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Getting to know Amy (Part 2)

I start to find out just what Amy does want.
It was the following week, and once again I had set off on my weekly long walk through the Chilterns. I went out through Shardeloes and up towards Beamond End, then heading off further through open grassland and through some woods, once again descending into the valley. There was a sense of anticipation, combined with apprehension, as I neared the village where Amy lived.

Would she be in? Had she remembered that this was when we’d talked about meeting again? and what were those needs that she had talked so enigmatically about?

These thoughts had gone through my mind as I walked through woods and meadows, and when I finally arrived at her front door, I was excited, both mentally and physically. I knocked.

No answer. I knocked again and waited.

There was still no answer, but I remembered that she enjoyed gardening, so I went round the back to look for her, and found her kneeling at the bottom of the garden, digging out some weeds from a flower bed.

She looked up at my approach, and her smile lit up the morning for me, as she scrambled to her feet.

“Oh Chris, I’m so sorry, I lost track of time!”

She came into my arms and we kissed, briefly before she told me we should go in, as she didn’t want her neighbour to see.

“Coffee?” she asked brightly, washing her hands at the sink.

“Please” I replied, and soon we were once again on the sofa in her living room where we had made love last week.

“I wasn’t sure that you’d come again.” she told me, sipping her coffee.

“Really?, why ever would you think that.” I replied.

“Well, I was worried that when I said I had other needs, that you would think me odd. I’ve really regretted saying that just before I had to run off.”

“If anything,” I replied, “that remark has intrigued me all week, and this morning as I was walking here, it quite excited me.”

“But you don’t know what they are! You’ll probably just want to walk away, if I tell you. And I wouldn’t want that after last week, we made love pretty well, didn’t we?”

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Amy. We did fit well, making love to you was amazing, and I can’t wait to do it again. But if you want more than that, then why not, I’m no inhibited old guy, you know.”

“I do know that, I sensed it when we first met, so yes, let’s go upstairs this time, and maybe you’ll start to see what I am on about.”

So saying, she took my hand and led me upstairs.

It was a small house, just one bedroom upstairs and another door that I assumed was the bathroom, both leading off a small landing. Unlike the downstairs, the landing walls were covered with prints of paintings, mostly by Old Masters, and mostly of nude women, some voluptuous, others slimmer. The themes were all erotic, and I paused, taking in what I was seeing, as she stood quietly beside me.

“These are…lovely,” I told her, “and interesting, the more you look at them, the more there seems to be in them.”

I paused in front of one, by an artist whose name I didn’t recognise, and realised that what at first glance looked like a picture of a reclining nude, was in fact a picture of the woman masturbating, and in the throes of orgasm.

“Wow,” I said, “she looks like she is having a good time.”

“I think she is,” Amy replied, “now what about this one?”, opening the door to her bedroom, and indicating the painting just inside the door.

It was, on the face of it, a painting of a nude, sitting carelessly on the knee of a smiling man, set probably in the 18 th century. But then, on closer inspection, you realise that her hand is around the man’s erect member.

“Mmmm……yes,” I smiled at her, “I can live with that.”

I took hold of her then, and sitting on the edge of the bed, pulled her down to sit on my knee, just like the woman in the picture. She giggled, and her hand went to my zip, and extracted what was by now a very swollen cock, and gripping it in her fist started to pump up and down.

“So that was the first picture,” she grinned, “take a look and see what else we might do.”

I have never seen a room before whose walls were covered with erotic pictures, and as I looked around, my eyes moved to a large picture hanging opposite the bed. It was of a beautiful nude woman, around 25 in age, blindfolded, gagged, hands bound behind her back, just kneeling, and facing the viewer. I realised it was a photograph, not a painting, and said so to Amy, whose hands were still squeezing me slowly.

“Yes, that’s my favourite, do you know who she was?”

I looked closely, and my mouth dropped open.

“Amy, is that you? I think it is, the look in your eyes, obviously you have..matured..but yes, that’s you isn’t it?”

She nodded, and lowered her eyes. I now realised what this was all about, and my anticipation increased, as did the rigidity of my cock, if that was at all possible.

“And these needs of yours?”

She nodded, and looked up, her eyes conveying the question she wanted me to answer.

“Yes.” I said.

I took her hands away from my cock, which had stopped moving as she faced the questions that would determine the rest of our relationship.

“Yes, what?” she asked nervously.

“Just YES.”

“Now undress, whilst I look at you,” I told her, and lay back on the bed, to see how she would react. She slowly stripped, sensuously, with just a hint of tease, until she stood naked in front of me, her full breasts pink tipped and hard.

I let her stand there for a while, telling her not to move. Then I stood up and undressed myself, down to just my boxer shorts, and came close to Amy, walking round her slowly, so she would start to wonder what I was up to. On my third circling, I paused and ran my finger down her spine, just curling it under her tailbone but ignoring her asshole. I blew gently on the back of her neck and was rewarded to see her shiver and clench her ass cheeks around my finger.

“I think we’ll take this slowly,” I told her, “but we’ll get to where you want to be, or maybe beyond.”

As I spoke that last word, I gave a sharp slap to her buttocks, and saw the skin redden there.

“Don’t move.” I ordered, and walked around her once again. This time I was close enough so that my hairy chest dragged across her erect nipples, and then moved behind her once more.

Slap! This time it was a bit harder, and she had to steel herself to prevent her from staggering, but the look on her face told me that this was not a problem for her.

“Good.” I said, and took her by her hands, both clasped in my large hand, and laid her face down on the bed.

I pulled open the draw in a bedside table, and found a light scarf amongst a variety of other things, and tied her hands to the bedhead with it.

“Oh yes, please…..ughhh..mmm….” was all she could say as I stuffed another scarf into her mouth and tied it behind her head.

I had noticed how she had reacted to my slaps on her bottom before, so I thought that I would continue. Not too hard, just enough, each time my hand, flat and hard, hit her skin, she moaned into her gag, and her body shuddered. After a short while her bottom was red, and each time she shuddered, she drew her knees up a bit, and I could see her juices dripping down the inside of her thighs and onto the bed sheets.

I was full and rigid, so hard it was almost painful, so I curled an arm under her thighs and raised her up fully onto her knees. She knew what was to come, she thought, as I heard a mewling sound through the gag and she opened herself fully to me.

My hand cupped her sex, a firm grip that squeezed her lips tight against her clit, and once again she moaned. I drove in and out of her, deep into her sopping pussy, ignoring the initial orgasm that my rough entry had caused, and built up the depth and speed so that she would orgasm again. She did soon enough, and came continuously for several minutes, but I wasn’t finished yet.

Pulling out, I ran my cock, sticky with her juices up and around her asshole, my hands stretching her cheeks wide, until I could just see inside her anal passage. Once again, with her love juices easing the entry, my cock pushed itself into her body, this time slow and deep, down in a single long slide.

Through the gag, I could hear her voice, guttural with lust, simply say a long drawn out yeeeeesssss.

With long deliberate strokes I reamed her ass, so tight and so very hot, until I could hold back no longer and as I emptied my balls until my cream spilled out, she once again came, her body shaking so much I feared she might tear my cock out at its root.

Moving reluctantly away from her, I released her hands and gag, and kissed her deeply, enjoying her moaning in her throat as our mouths joined.

“Clean me up.”

She went to her task with a willingness that both surprised and delighted me, sucking and licking at every part of my cock and balls, until I was clean and she had swallowed all of our juices.

I pulled her into my arms and she curled her body into mine, looked up, and after I had kissed her tenderly, she simply said, “You understand.”

Then, lowering her eyes, “Master.”

“Yes,” I said, “that is how it will be.”

We talked then, and when it was time for me to go, I opened the drawer again to replace the scarves, and looked more closely at the variety of things there.

“Next week, I think we’ll explore some of these.”

“Please, Master, yes, please!”

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