He closed the door and whispered angrily, ‘What’s going on Tash? I don’t remember us getting engaged?’
‘Of course you don’t, silly.’ She took his hand and looked at him with those big blue-grey eyes. He could feel himself melting.
‘What’s a girl supposed to do? I love you. I know you’re frustrated because you want to get me to bed, but what about me? Don’t you think I feel frustrated too, rubbing against your – your thing when we kiss and wishing I could have it inside me.’
His ‘old boy’ would have leapt into a full erection, had it not been restricted by tight underpants.
‘Why don’t we then,’ he groaned, pushing against her.
She rubbed her stomach against his swollen penis and looked up at him with tears in her eyes.
‘Because I can’t. I've promised myself I won’t have sex until I marry. And – and I want to marry you. And this house is on the market. And Gwen wants me to have it. And I thought it would be a lovely place for us to live. And – and, you won’t ask me!’ She was sobbing now, beating her clenched fists on his chest and he felt like a real lowlife. This girl loved him and wanted him. He loved her – what the hell.
‘Okay, okay.’ He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. ‘Will you marry me?’
She hugged him close. ‘Yes, yes, yes.’ She stifled a sob and pressed the side of her head to his chest. He felt her hand reaching for his penis and she giggled.
‘We’re going to have to do something about this though.’
‘What do you have in mind?’ he croaked.
‘We could forget the Fox Inn and go straight back to my place, Debbie’s away visiting her parents in Bath and she’s taken Kate, our house mate with her.
From that point on he could not care less about the rest of the cottage. If she wanted it, she could have it. He was on a promise!
Over a cup of tea, Natasha told Mrs Parsons they would buy the cottage, they just needed time to make the financial arrangements. Mrs Parsons beamed and told them how happy she was that it was going to such a lovely couple. She chatted on interminably, but eventually they managed to make their excuses and scamper away.
They retraced their tracks across the fields. The wooing over, they strode purposefully through the snow in silence.
A small brass plate next to the front door of number 27 Back Street, in a Victorian terrace behind Hamsworth High Street, was the only indication that it was also the office of DebTash Lingerie and Corsetry. They fell into an embrace as soon as they closed the door. Then, after hanging her sheepskin coat in the hallway and unbuttoning his jacket to unwind her scarf, Natasha took him by the hand, led him through the living room to the narrow staircase, giving him a guided tour as they ascended. On the first floor, she pointed through an open door a large double bed with cuddly toys propped against a pink headboard.
‘That’s Debbie’s room.’
She opened a door on the opposite side of the small landing.
‘This is where our clients try on their garments.’
He glimpsed an ornate full-length mirror and a narrow single bed with a red corset laid out on it, but he was in too much of a hurry to register any other detail. He followed her up the next flight of stairs.
‘My room is right at the top, so there's another lot of stairs. We use the two rooms on this floor as our work- space.
‘Where’s Kate’s room then?’ he whispered.
Natasha giggled. ‘She sleeps with Debbie, didn’t I tell you?’
‘You mean they’re…?’
‘Of course, didn’t you guess?’
Barrie had met Debbie several times and no, he wouldn’t have guessed she was a lesbian. She looked all woman, in fact he quite fancied her. But, what about Natasha, was she a lesbian too? After all, they had been friends through college.
For the second time that day she seemed to read his mind and turned to face him on the landing. ‘And no, just in case you’re wondering, I’m not that way inclined. Debbie knows and respects that. We’re the best of friends with a very good working relationship. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest that she has that preference, it’s her business.’
They climbed the last flight of stairs to the bedroom on the third floor. It was a spacious attic room with a single bed. The gold corset, which she’d worn for the website photograph, was displayed on a half model in the corner of the room. He asked her if she would wear it for him. Later she said, helping him take off his jacket. By this time he had a stonking hard on which began to hurt as Natasha stepped out of her jeans, took off her sweater and stood in front of him in fine lace underwear.
‘That’s not very practical for this cold weather,’ he said with a grin. She smiled back. God she was beautiful and her skin was a light golden colour, not honey as in the website image. She stretched out on the bed and held her arms out for him. He stripped down to his straining underpants and joined her. They kissed passionately as she rubbed herself against his erection. Then she rolled over on top of him and gently pulled down the front of his underpants to release his straining member. He reached around her back to undo her bra, only to discover it fastened at the front. With a twist of her slender fingers she did the job for him and the bra dropped away to reveal a pair of exquisite breasts. He placed his hands on them and she moaned softly as he caressed her nipples. He took one hand away and attempted to pull her panties down, but she shook her head, giving him an emphatic no. Then, straddling him and taking hold of his penis in both hands she placed the head carefully over the silk gusset to protect her virginity. He could not penetrate more than an inch. He hoped desperately that the thin material would give way, but it held and she rocked herself to a wonderfully noisy climax which, although it seemed to last forever, did not create enough friction for him to ejaculate. She kissed him on the lips and moved down the bed covering his body with kisses. He closed his eyes; was she going to give him a blowjob? He waiting in eager anticipation, but she stopped short and he felt her hands gently begin to massage. He opened his eyes to look down towards his towering erection which she was lovingly working on. As juices began to flow from the tip, she delicately used a finger to spread them, lubricating down and around the head. Her slow methodical strokes were driving him crazy but he did not want to come. He told her he wanted to wait until he could make love to her properly. She shook her head, smiled her lovely smile and lightly pressed with her long fingernails as she continued the long slow strokes. He almost screamed at the moment of ejaculation. She held his penis in both hands, fascinated by the lengthy spurts.
‘I bet there’s plenty more where that came from.’ She giggled like a naughty schoolgirl and scrambled up the bed to plant a kiss on his cheek.
‘Would you like me to do it again?’
‘I would rather make love to you properly.’
‘I would rather you did too, but…well, I mean… we’re going to have to proceed very carefully. Just how big is it?
She giggled again, rolled lightly off the bed, plucking a handful of tissues from a box on her bedside table with one hand and picking up a tape measure from the dressing table with the other.
‘I think we ought to measure it, don’t you?’
He looked down at his shrinking member as she jumped back on the bed.
‘I’m not sure this is a good time.’
She knelt over him, patted his penis dry with a tissue and crooked a finger under the shrunken head. It began to move in the right direction. It never took much for him to achieve an erection.
‘Good boy!’ She placed both hands around the base of his penis and waggled it from side to side. ‘Would it be stiff if I wanted you to make love to me?’