Butterscotch Part 3
Introduction:
Please leave a comment and stay tuned for Part 4.
Drinks with the lads was great; a weekly rite of relaxation and male bonding. But all good things should come to an end. Not that the employees of the respected law firm of Marmaduke, Daintree and Partners ever let their Friday drinking get out of hand, but the time inevitably came to call it a day and to say good night.
After the lads had bid me goodbye, I stepped out into the street and headed home. The evening was calm and mild by London standards and I dropped into Lou Lou’s quaint little Victorian era flower emporium to buy a bunch of arum lilies. The shop was located right round the corner from my apartment building and as I turned the corner I instinctively glanced up at the fifth floor to the windows of my apartment.
There, against the inky blackness, I saw a trio of candles burning.
I smiled and felt a slight tingle of expectation in the pit of my stomach. I gripped the stems of the lilies tighter as I entered the elevator and jabbed hard at the button marked five. I then realized that I was becoming impatient; contemptuous of delay, intolerant of anything that stood between me and the exquisite embodiment of pleasure that was waiting for me.
Her name was Tamsin.
My door was unlocked. As I entered, I was greeted by the rich aroma of sandalwood. I took a deep breath and my mouth began to water as the incense stirred my senses. I heard music playing quietly in the background; an exotic, tribal rhythm that sounded like it had originated in the Near East. The apartment was dark, but as I walked into the corridor I saw a line of candles leading to the lounge.
As I entered the lounge I noticed that the couch was covered with a cloth of sumptuous purple velvet. By one end of it was a small, round table upon which was a silver wine jug and two goblets; all sparkling in the candle light. A bowl of red grapes completed this intimate little still-life.
As my eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom, I saw a figure slowly approaching from out of the shadows. A vision of mystic beauty stood before me.
She wore her hair in an antique style, reminding me of recent films set in ancient Greece. Around her neck, a heavy necklace hung of agates and sardonyx, turquoise, gold and lapis lazuli. As she raised her hands and took a step closer I saw heavy gold rings on her fingers and a bracelet of what appeared to be pure gold.
I was awed and speechless but not surprised – nothing Tamsin did these days surprised me. I had known her for three months and she would constantly reinvent herself. Whether she did it for me or to fill some inner need in her, I don’t know but I was just glad to be along for the ride.
I looked down her exquisite body. Every inch of her was pure poetry. She wore what appeared to be a length of white cotton cloth draped elegantly around one shoulder and leaving one of her magnificent breasts uncovered. The rest of the cloth hung down to her knees. I let my eyes linger on her loveliness for a long while as she stood there. She said nothing but, as always, her eyes of crystalline blue were alive and burning with intense emotion.
I stepped closer and she took my hand. She ran my fingers down her face and across her breasts then spoke to me in a language I did not understand. It was a tongue rich and sibilant and as she spoke, the intensity in her eyes grew. I listened to the arcane words, spoken with the utmost softness and tenderness; as though they were a sacred incantation and I knew then that I was in the presence of the Goddess.
Gracefully, she walked over to the small table and poured us both a goblet of wine. It was a rich, sweet red that I had never tasted before. It was at once intoxicating and refreshing and as I savored the last drop, I was met by a sweet smile. She took a sip from her own cup then put it down. I felt strong hands and smooth palms run over my shoulders.
They were purple of raiment and golden,
Filled full of thee, fiery with wine,
Thy lovers in haunts unbeholden,
In marvelous cambers of thine….
She kissed me and slowly started to undress me. She would not allow me to help her, so I knew that tonight was about me. But how could I begin to ignore this woman’s need for pleasure. I was her devotee, I was her slave and I was her adjunct in all things.
My clothes soon lay in a discarded pile on the floor; I had emerged from them like a moth after metamorphosis – a newly potent creature with wondrous capabilities.
I took a deep breath as I saw her get down on her knees before me. Soon, supple fingers, velvety lips and a satin tongue were working their magic on my balls and cock. I shut my eyes and listened to the luscious sounds of Tamsin’s mouth at work on my shaft; set against a background of hypnotic music. The rich incense and the ambrosial wine too cast their spell on my senses. I soon found myself transported into an occult world of infinite possibilities presided over by this beautiful arch-sorceress.
She now reached around and parted the cheeks of my butt, rubbing all the sensitive area behind my balls and at the rim. I loved this and it was something that she had not done before. The rose of expectation began to bloom within in me.
I became hard quickly as she started tugging my cock upwards at just the right angle. My breathing was getting heavier and, sensing this, she stopped. I saw a salacious smile creep across her face as she slowly rose and led me to the couch. I sat down; my cock still wet and glistening from her saliva and still standing rigidly to attention.
Tamsin stood before me, turned slowly and teasingly raised the cloth revealing her beautiful butt. She swayed her hips to the music, running her hands up and down her sides. Slowly she turned; her eyes burning intensely, and removed the cloth. It lingered momentarily about her shoulders then slid reluctantly to the floor. Now the precious necklace that I had admired earlier, found itself framed by her breasts – three treasures moved in harmony as she danced. At that moment I couldn’t have torn my eyes away from her if it had meant my very life!
I stood up and she smiled. I approached her; we kissed tenderly again then she lay on the couch with her butt in the air. As I walked over to her, she got onto her knees and produced a stick of lube. I bit my lip as she squeezed the lube onto two fingers. Then, with an encouraging glance back at me, she slid the fingers slowly into her butt. I knelt down beside her to watch this beautiful woman working her most intimate depths. She rubbed slowly at first, then faster and harder as the sensation began, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. I was entranced and instinctively reached for my cock. But I didn’t need to do too much to it before it was as rigid as granite.
She shivered, shuddered and swayed; moving up and down on the couch, moaning softly, then she stopped and reached for my hand with a look of appeal in her azure eyes. She need not have worried. I kept one hand firmly on my cock while I buried one then two fingers into the silky depths of her rear. It was amazing to feel her muscles alternately tighten then relax around my fingers as I plunged them deeper and deeper into her succulent little hole. I started to imagine what it would be like to lick this lush little treasure and without another thought, I parted her butt cheeks, surprising her, and plunged my tongue in. I worked it all around and heard her moan appreciatively. I felt pulses begin to run through her body as her moans grew louder. Then she made me stop. Turning over, she gave me the lube and I gently applied more to her. I massaged her butt with my fingers again as I felt her cool lips envelope the head of my cock and her skilful hand flick my foreskin back and forth until I was so hard that she could do it no longer.
My pressure on the rim of her butt increased as I found myself willingly succumbing to the intense lust that this woman always kindled in me.
I looked at her face as she opened her eyes and playfully licked her lips. She got onto all fours as I stood up behind her. She moved back until my cock just stroked her butt. This was all the delay I could stand. I grabbed her hips and slid my full length into her. Immediately she arched her back and I felt her muscles lock onto me. I began to thrust into her. Tamsin responded by meeting my every stroke with a counter stroke and I planted my feet firmly on the floor; using my every muscle to compliment the work of my cock.
I ran my palms up and down her back; I held her by the shoulders and gently pulled her hair. I gripped her by the throat tenderly and put my fingers in her mouth. She nibbled and bit them – the pain was delicious; adding to the indescribable riot of pleasure that my cock and Tamsin’s butt were treating us both to.
I could almost feel the waves of pleasure running up and down her spine as she thrust harder and harder into me. I stopped moving and threw my head back. I gripped the couch and savored the power of her repeated thrusts. Her butt could not get enough cock to fill it as she repeatedly impaled herself upon me. I grabbed her butt cheek, as I began to thrust hard into her again and again. At times my cock almost left her body completely but this was so that I could enjoy the sight of its full length plunging back in.
We were both sweating now despite the coolness of the room. I watched as a bead of water ran down Tamsin’ shoulder, leaving a glistening trail where it had caressed her flesh. This was all I could take; my utmost limit had been reached.
I grit my teeth, arched my back over her and sank my fingers deep into her shoulders.
My breathing stopped and for a long moment; the world, along with everything in it except for this one and only goddess, ceased to exist.
Only later did I realize that I had come as never before, but at that instant I was conscious of nothing save the waves of pleasure that drummed through my body as I unleashed a white torrent deep into Tamsin’s delicious rear.
A rare giggle escaped her lips as I pulled out of her. A little of my juice escaped and I rubbed it into her skin. She seemed to enjoy this and I saw her eyes beaming with pleasure as she sat down next to me. She looked down at me. I was clearly drained and spent. She spoke some more of that mysterious language which sounded so strange to me. Whatever the words meant, they sounded comforting and affectionate. It was as if we had just met and that this was a scene taking place in some past age, in some exotic land. I smiled back at her, wondering just how long she was going to remain in character.
We drank more of the wine, relaxed and caressed each other for what seemed like a blissful hour. We then showered, spending more time kissing as cascades of hot water soothed tired muscles. I dried her golden hair and she spent time drying my every nook. I was clearly enjoying her attentions when she looked up into my eyes suddenly and said,
“Lucky boy, you get for free what Phryne only sold to the powerful, the famous and the rich.”
“I’m humbled, but you’re not Phryne.”
“Oh?”
“You’re Aphrodite.”
“Flatterer, you may follow in the wake of the goddess.”
That night, we lay in each others arms and Tamsin soon fell fast asleep. I kissed her forehead and the spot that I love most, just in front of her ear. I drank in her wonderful aroma and held her close, listening to the music of her breath. That night I also had a dream.
I dreamt that I was lying on the floor in a dark, metallic room with electronic walls, down which cascades of red data flowed in an endless stream. I was naked and erect and a beautiful woman was making love to me. At first I could not see her face. It was hidden by her golden hair and I could only hear her moan softly over the room’s deep electronic hum. Behind her was a tall antique mirror and I found my gaze wandering to the image of our lovemaking reflected in it. The woman then tossed her hair forward leaving her back fully exposed. She began to thrust her body harder down onto me as I continued to watch her in the glass. I followed the beautiful line of her spine from the base of her neck to her lower back. She sighed and with each breath she came down hard onto my rigid shaft. Now a subtle change came over the image in the mirror. I blinked and focused more closely upon her back as she thrust up and down in an ever growing delirium of passion.
Then I saw it – her spine began to glow! It was barely perceptible at first but as the speed of her thrusting body increased, so did the unearthly glow; pulsing faster and brighter with cold light. I was fascinated and horrified and I could not stop looking at the mirror. Suddenly a hand delicately stroked my cheek and a voice spoke to me,
“What do you see in the mirror lover?”
I looked up to see Tamsin’s eyes of glacial blue smiling down at me more brightly that the morning star. I woke in a cold sweat and vaguely saw the dim light of dawn in the room. I heard a purr over the noise of my heavy breathing and looked down to see her serene face nestled in my shoulder. I let out a sigh of relief as I felt her arms tighten around me.
************************************
“Creatrice? Mmm, sounds intriguing. What sort of club is it?”
“Well, it’s very different to what you might be used to.”
“Ok, now I am intrigued. Why not, let’s go.”
“Fine, but first we have some preparations to make.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, it’s hard for me to explain over the phone. What time will you be home?”
“Umm, I can get away at half-five. How’s that?”
“Perfect. I’ll see you just after. Bye.”
“Ok, bye.”
I knew she had ended with her usual sly smile, though I could not see it on her face. It was obvious that I was in for another of Tamsin’s surprises. I left the office early. It was Friday and nothing much was happening so I crept out at 5:30 so as to avoid the obligatory trip to the pub. I sprinted home and tidied up also making a fresh pot of coffee in anticipation of her arrival.
At 5:55 the doorbell rang. I opened it and there stood a girl who I didn’t recognize.
She had blood-red hair and her face was painted white. She had long, slender black brows and her eyes were rimmed with black – deep black, like those of an Egyptian princess. I had never seen this girl before.
She looked at me with a faint air of impertinence but I just stood there blocking the doorway and running my eyes down her body. She wore a metal studded leather collar, several necklaces of metal beads and a beautiful embroidered black leather bodice with elaborate lacing down both sides. Below that, a brief skirt of red tartan and netted stockings – discreetly torn in a couple of places. These led my eye to a pair of heavy black and incredibly shiny boots adorned with many chrome straps. Her arms were naked and as she raised a hand upon which shone a variety of bizarre rings, she took a theatrical step back from the doorway,
“Aren’t you going to let me in Josh, it’s cold out here.”
Her luminescent eyes of Arctic blue had already given her away. Now they shone; dazzling me like the rare treasures that they were.
I stepped forward and gripped her by the lacing on the bodice and pulled her into the apartment. I quietly closed the door and turned to find her sitting on the edge of a chair – posed as if she were about to be photographed – avant garde.
I crossed my arms and stood there looking at her with my head to one side; as though she was a sculptural installation in a gallery. She struck up a few more poses for me; and each time her eyes penetrated my very soul, such was their intensity.
“What sort of club did you say this was that we’re going to?”
“I didn’t, but this get-up should give you some idea.”
I walked around her slowly. I didn’t want to admit that I was finding this latest incarnation of hers a huge turn on. She looked at me again and smiled slyly; as always, she knew exactly what I was thinking. In her best Oxbridge accent she said,
“I get the distinct impression that you approve of my current apparel Mr. Mackay.”
I smiled and nodded my head slowly; doing my best to look like a horny wide-eyed schoolboy. She smiled again demurely, then said quietly,
“Good, but we can’t go anywhere with you looking like that.”
Before I could answer she strutted to the door, opened it and brought in a multi level metal toolbox. She must have left this by the side of the door because I didn’t see it earlier.
“Now, I’d like some coffee please.”
“Oh, forgive me, where are my manners. Butterscotch?”
“Naturally my good man and please be quick about it.”
I hurried into the kitchen in a state of growing anticipation. Tamsin was in charge tonight. I had brewed the butterscotch coffee that we both loved and brought it out on a tray with my best Wedgwood china. As I set the tray down on the coffee table, I could tell that she appreciated the trouble that I had gone to. She was English to the core and afternoon tea was a daily ritual for her.
We sipped our coffee quietly; enjoying the rich flavour. Watching her, I could tell by the subtle changes in her expression that she loved each sip. Tamsin often communicated with body language alone. In this as in so many other things, she was unlike any other woman I had ever known. Looking again at her stark white face, set with two sapphires of unsurpassable beauty, I felt a pleasant knot forming in the pit of my stomach.
She put her cup and saucer down on the tray and opened the tool box. Inside I saw a wide array of make-up articles.
“Now Joshua, please get a chair and make yourself comfortable.”
I did as ordered. She started by removing my shirt and running gel through my hair. Next I shut my eyes as she applied white to my face. I imagined that I would soon look like a Japanese kabuki actor but I resisted asking to look in the mirror. She gave the white a few minutes to dry then with a black pencil, she outlined my eyes; I guessed, to match her own. The feel of her supple fingers rubbing paint onto my face and the texture of the makeup pencil were new sensations for me. I found it oddly soothing and more than a little sensual. At length I opened my eyes to see that she was satisfied with her work so far. Then she reached for a jar of red. I frowned when I saw her open this lurid shade,
“Trust me peach, you’ll fit right in at Creatrice.”
“I trust you.”
“Good.”
She smeared the red on my top lip and down one side of my chin then she worked again on my eye lids using a dark shade of iridescent blue. When she had finished I reached into the box and found a cardboard template with what appeared to be a razor wire design cut into it. I wrapped the template around her upper arm.
“Hmm, I think this is just what you need.”
“Ok, go for it. I’m glad to see you’re getting into the spirit.”
I was a little surprised that she was now going to let me decorate her. She showed me what to do and soon a very effective design of black razor wire was wrapped neatly around her upper arm.
“Very good Joshua. I see you’re a born artist. Now you can paint my lips.”
I held her head delicately in one hand and with a fine sable brush I applied a light shade of red to her upper lip. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. Her face before me was like a vision from a dream. Her breathing slowed so as not to interfere with my brushstrokes. When I had finished with the lighter shade of red I blew air onto her lips to dry the paint. This surprised her and she shivered ever so slightly. I then blew air across her eyes causing her lashes to flutter. Now I applied a darker shade of red, giving her lips the illusion of shade and making them look fuller. Once I had finished she opened those spectral blue eyes and I was at once ensnared by them. I drew away reluctantly to look at my work.
“On Helen’s cheek all art of beauty set,
And you in Grecian tires are painted new.”
“Shakespeare?”
“Sonnet fifty-three.”
“Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, wherethrough the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee.
– Sonnet twenty-four”
She had outdone me once again. But there was such unmistakable affection and tenderness in her voice as she recited these words that I felt like kissing her. Instead I took her hand and paid it the honour that her lips were due.
“Beautiful.”
She smiled modestly once again then said,
“Now let’s get you in character.”
She opened one of my seldom used storage cupboards where she found a bag that she had obviously hidden there some time ago. I looked at her suspiciously but she took no notice. From the bag she produced a pair of tight black jeans, a black satin shirt and an incredible belt studded all over with unusual metal fittings that reminded me of the work of HR Giger. Noticing that I was particularly impressed by the belt she said,
“I had this custom made or you. I’ve been planning our little visit to Creatrice for a while.”
“Wow, it’s fantastic.”
She made no reply but simply smiled.
I quickly put the clothes on. All of them fitted me perfectly. Then she pulled a shoe box out of the cupboard which turned out to contain a pair of black leather boots – just my size of course. I put these on and we were ready to go.
“Shall we take The Tube?”
I looked at her with uncertainty. Travel by public transport looking like this? I thought.
“Ah, what the hell, let’s. It’s not like anyone is going to recognize us.”