Page 10 of Be Careful What You Wish For

pth in more ways than one. His was the voice of experience. Despite his gentle reassurance his words were commanding. Besides, she couldn’t help but enjoy the feel of his hands and what they were doing to her under the water.

‘Eyes closed... and relax. Empty your head of everything but the here and now. Feel the sensation, try to climb into that experience, make it your own.’

One hand held her steady, firm on her lower back. But a thumb now rested on the lips of her vagina. Fingers climbed inside, exploring the wetness... and beyond. Smoothly they reached with one, then two digits, setting up a rhythm. In... and out... and in... and out... and in, turning this way and that for a moment, then starting over; in... and out... and in... and out... and in...

Her legs involuntarily opened, widening to allow entry. Her mind drifted gradually to some far-flung corner, her senses aroused, tipping her gradually into the chasmic orgasm beyond.

‘Now I’m going to roll you onto your tummy. Keep your eyes closed, your mind clear. You’re doing just fine.’

His words broke into her reverie as if from a long, long way off. Even before she realised it a hand cupped her face just above the surface of the water, while another explored her buttocks, kneading them like two pats of dough. Her body had a mind of its own, opening to accept him like a welcome friend.

‘Try bending your knees under the water, keeping your legs wide... that’s it... that’s better. Now, doesn’t that feel good?’

Fingers curled into her anus, snaking into the passage, picking up the rhythm, sliding in... and out... and in... and out... and in. They paused for long moments, waiting for the violent trembling to abate, drawing her to the very edge, holding her there... then moving deliberately on.

Frustrated, needy, aching with desire, with a desperate sense of urgency, her body butted against his fingers, driving them in still harder, deeper. Her whole body felt alive, anticipating the now inevitable climax.

Over the ensuing five minutes or so her body exploded with feeling. The hand holding her face relaxed, while sudden explosive gasps escaped her lips and tremors spasmed in her tummy and thighs.

She wanted to pause for breath. But he wouldn’t let her. Fingers relentlessly wriggled and squirmed inside, before he once more turned her, entering her vagina to continue the same.

‘Please... please, I can’t. No more. Please?’

‘Yes you can. Of course you can. All you have to do is let go... just let it come. Feel it... accept it for what it is. Trust me. You know you want this to happen. Enjoy the ride.’

The feeling now was so great it threatened to overwhelm her. But his voice was so calming, so commanding, it demanded he be obeyed. It was as if he was drawing from her every nuance of emotion, twisting it into one firm tight ball... then releasing it so suddenly the ball burst like a bubble into a thousand different pieces, each with a feeling of its own.

She floated within and without for the longest time, while slowly he led her back to the steps at the shallow end of the pool, treading waters now silent and still.

He half carried her to lay her still naked in the steam room, where he set the temperature high.

‘Relax.’

His voice was gentle, calming, soothing. Hands smoothed back her hair to caress her body, lying trusting and open beside him on the wooden slats. He could feel her pulses race. Her body gave little jerks while he caressed and soothed, waiting for her urges to quiet and her senses to normalise once more.

‘Now, rest awhile.’

A smile touched the moon of her lips. And she sighed... a simple exhalation of breath... a sigh that said it all.

‘Rest. You have done well. Right now we’re simply going to lie here, just the two of us, for twenty minutes or so. Then we’re going to the Jacuzzi to prepare for a massage. It’s your pores now which need to be encouraged to open in order your skin gets the full deep-cleansing it needs.’

Suddenly she was tired, so tired. Her eyes closed. She drifted into a dreamless sleep far, far away from the nightmares she was used to.

Later, much later, she lay facedown on a black couch, trying to give herself to the hands teasing and releasing tense, knotted neck and back muscles. They held her head firm, her hair up as they rubbed her shoulders. Then, folding her arms above her, they followed the lines of her body down towards her bottom. A hand slapped each cheek twice sharply. She gasped at the suddenness of the assault, turning her head in clear indignation.

‘Hey, what...?’

Any remark she had been about to make was cut short by two further smacks resounding on her bottom. He held her firm, pushing her down into the couch.

Her bottom smarted with pain, but then unexpectedly was stroked and smoothed, caressed and creamed, while the hands worked slowly back up to her top.

The cheeks of her bottom trembled now in anticipation. It was the strangest feeling. She realised suddenly she wanted him to spank her again, because the pleasure-pain experience which was new brought on greater urges, and a longing, an aching desire in her groin.

He knew how to turn her on, turn her off, turn her on again at will. And he practised this pleasure over and over again. He could play her senses; tricking her into believing in the loving and pleasing, changing suddenly to feelings that left a strange mix of fear and anticipation, excitement and dread. And it was the not knowing that brought her on all the more to a place deep within herself she had never been or felt before.

She hid her face in confusion. But the rhythm of his hands, the gentleness accompanied in turn by firm strokes aroused and stimulated her to a level beyond which she knew. She found it hard not to wriggle and squirm and open as she felt that now familiar wetness seeping once more between her legs.

Again he brought her to the edge... always to the edge, never more. Then he was turning her face-upward to gaze into his sultry brown-black eyes. He knew! He knew exactly what he was doing, messing with her emotions, and he was pleased at her response. As his hands explored her face, cleansed, moisturised, massaged, again she felt the familiar tingling in her groin and the inevitable wetness that followed. It was a truly delightful sensation, laying at the mercy of one whose touch only added to her desire. And as he tweaked and peaked her nipples, moulding and shaping her breasts around them, she was powerless to prevent it happening, even had she wanted to. She loved the feeling of powerlessness, of helplessness, of giving someone else control.

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