussy lips and slide deferentially back and forth over the entrance to the vagina. “And that actually always worked best with you!”

Carol sighed in excitement from the frankness of the sweet compliment. “And why is that?”

“I – I really don’t know”. Then, after thinking for a moment; “It probably has something to do with the shape of your butt again… you know; the almost audacious femininity of it… Of all of you, comes to that!”

Anne let her hands slide lovingly along the soft skin of the lady’s thighs and down to cup the magnificent globes with elated fingers. Kind of underscoring the point she had just made.

The woman’s smile broadened, and Anne immediately recognized the fire in her eyes that indicated that she was slowly coming along to build for another pleasure ride. Then, she drifted away again for a moment before focusing on the youngster nesting between her thighs.

“So you really think that we could build a good love. I mean… a real relationship? Be like partners?”

Anne looked up again, a bit confused; “But how about your family? Your husband? The children? You’re married, aren’t you?”

Carol was silent for a moment. More dim sparkles, now of apprehension – almost fear – in those heavenly brown eyes. Then she smiled almost languorously; “Well… you know… I was thinking – You know; my husband is working and travelling a lot. And the children are still small…” She held in for a moment. Then it came; “Actually I thought we could have like an affair when he’s not there. That pretty much means most of the time, you know.” She swallowed. “How’s that to you?”

Anne hesitated. What on earth should she say to something like this? As the woman saw her reluctance, she hurriedly added; “You know; we can be together all the time… practically… you and me! Together here in this house. Make love at the pool, in my bedroom, in the lodge up in Wenger, wherever you want; and as much as you want. You know I’ll always be ready… Ooohhh… for you!”

Anne’s tongue filled her up completely - as only she could do – in a kind of unspoken appreciation of the woman’s offer; and also as a way of escaping the call for an immediate response. It was still kind of impossible for her to give a clear answer. Was that really what she wanted? Wasn’t it like playing second violin to some man who apparently didn’t care much about the lady she adored so much? If that was the way it really was? Come to think of it she never met and never knew anything about this husband of hers. For the obvious reason that she didn’t want to know! Just the thought of some man invading the territory she worshipped like a holy shrine, was almost intolerable to her.

No, she didn’t even want to think about it! She wanted to push such decisions as far away as possible, at least for now. She focused on worshipping the temple of passion to shuddering ecstasy right away, starting her slow, rhythmic series of full penetrations the way she knew her lover liked it most.

In just a few minutes she had her lady’s pubic bone labouring sturdily against her hard working mouth, forgetting all worries and negative vibrations as she rushed towards another thunderous climax. It hit her with its usual ferocious rage, leaving her screaming wildly as she spurted her elated passion down Anne’s most receptive throat; this time with just a limited amount of the pungent part coming along with it.

The emotional unease clearly transformed into a sexual energy stronger than usual even for this lady’s libido. On numerous occasions Anne had been explained how the lifestyle itself created a mounting and almost insatiable drive that had made her and the other ladies addicted to the exquisite service provided by their beloved service girls. She stunned even Anne by needing just a short let-down soothing by her love-drenched tongue before she came to trembling life once again, craving her unstinting service more ardently than ever. Normally these kinds of problems – exactly these kinds of problems – would be a serious turn- off for any kind of sexual desire. Existential crises and major worries is definitely not the ideal basis for a heart-bursting orgasm! Still, somehow it wasn’t a surprise that a woman like Carol could handle it. Obviously a result of this lifestyle- imposed addiction. Who else could do something like it?

Three more times the lady erupted in her mouth as evening turned into night out in the real world. Carol had stopped talking and was lying silent in deep thoughts as Anne gently and very carefully lapped her through the lengthening periods of recovery. As she fell asleep from total exhaustion sometimes in the early morning, Anne lay beside her for a while, just looking at her magnificent features before she drifted off herself. Her desire for the woman’s body - and for the joyful passion with which she took her pleasure – was stronger than ever; especially now, as she had rebuilt some of her old strength. But somehow the sting in her heart was there to stay, no matter what. Some fundamental things could never be fully rebuilt. The woman’s role as the invulnerable mistress – the queen of queens - was gone… inexorably… forever.

It was a shock that Anne needed some time to absorb. The full meaning of it kind of impacted over the next few days. The strange emptiness inside; the feeling that something very important was missing. Almost as if somebody close to her had passed away. Carol was there, of course, and she continued her work as before. But her whole appearance had changed. It was something in her eyes. Those beautiful, bedazzling eyes. When they met with hers, they had a different glow about them. A kind of warmth - compassion perhaps - a nearness she hadn’t noticed before. Or maybe it was there earlier too… just differently; entirely different from what she had learned to know and to love since they first met at that fantastic sit-in lecture up in Mayo.

Yes! Come to think of it; it was the same glow as before. The very same one. Anne realized that she was the one who had changed. Anne herself. Abruptly! She just experienced the same thing totally differently. All of it. All of her. She didn’t see the strong desire any more… the consummating passion that was like a trigger button to her own libido. Or that was what she thought, at least. Because that wasn’t actually true either. It was all there, just as strong as before. It was in her eyes, and it definitely was in her body as well. During Jean’s absence, they both gradually rebuilt the old Carol by slinking away for short, but extraordinary intense love sessions where Anne would dedicate herself to the pussy worship with a ferocity that almost astonished her. Almost as if they had met for the first time. That magnificently shaped ass, and the way it moved, had the same effect as before, it ignited a fire that could only be put out by their mutual orgasms. No matter how quick. No matter how hidden. A pleasure that kept up a sweet glow in both of them.

But some fundamental things were different, and stayed different. First of all there was the thing of total bliss. Anne discovered she suddenly disliked that Carol almost always emptied most of her bladder into her mouth as she came. That was a kind of understanding they had reached early on, since it helped her relax and made her orgasms better. Anne never actually enjoyed it, but it literarily drowned in the passion of the submissive service; in the senseless fervour of bringing about the massive eruptions this lady always had. Burster or not. Any sacrifice to increase the intensity of this goddess’ pleasure was worth it. Any! So now, as it first occurred to her, she just tried to push it away – to forget it. Just drink it the same way she was drinking in the submissive passion of serving her unconditionally at all times. Embrace it with an insatiable throat, instead of fighting it, as she had done from the very first time they were together alone up in Mayo. It worked for a little while, but then she realized that even in that respect their relationship had changed forever, and there was no way to change back again.

Secondly there was Jean. The one and only Jean Alden; the woman who started it all. The beautiful mistress who had been the ultimate goal of her meticulous efforts ever since the very first class of hers back in school. The beacon of eternal passion and submission. What about her? Had something changed in the relationship with her?

Again the few days of serious thinking brought on a new and very unpleasant realization. Things had changed a lot! She didn’t come for Anne’s services as often as before. And when she came, it was all much quicker and more impatient than it used to be. The endless evenings of insanely passionate oral service were seemingly gone for ever. Those wonderful evenings they used to have back in Anne’s old flat; the place where her nosy parents kept trying to find out what was going on. No; things had changed a lot indeed! It was just that things had been so busy in her new life as the prime service girl that she hadn’t actually noticed. She was consummated – completely drunk, so to say – by the heated femininity surrounding her at all times; all those warm and trembling thighs embracing her head, the blissful wetness of tongue- craving pussies against her lips, the trembling sighs and heated shrieks of passion from above; it all dimmed her senses in a way that made her more or less oblivious to the more substantial things going on around her.

Come to think of it, the realization had been creeping in on her over quite some time, actually. From time to time even in those very early days of submissive bliss. Possibly even from the fist times she met Carol. How could a single event like that – just meeting some other person – make such a tremendous difference in her life? But then again she had to remember that it was all a part of – and even an important step further into – this fantastic new world of sexual submission that had been such a perfect match with her hidden dreams and fantasies. Not exactly another everyday event!

Anne was still thinking about all the different problems that seemed to mount ahead as she left for her first ‘field visit’ with one of the new clients, Ms. Davies. For the first time in a long time she wasn’t looking particularly forward for another bout of service. This lady was just extraordinary slow, to say the least. The two first introduction sessions – the first with Julia and the second with herself – had been terrible. The woman had been stiff and helpless and almost impossible to approach at all. Completely different from the other clients she’d met so far. And still she had both the maturity and the beauty it took to fit in nicely with the concept. Earlier in her ‘career’ she would have seen it as a tremendous challenge to get under the skin – literarily – and melt the ice enough to make her understand that she’s perfectly ready for their kind of service. Now it was nothing but annoying to have to sort of drag her out from her hide, in a way, and start all over from the absolute scratch! Anyway, here she was, and this was another task that would require the best of her professionalism.

Ms. Davies had asked for a meeting in the Tacot Grove Hotel at the opposite side of Kamachooga Bay at 7, and as usual Anne was there exactly on time. She was pleased to see that the woman seemed to be a little more relaxed this time, and she had even dressed a little more confidently, and immediately looked much more appealing. She wasn’t the business suite- type of lady at all. Not the usual kind of executive appearance. This time she had dressed in jacket and skirt, however, and – as usual – this immediately made her look more like Anne’s kind of lady. The Jacket was in a dark, almost marine- blue colour, and the skirt was a darker greyish, and looked almost like some kind of tweed- material. Not the most successful combination to the girl’s taste. On top of it all she wore a greenish top underneath which didn’t match either with the jacket or with the otherwise beautiful necklace. Still it was far better than the boring housewife- kind of habits she’d been wearing the first couple of times over at Wesner. Maybe the most important progress was the unmistakable smell of Lucci Minet that filled her senses when they hugged and kissed. That definitely was class, after all!

Ms. Davies was a dark blonde lady of about 35 and something, with shoulder-long and curly hair in some typical dyed dresser- style. The suit she wore now definitely did some more justice to her figure than at the sessions back at Wesner, although even this one hid whatever qualities she might have like in a contourless shield of indifference. Anne’s initial scan of her as she rose to greet and cheek- kiss, left her with an imperceptible feeling that there might be more underneath that dress than meet the eye. That she didn’t have the confidence to flaunt her stuff was obvious, but could there be a way to lure her out of her hide? No matter how dark the initial prospect? The first sight had given her impulses enough to arouse at least a little bit of curiosity.

The woman still had this stiffness about her when she was touched, but it was much less prominent, and didn’t feel like such an insurmountable obstacle to good intimacy any more. Maybe she could be one of the ladies after all?

Still, it was better to get it over with as soon as possible, so she could focus on what she felt was the most important problems at hand. Just enjoy the service she would provide for this lady too. Make her feel as good as possible, no matter how much she would pull back and kind of defy her well-intended pleasuring efforts.

They got seated at the table, and Anne started to be nervous that she would be the one to have to get the conversation going as well. For a short moment it really looked like that too, but then the lady kind of pulled herself together and looked her straight into the eyes; that also something she hadn’t really seen with her before.

“Ms. Thornton… Anne” she started, swallowing a huge lump in her throat before she continued, “I asked about this meeting, because I felt that you’re the only one who can help me to really get through with this.” Her eyes flicked down and she gazed at her nervous hands as she continued “But you have no idea how hard it is for me!”

“Please call me Anne, Ms. Davis. Remember that I’m here to help and to serve. You’re the lady. And I…” Anne stopped. It hit her that this was no time for some hooker- like monologue about how she could make her feel like a real lady and these sorts of things.

“Yes… yes, of course. I know!” There was almost like a touch of panic in her eyes. She jumped lightly as the waiter appeared at their side. “Would you like something to drink?” she stammered.

“Yes please… how about a straight Martini?”

The woman ordered her own drink and tried to look confidently into her eyes. A stance she definitely wasn’t able to hold, at least not yet. She cleared her throat and swallowed deeply once again;

“You know, I’ve talk to several of the people who’s been using Ms. Alden’s services for quite some time already.” She held in for a moment and coughed again. “In the beginning I felt like this definitely wasn’t something for me… not at all, actually!” Another moment of breathless silence. Anne waited. Actually she started to get a bit curious about what point the woman was getting at.

Ms. Davis kept staring down on her hands. “So…” A sigh… “So… I – I decided to forget about it!”

Her hands started trembling and she jumped again as Anne gently put her own hands over them. The girl waited another few seconds before she took over to help her on.

“But now we’re here together” she smiled softly, bending down slightly to try capturing her eyes as she went. “I know this is difficult. It’s a very personal and emotional thing. I hope you don’t think you’re the only one who finds it difficult to get started with.” The last remark was a bluff. Practically all the other ladies had handled this first meetings without any problems whatsoever. But Ms. Davis didn’t know that!

“You don’t have to explain anything Miss. I’m just glad that you decided to meet me, and I’ll do anything I can to help make this a positive and useful experience, something you really won’t regret.”

The woman looked relieved, but still nervous. She had grasped Anne’s hands and held them firmly in her own. She concentrated for a few seconds, and then her eyes flicked up to face her partner’s with something that looked like new strength.

“Thank you… you’re very understanding. I know now why Ms. Alden picked you for this meeting. You are so relaxing that I even get the feeling that I could actually go through with it…”

That was a corner to start working at. A declaration of confidence that really helped set things so that she could manoeuvre more freely. In just some ten minutes of light chatting, the woman was so relaxed that Anne thought she could even recognize some almost imperceptible signals of arousal. Her self confidence mounted onto new levels. This was really not a simple case! Couldn’t she even spot something that might look like curiosity in those – now suddenly sparkling - green eyes? Or were they actually grey- greenish?

“So… Anne, how do you like your – should I say job – with Ms. Alden? Is she a good boss?”

The woman’s hands had stopped shaking, and now laid calmly over hers. She still had the same kind of stiffness about her though.

“Oh yes, she is. She introduced me to the lifestyle and the people I know today, and I never regretted it one second. Actually the happiness I feel to day is all thanks to her.”

“Amazing. So you really like the lifestyle. I mean… really!

“Yes… of course. If not, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

Silence. The new sparkle in those indeterminable eyes grew more prominent as they gazed – still with a slight touch of uncertainty – back at Anne. The sexual heat was suddenly all but radiating against her. It made her own body come to life as well, although she was a little annoyed that all of her new client seemed to have such a hard time believing that she really enjoyed what she did. Why wasn’t she able to get that message better through? Was there something with her body language?

The woman looked even more relaxed though. Comforted undoubtedly even by the frankness of her answer.

“So you enjoy… uh… doing… using … uh…”

“Yes, I do!” Anne almost had to laugh. “It’s the best thing I can do. Ms. Alden can explain these things to you better than I can. She’s kind of a chief ideologist in this. For me I guess it’s got something to do with the awesome power of abandoned submission. It’s like a kind of hunger. I love it immensely!”

Once again the woman was silent for a moment. Not looking so off- guarded as expected though. Still, the concept of pussy licking didn’t come easy to her, that was for sure. No wonder the demonstration hours at Wesner ended without any ‘close contact’…

Anne decided to see if it was possible to get things on the move. After all the lady had asked for the meeting; “I’d be most delighted to be allowed to introduce you to the joy of it. I think you’re very beautiful, so you don’t have to worry about that part at all!”

Ms. Davies swallowed hard and really looked like struggling to give an audible response. “And… uh… what’s in it for you? I mean… what do you get out of it… uh…”

Anne had to suppress a sigh. She knew it was important to take time to explain her feelings about this, but sometimes it was a bit hard on her patience. But another short glance at her companion somehow told her that it was worth it this time too.

“To me and the other young girls in the group this is a realization of fantasies and dreams we’ve had almost since childhood. It springs from a keen desire for submissive servitude paired with a strong passion for pussy worship. It’s hard to explain for someone who doesn’t have that desire, but there’s nothing like the feeling of giving pleasure to a woman you find sexually attractive. There’s something magic about using your mouth and tongue to give her joy, and feel the responses in her body as you play out your full register of techniques on her. And then when she has her orgasm in your mouth, and her thighs embrace you in ecstatic pleasure…; there’s absolutely nothing like it! “

The woman shrugged. She remained silent, but Anne thought she could se a faint touch of aversion on her face. Enough to know that she definitely wasn’t a lesbian; no insight into that side of what she was exploring. The only thing to find out yet was if she was open to the touch that they could offer at all. At least it should be clear that Anne was ready for whatever she was ready for. She had never – never ever – been so direct in her description of the finer things of her pussy worship life. Not to a new client, that is.

The heat from a minute back was almost totally gone. The woman had returned to her former placidity, again staring nervously down at her hands. Anne decided it was time to make some bold moves to find out how far she could expect to get. There was a fine line between hosting well and wasting time!

Once again she gently put her hands over her partner’s. And once again she jumped slightly at her touch.

“Ms. Davies; may I suggest that we go to your room and try to find out what we are ready to do? You do have a room here, don’t you?”

The woman’s eyes flicked up at her and they stared breathlessly at each others for a few seconds. Then there was a meek nod. “Yes… yes I have.” Then the woman shook her head lightly in another attempt to get grip. Suddenly she smiled back almost confidently. “Yes, let’s go. It’s better to talk in privacy about this, don’t you think?”

“Definitely, Ms. Davies!”

The room was spacious and elegant, not as huge as the ones she had been used to with some of her wealthier clients, but still excellent for the case at hand. It had a broad bed, a little corner section and an open door with calmly flickering curtains out to a marble- floored balcony. It was a warm and quiet evening, and the setting sun mirrored romantically in the waters across the bay. It was strange to see it from this side. Most of the resort hotels were at the beach side at the Kamachooga Club and the Oyster Market. Over here the coast line was rugged and steep, and not very inviting to swimmers or surfers and the like. But it was a perfect place to introduce a new lady to the pleasures of Anne’s talents!

On the way up Anne had managed to convince her partner that nothing would happen unless she wanted it herself. That was the only way to move forward. No seduction scene to make things too embarrassing to handle for her. This had calmed her down to an extent where Anne started to sense a touch of the erotic tension she had managed to create a little while downstairs.

Just the fact that the woman had reserved a room was a clear indication that she had left the possibilities open for something. That she really was serious about trying to get this started somehow. Anne figured that it had been recommended to her time and time again as the right way for her to get on with other parts of her life as well. That was something Jean had hinted the first time she had mentioned her as a possible client. What had happened to her to make her so afraid to step forward? Show the world what she’s got? Anne knew it was deeply unfair, but for just s split second she thought she had to be a divorcee with such a tied-up attitude, such clamp- legged prudence! Who could live with someone like that…

So, to find out what this something was, Anne decided to take another bold step. One that would also make it perfectly clear to the lady that she was in for any treatment she felt she would be able to handle. As they entered, she took the woman by the hand and moved her lips close to her ear;

“Why don’t you take off your panties miss? I mean… nothing happens and nothing can be seen.” She held in a moment to let the meaning of her words sink in. As she felt the body stiffen noticeably, she added;

“It makes things easier if we should decide to do something, and… it’s important to me… to get the right mood. In fact it’s very important to me!”

Anne made one step away as she let her absorb her words, waiting for what kind of reaction they might provoke. The lady trembled lightly, and she really raised her eyes to look over at her.

“Really?... Is that s – so?” she stuttered breathlessly.

Anne nodded.

Ms. Davies still stood in the same position, with her side against Anne. Her entire posture showed how her mind worked to decide how to respond. Then she once again shook her head lightly as to clear her mind.

“Okay… uh, of course…”

She turned further away from Anne in a kind of shy self-protective stance as she started reaching up under her skirt. As she lifted it enough to reach the waistband of her panties, Anne was delighted to get a glimpse of a set of very sexy looking stockings held up by black garterbelt straps. As the skirt momentarily slipped up high, the creamy skin of the butt made a breathtakingly erotic background to them. That also revealed the actual contour of that magnificent bum. Anne immediately noticed the extraordinary well-moulded shape of it. Much hotter than she had expected; clearly suppressed by the impression left by her otherwise rather greyish personality. Then the panties swished down stiffly, letting the skirt down with it to cover up the glimpse of erotic femininity again. Back in place, that skirt had an incredible way of suppressing any trace of the sexy lines of her body. Once again reducing her to this invisible grey mouse. But Anne had noticed, and her heart had started beating in unmistakable desire. It struck her that this definitely may not be such a waist of time after all.

The lady stuffed her panties into her handbag, and then started roaming around in there, seemingly searching for something else. Anne already read her mind so well that she recognized is as a helpless way to avoid facing her again after such a ‘bold’ act. Gently she stepped forward and put her hand on her arm. As usual the woman jumped as she was touched, and then swirled around so suddenly they almost kicked their foreheads together. That again caused her to step back defiantly, so Anne had to grab her arms to prevent her from falling backwards all over the table of the corner section behind her.

Suddenly they stood close, face to face, feeling each other’s warm breath as their struggle to stay upright transformed into an almost dance- like wiggling back and forth. Anne held her there just a few seconds longer than necessary for her to get full control. Then – before the woman could get embarrassed or shy, she elegantly let one hand go, and turned to the side with the other one sneaking down around her waist. With a light push in her back they were on the move out to the balcony, strolling like a couple in love, until they reached the classic- styled marble rail and felt the warm breeze against their faces. There Anne used a gentle hand on her upper arm to guide her around to face her. The caressive draft played with the woman’s hair and made the locks fall down into her eyes. Behind her the last glowing slice of the sun dove below the horizon and left a beautiful rain of deep red ocean reflections frame her partner’s head and shoulders. Oh yes, there was something to this lady that had to be discovered. No grey mouse could look as beautiful as this, not even in this kind of scenery.

“Here, Ms. Davies, let me take your jacket and get us a drink. I prefer bourbon!” she told her as she proceeded to slip the jacket off her shoulder. Before the woman could think of a reaction, it was off her shoulders and down on her arms, and Anne was half way around her to get it all off. She left her with her confused expression as she went in to the little bar and got the bottle and glasses she had spotted as they came in. One of them had a few droplets inside, so she knew that the lady had had a few drinks to freshen up even before she vent down to their meeting.

She folded the jacked elegantly over a chair before she poured the glasses and brought them along with the bottle out to her partner, still waiting out in the glitter of the sunset. The short- sleeved greenish top she wore under the jacket wasn’t blowing her away either, but it definitely was another small step in the right direction. Although it was a little too large to Anne’s taste, it suggested a couple of quite nice and firm tits in there. Tits that would be fully visible if she could just find some excuse to pull that top close to her waist, somehow.

The woman took the glass without a word, and almost spilled some drops as she hurriedly raised it to Anne’s before she proceeded to sweep it down. Anne followed her example, more to keep her company than because she needed it. The alcohol scorched like fire down her throat and drove tears to her eyes as she turned to replenish. Anything to make things easier to the lady.

The next one lasted a bit longer. It was clear that the first downer helped quite a bit. They leaned back to the rail to enjoy the last stages of the sunset. Nothing much was said as they both admired the silent fireworks of colours over the vast surface of the bay. But the some of the earlier mood was back in the air – definitely. She could feel it in every nerve of her body. Time was up to grab the moment. She had to be careful and patient, but there was otherwise no reason to wait.

Alas, as to stick to her own conclusions, Anne turned and put her hand gently on her client’s upper arm.

“You know what, Ms. Davies? I think you’re ready for some tenderness. I really thing you are.”

“Do you?” The woman got some of this hopelessly lost expression on her face again.

“Yes I do. Should I pour you another drink?”

“Yes please!” Then a moment of silence as some more of the golden liquid caressed the shiny glass. “Call me Catherine, will you?”