B.d.s.m. Best Damn Sex for Months

Chapter 1

On any given day, London is packed with businessmen. All going about their various jobs with dreams of that big break, that one deal, which may lead to bigger things. On this day, the 21st of May 2004, Carl Striker was leaving a board meeting and heading into a future he wasn’t ready for.

Carl was the type who took his job very seriously, and nothing was more important to him than his work. He was a pragmatic man; sure of the path he was going down, and unwilling to accept failure. He'd been married in the past, but that ended after just two years. In fact he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to try and settle down again, especially after the painful separation.

He now had a long weekend to look forward to and headed towards the underground. Pretty soon he was on a train and nearing Euston Station, which is where he would catch his final ride home. Although he couldn't have known it, this was where an adventure of a lifetime, was about to begin.

Sitting on one of the many benches scattered around Euston Station, he unfolded his newspaper and began to read while he waited for his ride home. After just thirty seconds he could hear sniffling coming from behind him, and turned to find an attractive petite young lady crying on a bench. She was alone, and at first he returned to his newspaper, thinking that it was none of his business.

The more she cried however, the more he felt obliged to find out if he could be of service. So after folding his newspaper up again, he walked over to the young lady.

“Excuse me love, but is there anything I can do, you look quite distressed?” he said, looking around and feeling awkward.

The young lady looked up, with the tears still running down her cheeks. She was stunned that someone was being kind to her. The man's accent was warm and gentle.

“Thank you, but no. I'm in a bit of a mess since losing my passport and to cap it off my traveller’s cheques have been stolen,” she said, wiping her eyes for the third time.

“Oh…you are in a bad way aren't you? Have you reported it to the police?” asked Carl, taking a seat next to her.

“Yes, but they don't hold out much hope of getting them back, which leaves me stranded in London. I have to return to the states in a week, but as my airline tickets were in my passport wallet, well, you know,” she said, looking down at her feet.

Carl couldn't help but notice how she was dressed at that point, for her short but slender legs were only partially covered by a flimsy skirt. She wore a jacket, but from what he could see, she had a very attractive figure. He suddenly felt guilty for such thoughts, and was determined to help this woman in anyway he could.

“So, you're an American then?” he said, for want of something better to say.

“Half…my father was English but my Mother was American,” she replied, getting out another tissue.

“Um, well look, first of all what’s your name?” said Carl, getting to his feet.

“Vella, Vella West,” she replied.

“Well Vella, I may not be able to give you your traveller’s cheques back, but British chivalry is still alive and kicking,” he said, reaching out a hand. “I have a spare room you can stay in until you figure something out, that’s if you think you can trust me?” he said, looking into her eyes.

Vella looked back at her Knight, and smiled.

“I think you have a very honest face,” she said, taking hold of his hand. Though she was a bit leery, she just didn’t have the strength to fight the system any longer. Going home with this handsome man didn’t seem half as scary as wandering the streets alone.

Soon after that Carl’s train was pulling out of Euston Station, and he was explaining to Vella that he lived just twenty miles outside London and that the train was a more convenient means by which to travel. They sat opposite each other in the carriage, which gave Carl the opportunity to witness just how attractive Vella really was.

She'd unfastened her jacket to reveal a quite beautiful bust line, and one that Carl couldn't help but notice. In fact his thoughts were becoming quite erotic, until she began to speak.

“So what do you do, when you're not rescuing damsels in distress?” she enquired, smiling.

Carl avoided eye contact for a moment, fully aware that he'd been staring.

“I'm in the car industry, or more precisely I try to sell our vehicles abroad. What do you do for a living?” he replied, noticing how carefully she crossed her legs.

“Until recently I was a model, but I don't think it’s the life for me. There seems to be too many sleazy characters involved, and since my husband died I've been struggling to find something that I enjoy doing,” she said, noticing Carl’s blue eyes.

“Your husband died? I'm sorry to hear that,” replied Carl, genuinely saddened to hear this news from such a young person.

“It’s ok, he died over a year ago now in a boating accident, and I've pretty much gotten over it. We were never that close to begin with, and to be honest I think we only married because it was the “DONE,” thing,” she said, emphasizing the word done with two hands making the sign of quotation marks.

By the time they'd reached Carl’s apartment, he knew quite a bit about this young lady and looked forward to learning more.

______

She was exhausted. The emotional stress of fighting bureaucracy had taken its toll on her but she still managed to be surprised by the warmth and beauty of Carl’s home. Funny what we Americans consider old, when these charming homes are hundreds of years older than anything we have, she thought.

Carl turned to Vella as he unlocked the door.

“Please excuse the house, I recently lost my cleaning girl to pregnancy and I don’t have a domestic bone in my body,” he intoned.

She just smiled softly, looking into his mesmerizing eyes.

“I’m sure that the generosity you have shown me will far outweigh any clutter.”

He opened the door and the soft light from the hallway spilled out onto the doorstep, bathing Vella in its yellow warmth. She stepped over the threshold and waited for Carl to motion her inside.

“Would you care for a libation? You’ve had a long day and I’m sure you are in need of some relaxation.”

“I would love a drink, Carl. What ever you have on hand would be more than welcome.”

He turned down the hall and walked into a posh room. The walls were covered with books. The chairs were thick and deep; they seemed to invite Vella to sit on them. As she took a seat, her eyes roamed over the room. All the woodwork was heavy and dark. A desk dominated the far end of the room, large and imposing. There was an old fashioned typewriter on it with paper in between its old rollers. The air in the room exuded a masculine scent. She knew there was not one feminine touch in here and it made her feel at home.

Carl moved to the bar and began to mix the drinks. “Vodka, straight up? You have the look of a vodka drinker. I’m a brandy aficionado myself.”

“Vodka would be prefect, thank you. This is a beautiful home, Carl. Being in this room makes me feel inconsequential and oddly right at home. Do you write?” she rambled on nervously.

He smiled at her, knowing she was a little nervous. He handed her the drink and sat across from her, sipping on his own. His eyes perused her form lasciviously. He just couldn’t seem to help himself.

“I do, but only when I have nothing else on my docket. Mostly, I write about export policies and politics, but one day I hope to be able to have the time to work on a novel.”

“I certainly don’t have the smarts to write about anything political. In fact, when I was in high school, I was voted the person least likely to read a book,” she laughed self-consciously.

The laughter died away and her eyes met with his. Quietly, she whispered.

“Carl, this may sound forward of me, even selfish, but would you mind if I spent the night in your bed? I have become so lonely here. I don’t know a soul and…” she choked up, not wanting to cry, she swallowed hard.

Carl moved to kneel before her, taking her thin hands in his own.

“Vella, if you stay in my bed, I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself,” he said hoarsely.

“Please Carl; I need to feel wanted, cherished. Thing is, I haven’t been with a man since my husband died. I haven’t been alone my entire life and tonight I just can’t face sleeping by myself.”

He stared into her eyes. How could he feel so much for a woman he had only met a very few hours ago? He wondered. He tilted his head.

“What would you want from me? I can’t promise you anything but the comfort of my bed and a place to stay until you figure out your passport and financial difficulties. I am a very busy man, Vella. I cherish my time. I swore that I would not become involved with another woman for a very long time and well, this is all rather sudden.”

“Carl, I don’t want anything from you but what you are willing to give freely. It’s not my place to ask anything from you. In my life, rather who I am is someone who is told what to do, where to be. Making decisions has been difficult. I am weary to the bone of having to do so,” she cupped his cheek with her hand, “one night, Carl. That’s all I’m asking for. Please help me. I just want to be told that things will be fine. I’m so tired of playing this role of being self-assured. Take me in your arms tonight, Carl.”

_______

How could he refuse such a request?

“Okay Vella, you can sleep in my bed tonight. But don’t blame me if I can’t keep my hands from you,” he replied, with a grin.

Vella just smiled and thought how much she wanted to feel this man’s touch, even for just one night.

They watched the television for a couple of hours after that, and didn’t really say much of anything. Carl found himself looking at her from time to time, and wondering what he’d let himself in for. He was also trying to figure out what she meant earlier about being told what to do; he couldn’t imagine giving any partner orders. When he eventually turned the TV off he discovered that Vella had fallen asleep, and no wonder after such a harrowing day.

Carefully he picked her up, and found her to be quite light to carry. She never awoke until he placed her on the bed, and then only smiled as he began to undress her. He unbuttoned her blouse and she slipped out of it, and then he gently eased her skirt down her legs and off, placing both on a chair next to the bed. (Carl noticed a small black tattoo on her inner thigh. It looked Chinese in origin. Just two symbols, close together, near her groin) She then got into the bed wearing just panties and a bra, and watched as Carl proceeded to get undressed.

First he removed his shirt, and then he unzipped his trousers and let them fall to the floor. Vella’s eyes never left his body as he began to climb onto the bed, and Carl soon found himself snuggling up close to this affectionate woman. He didn’t see her do it, but when he looked down the bed he discovered she’d removed her bra.

She had the most perfect breasts Carl had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but get aroused at seeing them. She made Carl jump as she placed her hand between his thighs, and slowly moved it up until it was brushing his growing bulge. His tight briefs were becoming uncomfortable, and for a moment only, he hesitated to remove them.

Once he had, Vella wasted no time in grasping hold of his shaft and stroking him to attention. Before he could react, Vella slid down the bed taking his member with both hands. He looked down the bed and watched as she opened her mouth and slipped his bell end past her lips. Closing his eyes, Carl adored the sensation of her tongue running over and around the tiny hole at the end of his hardened cock.

He also couldn’t help but notice how good she was, at doing this particular sexual act. It felt like there were different sensations coming from different parts of his manhood, and he also couldn’t believe how much she was managing to take into her mouth. Carl wasn’t a small person, in fact his cock was in direct proportion to his height and that was 6’2”. Yet, here was a small woman taking a large cock down her throat with consummate ease.

He tasted musky and manly. Her nose buried in the hair at the base of his cock. She was devouring him. His every texture, taste and smell was emblazoned upon her memory. Her hands sought out his balls, gently rolling them before sneaking towards his ass. Her mouth followed her hand. Her tongue darted out and flicked at the space between his balls and ass. She could hear him moaning with pleasure.

She retraced her steps and looked up to Carl’s face. How handsome he was, she thought. Her lips took purchase over the corona, as her tongue swirled madly. His length slid over her velvety wet tongue and bumped the back of her throat, nearly making her gag. Her jaw was aching and her lips were numb but the feeling of excitement that strummed though him spurned her on. His hands were entwined in her hair, pushing at her head. Just when she thought she wouldn’t be able to breathe, she heard his voice rumble low.

“Come to me Vella,” he demanded “come ride me.”

“Yes, Master,” she replied, as she straddled his hips.

Her delicate fingers guiding his thickness to her very wet pussy. She teased him, holding herself above him so that the tip of his cock slid over her silken smoothness. Her moans were loud and low. When Carl couldn’t take it a moment longer, he thrust his hips upwards, burying himself in Vella’s tight, wet, warmth.

Her scream rent the air. Her nails dug at his chest as she became wild. She rode him with all the energy of a hurricane and just as wildly. Her feet tucked up under his ass and she bucked like a stallion.

“Please! Yes! Please, Please let me cum!” she demanded.

She could feel him thickening even more. His cock twitched inside her. She was only cognizant of the blazing need for release. She wouldn’t cum until she had permission; this much was ingrained in her. She was nearly sobbing when she heard his jagged voice.

“Cum with me Vella!”

The spasm that rocked her was like a brilliant light. Warmth rolled over her entire body as he came so deep inside of her. Her thighs tightened around his hips before she collapsed on top of him.

They were both breathing raggedly. Their bodies covered with a light sheen of sweat. They slowly came round to a slumberous reality. She smiled softly and placed a kiss on Carl’s cheek.

“Thank you. That was wonderful; you are wonderful,” she fairly purred with satiation.

“Mmmm, you were wonderful too Vella.”

Languidly he wrapped her in his arms and cuddled her gently.

“Sleep well, sweet Vella. We will talk in the morning.”

They slept deeply. Neither one dreaming for the sensation of fulfilment covered them.

Day 2

The sun rose in the sky like a petulant child intent on nagging its parents. Watery sunlight filtered through the drapes and embraced the couple in its tepid warmth.

“Vella, are you awake, darling?” asked Carl.

“Mmm, yes,” she said as she stretched her limbs like a lazy cat, “good morning, sexy.”

“Yes, quite. Vella, last night you said something that confused me. You called me Master while we were making love. Why?”

Vella sighed. It had been such a long time since she had to explain her lifestyle. She didn’t want to freak him out but saw no other way around the subject.

“Carl, this can be a bit embarrassing. Please don’t judge me until I’ve had my say. When I married my husband, well, we were much like any other couple minus a few things. We loved each other as we loved our friends. Things got really stifled and our sex drive was non-existent. We tried several things, but nothing seemed to work. One day, I read a book about fantasy; about sexual deviancy. You see Carl; I am and always will be submissive. Once I learned about it, I knew, that was the element in my life that was missing.”

“And did it improve? Your sex life I mean?”

“Oh yes, in fact it was as if we’d only just discovered sex. We experimented and researched on everything we could lay our hands on,” replied Vella.

“So, what does it involve?” I mean, is there pain involved or any kinky strange sex, like throwing cream cakes at a guy wearing a Mac,” laughed Carl, and only stopping when he spotted the serious look on Vella’s face.

“You’ve clearly never experienced anything other than straight sex, have you?” she said, knowingly.

“Okay, I’ll admit that my sex life hasn’t been all that great, but it hasn’t been terrible either,” replied Carl on the defensive.

“Well, the key to really enjoying sex is to have an open mind. If you can’t try new things, then your sex life will falter and eventually stall,” commented Vella, as she got out of bed and headed for the shower.

Carl sat up thinking about it, not at all sure if it was something that appealed to him. He then spotted Vella in the long wall mirror, situated on the far side of the bathroom. She was behind the open door, and removing her panties and bra before turning on the shower and stepping in.

Carl could see every perfect inch of her body, and felt his shaft coming alive, as her soap covered hands began to run up and down her nakedness. He felt a tinge of guilt as he carried on staring, but it was like witnessing an accident, he just couldn’t pull his eyes away. Vella seemed to be putting on a show and it felt so erotic.

Her fingers pulled and pinched her breasts, as great globs of soap ran down her bare skin. Carl unconsciously placed his right hand over his bulging cock, feeling the hardness that this show was producing. When her hand suddenly concentrated on her inner thighs, Carl wanted to get up and join her.

By the time she’d climbed out of the shower, Carl was feeling extremely horny. Vella came out of the bathroom wearing just a towel, and crossed over to the bed. Pulling the sheets back suddenly, she spotted Carl’s hardened state.

“What you just did was another form of sex, and it’s called voyeurism,” she said, trying to make a point.

“You mean you knew I was watching?” replied Carl.

“Oh yes, do you think I always leave the shower door open. My point though, was that you’re open to new things, you just don’t know it yet,” she said, throwing the covers back over his exposed member.

Carl lay back and suddenly came to a decision.

“Could you teach me Vella, I’m open to new experiences,” he said, as Vella got dressed.

She looked at his face, hoping to gauge whether or not he was sincere in his request.

“Well, I have a week. So I see no reason why I shouldn’t have a blast while I’m here. So, sure I’ll show you what my lifestyle entails, and by the end of the week maybe you will form some opinion as to whether or not you enjoyed the experience, ok?” replied Vella, with a smile.

“Deal,” said Carl, getting out of bed.

They kissed to seal the deal. Vella wrapped her arms around Carl’s neck. His arms wound about her waist. The kiss was soft, not demanding. It was gentle and new and exciting. Strangely enough, it wasn’t sexual.

“Time for breakfast, sexy. We can talk about this more down in the kitchen.”

They both dressed in robes. Carl smiled to Vella, noting the lacy silk wrap she wore. He wondered if it could get any better than this. He shook his head in disbelief before turning on his heal to lead her to the kitchen.

The kitchen was small and intimate. Vella couldn’t get over the fact that the washing machine was a natural element in there. She meandered over to the sink to look out the window. A smile caressed her lips. A perfectly secluded garden was surrounded by high privets.

Carl began to make coffee.

“Carl that is something I should be doing. Lesson number one; the submissive strives to please the master. This includes every day things, like making breakfast. Seeing as I don’t know your kitchen or where things are, you’ll have to show me.”