As the days passed and the time for my assignation with Mr Harris drew nearer, I found myself wondering more and more about this strange man. He was not at all attractive, quite unattractive in fact; he was overweight, he was shabby. Some men grow old with dignity and gain a patina of sophistication and experience that can be most alluring; he was simply old, in the untidy way of someone who has let himself go.
And yet he somehow commanded my attention; partly because I was curious as to how he could afford to use escorts so often (he had given no inkling of having private wealth or a well-paying job); partly because I wanted to find out so much more about his relationship with Holly, who may or may not have been his daughter; and partly because his main source of sexual gratification appeared to be watching others, which to my way of thinking meant he could have saved himself a whole lot of money simply by getting stuck into porn videos. This all added up to a mystery that seemed greater than the sum of its parts, a mystery that I felt compelled to penetrate.
My developing obsession with Mr Harris was clearly not healthy for someone in my line of work; Rosie, my Madame, had warned me not to delve too deeply into a client's private life. They pay for our services, we fulfil their fantasies, and there it should end. I was in danger of becoming too personally involved, I know that. No matter, I am confident that I can handle myself well enough not to get too drawn in. I'm young and eager to learn about the ways of the world. What's wrong with that?
Saturday evening finally came, and at ten o'clock I arrived by taxi at the address Rosie had given me. Mr Harris lives in Portobello in one of the large detached houses on the sea front. This is an area that had once been prosperous and thriving, but was now run-down and a little seedy; the splendour of the old merchants' houses and the grand hotels had been lost as fashions had changed and it was no longer a favoured place for holidays. I stood on the doorstep of this imposing house and could feel the wind of desolation sweep past. I shivered, not with cold but with something more like apprehension.
I rang the doorbell but there was no reply. In fact, the windows were all shuttered up and there was no sign of life anywhere so far as I could tell. I had been prepared for this, however, and on turning the door-knob found that I could just walk straight in. I entered a dim vestibule area, more like a corridor, with four or five doors leading off it. There were two shaded lamps casting a suppressed glow over dark furnishings and wall-hanging tapestries; I felt as if I'd stepped into my grandmother's old house.
As my eyes grew used to the dim light, I noticed that on a small table near one of the doors there was a silver plate with a card on it. I picked the card up and read: “Welcome to my home, Evelyn. Please take a seat in this room, make yourself comfortable and someone will be with you shortly. Yours, Mr Harris.”
I shrugged my shoulders. Whatever game he was playing, I was happy to go along with it; in fact, I was almost starting to enjoy myself. I went into the room indicated by the card and again found a dimly lit space with plush furnishings. On one wall there was a very large mirror extending almost from floor to ceiling, while on the wall next to it a large screen was showing a pornographic film, the sound very muted. Most of the light in the room actually came from this screen, and as I got used to it I almost felt like I was being bathed in warm milk. It was not at all unpleasant.
I helped myself to a drink from the decanter next to the only sofa in the room and sat down to await developments. Having not much else to do, I paid closer attention to the film; I don't watch a lot of porn myself, finding it generally too artificial and detached for my tastes. This film, however, was a little out of the ordinary, for me at any rate; it had an amateurish feel about it and showed four or five couples screwing each other in someone's living room. From time to time the couples would swap partners; they certainly all seemed to be enjoying themselves and the fact that they were so clearly ordinary couples gave it a certain raunchiness that I miss in professional porn.
I was so engrossed in watching the film that I didn't hear anyone enter the room, but to my surprise I suddenly heard a familiar voice.
“Enjoying the film, Evelyn?”
“Holly! How good to see you. I wasn't expecting you.”
“Well, here I am. And I'm very glad to meet you again. Stand up and let me get a good look at you.”
As I stood, Holly came up to me and took both my hands in hers, casting appraising glances up and down my body.
“Don't you look the part?” she said. “I like the thigh-high leather boots and the mini-skirt – very sexy. Come here, I need to feel you and kiss you.”
We stood there and french-kissed, getting to know each others' taste all over again. She broke off and turned me round so that we were both facing the mirror; her hands reached round and cupped my breasts as she kissed and nibbled on my ears and neck. One by one she undid the buttons on my blouse, revealing the black leather bra I'd decided to wear; it had small zips over the nipples, inviting exploring hands to go a little further. Holly needed no further encouragement and, still from behind, unzipped first one bra cup then the other, exposing my nipples which by now were hard and stiff. She tweaked the nipples between her forefingers and thumbs, making them stand out even further.
It not only felt good, having her hands on my tits like this, but it looked good as well; seeing myself being played with in the mirror was making me wet between the legs. Holly must have sensed this, because she unzipped my skirt, letting it pool at my feet, to reveal the skimpy leather thong I'd put on to match the bra. In my stockings and high heels, all in black, I couldn't help but admire myself as I stared at my reflection and felt Holly's hands working first over my tits, then reaching down to let her fingers slide under my thong.
“Mmmm, you're so wet, Evelyn, such a horny young girl,” she said, and after coating her finger with my pussy juices, tasted it with obvious relish. “Just as I remember,” she said. “So sweet and delicious. Now sit on my face.”
She lay down on the floor between my legs, and I knelt down so that I could lower my pussy onto her waiting lips and tongue. I pulled my panties to one side so that her tongue could more easily find my wet slit. I was more aroused than I'd thought, as the first touch of her tongue on my pussy was electric, sending shivers through my whole body.
I didn't know whether to look down at her as she lapped the juices from my cunt, or to watch our image reflected in the mirror. I'd never really seen myself like this before except in photographs, and it was turning me on no end to see myself almost as if in a film. And as I turned my head to the screen on the other wall, images of girls sucking each other had replaced the previous couples; the whole room was filled with lesbian love, Holly eating me out as I watched in the mirror and then glimpsed the film of girls doing similar things. I moved from one image to the next and found something raw and exciting in each of them. Eventually, I had to cum, though, and in one huge shudder I looked down and came all over Holly's sweet lips and tongue. It was the nearest I've come to squirting, and all my cum gushed out in a river. I couldn't resist and simply had to taste it, so I lay by Holly's side and kissed her, licking my juice off her lips and tongue.
She was still fully clothed, but not for long. I quickly stripped her of her flimsy dress and inserted first one, then two fingers inside her cunt, which was almost as wet as mine. I kissed her and kneaded her tits with one hand, while with the other I penetrated her and started finger-fucking her. She, however, wanted more than that and, taking my hand in hers, pulled it into her pussy deeper and deeper. I had four fingers inside her now, but she clearly wanted more; turning my whole attention to her demanding pussy, I managed to squeeze my whole hand into her slit, and still she wanted more, pulling me inside. I was soon buried wrist-deep inside her cunt, something I'd never done before, and she was writhing with pleasure as I pushed in and out. I fisted my hot girl until she came all over my hand; when I took it out it was shiny with her pussy-juice and and there was plenty to lick off. She wanted some too, and let her tongue run over my fingers to lap up her sweet honey.
We lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, sticky and wet and still thrilling from our orgasms. The film had stopped by now and it felt like we were all alone again.
Soon, however, she reminded me that Mr Harris had brought me here for a reason and she asked me to get dressed again. Once I'd rearranged myself and was looking as sexily presentable as when I had first arrived, Holly took something out of her bag.
“Evelyn, would you mind wearing this?”
It was a leather dog-collar with silver studs. “No, of course not. Let's put it on and see.”
It really added to the leather look, and we both admired myself in the mirror.
“And one small accessory,” she continued, taking out a silver chain and attaching it to the collar. “There, that's perfect. Now you're my little pet and I can lead you to the next room.”
For some reason, in spite of having just cum, this was turning me on again. It felt good to be led like a pet, to be treated as a plaything who was there to do her mistress's bidding.
“Time to go to the main event,” Holly said, leading me from the room by the collar and chain.
She took me to the adjacent room, and as she led me in I gasped at what I could see. There were half a dozen men in there, of a variety of ages, all dressed in suits sitting round the sides of the room. In the middle of the room was a satin-covered bed and on two opposite walls were curtains that could be drawn open and closed by silk-tasselled cords. To one side, dressed in a conventional dinner-jacket and black bow-tie, stood Mr Harris, his hair now carefully groomed so that he looked quite different from the shabby individual I'd met before.
In the corner of the room was a bin full of crumpled tissues; only then did I notice the unmistakable aroma of fresh semen which permeated the room.
