The Englishwoman Ch. 02

The telephone rang. Victoria James looked over at it and let it ring again. Then a third and a fourth time. She knew the longer she waited the more anxious the caller would become. She knew he was watching her. Finally, on the tenth ring she leaned over and calmly removed the receiver from the cradle, paused, and then said, "Hello, young man..." in her sultry English accent, "I told you to wait until I call you," she admonished.

"Its been hard," Dante stated.

"Yes, I see you watching, waiting to see me each night," she interrupted, "I assume our little tryst the other day heightened your interest just a bit, yes?"

"I've wanted to call you each night since. I've fought the urge, fought it hard, as you requested."

"Well, I anticipated this call... and thought of not answering... Now, why should I continue listening?"

"I am calling because tonight you look exceptional... I just had to tell you that," he confessed. And he was right, she was dressed well, dressed to seduce, her lithe body relaxing in a chair against the wall centered before the window for only him to see, the lights set low yet she was perceptible, adorned in a black brimmed hat, her fire engine red lips and finger nails clearly set off against her pale skin, her neck jeweled with a single strand of pearls, a sheer leopard print silk blouse, the top three buttons opened and her breast bone exposed, a knee length tan skirt that hugged her bum just right, light tan stockings and leopard print pumps. As he watched her each night a cauldron of smoldering passion and dirty lust raged within him. She knew it, knew it well. She intentionally caused it. She wanted him to melt at the core and liquefy into a critical mass over her.

"I did it to entice you... and see, it worked," she quipped with vixen moxie and the giggle of a woman toying with a boy.

"But wait, there is more," he said fearful she was about to hang up.

"Oh? More? Go on..." she replied with feigned surprise and interest.

"I have this desire, a fantasy, and tonight your attire fits the bill, that is why I also called," he said peering at her from the bedroom window of his Italian beach side villa into hers, the direct view slightly obstructed by her slatted blinds. She gazed back at his dark room and saw the red light of the hand held hanging in mid air by his head. It always told her his location.

""Oh? A fantasy?" she replied with curiosity in her voice, "Well, Dante, continue," she encouraged.

"I want to kneel before you, at your feet. I want to kiss you starting at the shoe and trace up along your leg as you look down at me, slow and gentle worshiping kisses up to your knees, those beautiful stocking clad knees which right now are together and clenched tight... I want to part them, raise the skirt and...."

"Young man, it sounds delightful, but you are moving to quick for me. I know what you want. Let me take over," she said interrupting and assuming control, "I would bring your head to my lap and lay it there for you to rest in the comfort of my presence, cradled in my arms as I run my fingers through your delicious black hair, slowly stroking and admiring it. Are you touching yourself?"

"Yes."

"Good. As you rest your head, I tell you I understand how pained you are not being able to have me despite seeing me every night from the distance. Having finally touched me all over and now not able to touch me at all... and all you can do is touch yourself... I know how you dwell on me, probably more so than ever before, fixated on that moment in time when we were joined as one, meshed in rapture.... that single solitary moment you try to recapture time and again, reminded of it when you leave your house in the morning and when you return home at night from work, each time hoping to see me in my yard and receive some kind of recognition of our moment, maybe even a little praise for your abilities... and when you do not see me you are disappointed and limited to sitting in your room hoping to catch a glimpse of me at night. Yes, I know your pain young man. I am creating it, once again.... and trust me, you must understand, there is a reason for all this.... and it is not out of guilt that I show this compassion tonight, no I have no guilt. No, it is the benefits I, rather we, derive from my deviant behavior, the deprivation you suffer as I fan your frustrations... you must learn internal discipline and self control to please me... Tell me my pet, does it feel good, your head resting in my lap, my finger stroking your head, teasing you behind the ear, your tortured soul comforted by my caring touch and soothing words?"

"Yes" he softly replied mesmerized by how well she knew his feelings and subtly exercised such control.

They sat in silence for a moment then she said, "I must tell you, that little spanking you gave me the other day is still with me.... I relive it daily... I recall how you put me over your knees in the open court yard after having taken me, how you oiled my bum and administered the punishment, your hand and the sun searing my tender flesh while fondling my sodden cunt and violating my tight arse, holding me on the edge of release as you made me confess to being a 'naughty little whore' while I squirmed and begged to cum, conflicted by a sublime yet beautiful mix of pleasure and pain.... I went home and sat in a cool bath to sooth the burn. Despite all the searing pain, a burning desire still raged between my thighs, one to have you take me again, and I could not resist touching myself... I came over and over until I collapsed from exhaustion... its been a few days now, the pain has mostly worn off... sometimes I still feel the burn on my bum but always the one between my thighs... I should reward you for your trust and obedience," she said as she raised the hem of the skirt revealing the lacy stocking tops and her heavenly bare thigh, "shall I raise it some more?" she asked.

"Please," he whispered.

She rose and bunched the skirt around her hips and sat back down,"Can you see me in detail from over there?"

"Sort of."

"You should be closer... to see my panties. They are sheer and there is a soft polka dot pattern. If you were here, you could see through them... and I would part my thighs ever so slightly and lay your head atop of them and I would allow you to gently rub your face against the smooth silk and drizzle tender kisses on me through the garment."

"Could I bury my face on you?" he asked, "and smell you?"

"I would allow that too, and if you were good I would let you pull down the elastic and rub your face against my bush," she confirmed, "are you still touching yourself?"

"Yes."

"Are you close?"

"Getting there," he replied.

"Do you want me?"

"Very much so," he replied and watched her lift a leg over the chair arm and pull back the underside of the elastic before sliding a hand behind the silk to touch herself.

"Better?"

"Yes," he replied in a shorter breath as he watched her toy herself for him.

"I need it darker," she said as she turned off her lights, "I'm very wet... and I am circling the slick edges of the opening. It is a shame you cannot see me doing it. Would you like to be here tasting me, knowing my smell? I remember how big you are, how it felt sliding in and out of me as you meted out your desires... how helpless I was as you thrust and parried seeking to sate yourself at my insistence... Would you like some more of that tonight?"

"Oh you are killing me... yes, of course," he moaned, "I want you so badly."

"I am so wet. These fingers are nice but not as nice as you. If you were here I would receive you as I lay on my back, helpless to your strength and dominance. Would you like that?"

"Oh yes," he hissed so close to the edge.

"... my legs up and flailing... heels pointed to the ceiling as you pummel me with that big young cock and I cry out your name. 'Ooh Dante, take me,' I would gasp as you voraciously thrust... Are you there yet? Want to cum for me?"

"Oh yes...I am so close, please take me there," he moaned.

Then, Victoria James ever so cruelly, silently rested the receiver in the cradle.

Dante lay in his bed momentarily confused before realizing what she had done to him. He sat in the dark for what seemed an eternity scorning himself for calling her and breaching her directions.

Minutes passed as he lay in anguish. Then came a stern knocking at the front door. Dante slowly raised his head, cursing whoever was there at this hour of the night. The knocking persisted as he threw on some clothes and staggered to the front door and opened it. There stood Victoria James. She stepped into the house and grabbed his shirt, bunching it in her fist as she led him to the nearby dining room.

"Take it off," she commanded as she bunched up her skirt, dropped her panties, sat on the dining room table and spread her thighs.

"Look at it. Do you want it?"

"Yes Victoria," he hungrily insisted.

"Its Mrs. James to you...." she hissed lightly smacking him across the face correcting him, "Now touch yourself, young man. I too like to watch."

Dante complied, eager to please, his cock swelling as he watched her slowly sink her fingers into her hairy furrow.

"Faster," she derided him, "... I would rather have you than these fingers but right now you have not earned it... Want to greedily take me? You can almost anticipate it, can't you?... Come close, bring your lovely face close to mine, lean over me, let me feel your breath," she said as she leaned back and raised her knees, "Go ahead, press that head against my lips, just don't enter me, at least not yet.... that is it... stroke it, faster, let me feel that head rub against me, tease me with it. Shall I let you enter me?"

"Please," he begged.

"Just a little more, young man... keep pleasing me... now jerk it faster..."

"But please," he pleaded to no avail as his head rubbed up and down against her wet slit, the warmth teasing his raging desires to enter her and cum.

"Am I a great seductress?" she demanded.

"Yes, Mrs. James," he replied.

"The best?" she asked.

"Yes, the best."

"You better not be saying that to placate me Dante or I will end this right frigging now."

"No, no, I mean it Mrs. James, really, nobody has seduced me- or ever will- this well, ever, I swear."

"Not even those hot young women you parade in and out of here?"

"Not even them Mrs. James."

"Tell me, am I naughty?"

"Mrs. James, but please, I'm going to cum..."

"Not yet... Now, am I naughty," she demanded.

"You are so naughty."

"How naughty? Am I a naughty little whore?"

"Yes, you are a naughty little whore."

"Am I YOUR naughty little whore, Dante?"

"Yes," he gasped.

"Want to fuck your naughty little whore?" she hissed.

"Yes."

"Now?"

"Oh shit, yes, now.."

"... and cum inside me?"

"Yes," he said, "right now..."

"Say 'please', Dante."

"Please" Mrs. James."

"Please what?"

"Please may I have you, Mrs. James?"

"Dirtier, Dante, like you crave me..."

"Please may fuck you Mrs. James?"

"No, even dirtier..."

"Please may I.... oh, shit," he gasped as he released, splattering ropes of his thick cum against her spread lips.

"Oh Dante, what a shame," Victoria James quipped, silently satisfied as he spilled it on her. "And I was just about to let you enter me," she lied as she reached down and tasted his seed.

Victoria James stood, pulled down her skirt, picked up her undergarments and proceeded to walk out not saying a word. Dante stood helplessly frozen, his eyes fixated on the backs of her sexy silk clad legs. He thought of how he would have enjoyed taking her in that hot outfit and his lost opportunity.

Victoria James opened the door and turned to him before leaving, "Dante, I need to reconsider this arrangement... I am not sure if you are deserving anymore...."