December 12th
It was mid-December
when wealthy businessman Oliver Beaumont was in Scotland for the funeral of an old
family friend.
The wake
was held at the Glen Carrick Castle, after what he considered to be a Proper
funeral, where everyone wore black, the men in black suits and ties and the
women in the whole ensemble.
Which was
nice, it was tradition, he liked tradition, he didn’t like informal funerals
because he also liked women in black, and he liked everything to be black, and
he always imagined their underwear to be black whether they were or not.
He gave the
room a cursory glance and all the women were in black, which gave him a bit of
a semi.
Before he
got himself a drink, he decided to relieve himself, before he got so aroused
that he wouldn’t be able to.
It was when
he re-entered the hall that he first spotted Pandora Molesworth,
who was talking to the vicar, she was a good-looking young woman
in her mid-twenties, brown hair, quite tall, very elegant and a lovely figure.
The fact that he imagined she was wearing all the gear beneath the
black dress made her even more attractive and he detected a slight hint of a
trouser tickle.
His imagination then ran away with him as he pictured her in black bra
and panties, black tights or even better stockings, a lacy teddy, French silk
Cami knickers, Basques, Corsets, camisoles, chemises, silk drawers, thongs,
satin bodices, and garters.
His mind was in a spin and as he studied her across the room
harbouring thoughts of the hidden delights and then she looked straight at him
and blushed as if she knew what he was thinking.
After he lost sight of her in the crowd he went off in search of a
drink and then he started to picture every woman in the ballroom in stockings and
suspenders and mused on the nature of each accompanying undergarment.
He spotted a couple of women in the room who’s under things were not a
mystery to him following previous gatherings and the reminiscence of those
sensual interludes resulted in increased arousal.
He decided to mingle with the crowd to try and take his mind off black
underwear, it didn’t work so he looked for the lovely brunette again but to no
avail.
As the
afternoon wore on and the mourners began to disperse, he returned to his room to
freshen up and change into something more casual.
Later in
the day he was sitting at the Hotel bar, drinking a large Gin and Tonic, and
doing a spot of people watching, but the bar was so empty he exhausted that
exercise in less than five minutes.
So, he
turned his thoughts to the lovely brunette girl he’d seen earlier
and mused
on the possibly of spending some quality time expanding her sexual horizons,
and it was just when he was preoccupied imagining a particularly salacious
scenario in his head when a voice broke in.
“Oliver
Beaumont?” they said, and he turned
around to find the voice belonged to the attractive girl from the wake, still
dressed all in black,
“Yes!”
“Obviously, you don’t
recognize me” she said and laughed, so he thought it must be some woman he’d
slept with at some time and the encounter was so unmemorable he instantly
forgot her, which was embarrassing.
“I’m sorry”
he said “I’m afraid I don’t”
“Pandora
Molesworth” she said “I was sure you’d recognised earlier; you were staring at
me long enough”
“Pandy?” he
exclaimed relieved to find it wasn’t a woman he’d slept with and instantly forgotten,
but a very distant cousin “How lovely to see you”
“Do you
mind if I join you?” she asked.
“Not at
all” he said “please” and gestured to the neighbouring stool.
“Can I get
you a drink?” he asked
“Thank you,
yes,” she said and to the barman who had miraculously appeared “White wine
please”
“And for
you sir?” he asked
“I’ll have
the same again please”
While they
waited for their drinks he said
“You know
it’s hardly surprising that I didn’t recognize you, you have changed a bit
since we last met, and you were only ten at the time”
“I was 14,
it was just after you started at university, but I agree I am a little leaner
than I was then” she pointed out
“So, if you
didn’t recognize me earlier, why were you staring?”
“I wasn’t
aware that I was” he said defensively
“My God you
were mentally undressing me” Pandy said
“Not at
all,” said Oliver
“Then you
were imagining what underwear I had on” she said, and he blushed
“I knew it”
she said triumphantly and laughed a rather delightful laugh
They had a
couple of drinks in the bar and then went into the grill for some supper and
the conversation flowed, mainly consisting of news and stories about the family,
friends, and shared acquaintances.
The meal
came and went as did the coffee and liqueurs and then they got the
distinct impression the restaurant staff had had enough even if they hadn’t.
So, they bade the long-suffering staff a good night, even though it
was almost 1 am and headed, somewhat unsteadily towards their rooms.
Accompanied by raucous laughter they stumbled into the lift and unable
to press the button for the floor that they actually wanted Pandora decided to
hit them all.
“Nightcap” she said abruptly
“What?” he slurred
“Nightcap” she said “let’s go to your room for a Nightcap”
“Why my room?” he asked
“Because it’ll be bigger and better than mine” she replied
“Fare comment”
They reached the third floor and walked rather unsteadily to the door
and once he’d managed to finally use the swipe card correctly the door opened,
and Pandora fell in.
“Are we in the room yet” she said when he helped her to her feet
“Yes, it’s a suite” Oliver said
“It’s huge” she exclaimed
As she had already fallen down once, he sat her down on the sofa and
after some intense negotiations it was decided that coffee was the order of the
day.
Pandora had kicked of
her shoes and was sitting on the sofa with her legs up and he was facing her, also shoeless,
sat on a Regency stripped chair that he had pulled out from under the desk.
So, they sat there in her room drinking copious amounts of coffee and
chatting, during the course of the conversation the subject changed to the
journey home, and then onto personal relationships which was when she suddenly
got upset and tears started to well up in her eyes and then they ran down her
cheeks as she sobbed.
Oliver immediately stepped into action and knelt on the floor beside
her and offered himself up to comfort her with arms open wide.
“I’m sorry” she said gratefully accepting his open arms and burying
her tearstained face in his neck, Oliver made encouraging noises and stroked
her back, but being a shoulder to cry on was the full extent of his expertise
with a teary woman.
They held that position for some time until her sobs began to get
shallower and shallower and eventually abated, but still she held on tightly to
him and began to nuzzle his neck and he could feel her breath on his skin,
which he found very arousing.
While still nuzzling his neck her hands began to caress up and down
his back and her nuzzles turned to kisses, he reciprocated the caressing and
then in an instant her mouth was on his, and her lips were soft, her mouth was
hot, and her tongue was electric.
Pandora’s hands began to claw at his shirt, dragging it free of his
waistband then with great urgency she pulled herself up, so she was seated in
front of him as her fingers fumbled at his shirt buttons.
Then her trembling hands were on his flesh, and she exhaled a sigh
through her nose and then his hands explored her thigh beneath her hem, when
she suddenly broke off
“Stop! It’s
no good” she said
“Hang on
what’s wrong?” he asked
“The same
thing that always bloody happens” she snarled “Nothing”
“I don’t understand” he said “You need to explain in simple terms
because all the blood that powers my brain is now in my trousers”
“It’s simple, I fancy someone, they fancy me, we start the kissing and
cuddling, he gets as hard as iron, and I remain as dry as sandpaper”
“Oh, I see” he said “I don’t think coffee is going to help with this”
He got up and poured them both a brandy and sat next to her on the
sofa.
“So how
long has this been going on?”
“At boarding school, they called me Frigid Freda” she replied, and he
giggled
“Stop it,
it’s not funny,” she said laughing herself
“Oh, it
really is” he responded
“It’s not that I’m unwilling” she said “I really want to, like tonight
I really, really wanted to, as soon as I saw you at the funeral I wanted to,
I’ve wanted to since I was 12, I just don’t get …. wet”
“So have you never….” He began
“I’m not a virgin”, she said indignantly “I’ve done it a few times”
“Sorry”
“The only problem was none of them were particularly pleasurable
experiences” she explained and took another mouthful of brandy “I just don’t
get properly aroused, so they were all pretty much …. dry affairs”
“I’ll apologize in advance for being indelicate” he said “but what
about erm…. Fingering?”
“Oh yes” she said proudly “when I wake up to a moist morning, I take full
advantage of it”
“So, you have orgasmed?”
“Yes, but not the “eyes rolling back into your head” type” she said,
and Oliver got up and refilled their glasses.
When he sat down again, he made a suggestion
“Have you tried girls?”
Pandora just rolled her eyes
“Perhaps you’re gay” he elaborated
“Tried that at boarding school” she retorted “dry as a bone”
When he
didn’t respond Pandora said
“You’re
actually imagining me naked being fondled by schoolgirls, aren’t you?”
“Pretty
much, I can’t lie” he said picturing her sitting on a girl’s face.
Then she
turned to him and kissed him, and the kiss was lingering and provocative and
when she broke off, she put her hand on his lap smiled coyly at him and said,
“I wish I was as turned on as you are”
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