This is part of a series. This Chapter does not stand on its own. Please read from Chapter one.
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After they'd gone I toured the flat again. The lounge was huge, bigger than ours at home. It had a large TV with about a million channels, a really nice three-piece covered in lightly patterned Dralon (easily washable, I thought) and plenty of versatile lighting. The kitchen was new-looking, with a good range of equipment. There was no dishwasher though. There was a washing machine and dryer. I guessed I'd be using that quite a lot. For sheets.
The bathroom was newish and white. It had a big shower that two people could stand in as well as a large bath. I was amazed to see a bidet. Then I remembered the flat's purpose. I wondered who had been the previous occupant.
The second bedroom was a double with an unmade bed. The main bedroom was large with a built-in wardrobe down one side with mirrored doors. Opposite was a big dressing table and chest-of-drawers. The sheets were clean, well-aired cotton mix. I lay on the bed. It was comfy. I lay back staring at the ceiling. Just three days ago I'd hardly heard of Harrogate. Now here I was as some sort of mistress. Perhaps I should grasp the nettle and use the word whore. But I didn't feel like a whore. I certainly wasn't a girlfriend. I needed to examine my motives very thoroughly, but not just then; I'd save the introversion for later. I ran myself a bath. I had no intention of pleasuring myself but the memories of the drive up the motorway forced themselves into my mind, making my hand go unbidden to my crotch. I gave myself a gentle orgasm; it made me feel good.
After my bath I went out to find a supermarket or corner shop to buy a few necessities. There was a small mini-market just a few minutes' walk away. I was scrutinised quite thoroughly by the few people in there, especially the proprietor who tried to pump me for information. Being a southerner I said very little. I could hear them whispering as I left.
I ate a light meal, watching TV for a little while before going to bed early. I was so tired I went off to sleep within minutes, not waking until nine-thirty next morning. I showered, having lots of fun working out the complicated permutations available on the shower. I dressed and made up carefully, wondering when Tommy or Darren, or both, would call. I wanted to be ready for them; I wanted to look my best. This desire pulled me up short. I'd always tried to look good (ever since I'd met Jackie, anyway) but it had always been for me. The idea of dressing for a man was something new; something I'd have been quite scathing about. I reviewed all that had happened. Was I doing the right thing? One of Jackie's mantras had always been: "The right thing is the thing you decide is the right thing. Make your own decisions and stand by them. Trust yourself." Well, I could leave now if I wanted to. I wasn't a prisoner or under any duress. I didn't want to leave. Was a relationship based solely on sex a good idea? There wasn't really a relationship involved here, though. It was more of an arrangement. And if the sex continued to be so good it was very definitely a good idea. Will it last long? Perhaps not. But so what? I'd lose nothing if it didn't. What about Graham? That made me feel guilty. I texted him: "r u ok? im good xx". He replied an hour later: "where are you?" I sent: "yorkshire. c u soon". He didn't reply. The other problem was work. I wasn't on leave. I was playing hookey. I set up my laptop so I could send an e-mail telling them that I wouldn't be in for a while for personal reasons. I felt guilty about that too, but I was intent on seeing this adventure through.
The doorbell rang at midday. It was Tommy. I put my arms around his neck, giving him my most alluring smile.
"Hello, luv. My God but you're gorgeous. I wish I had time to stay, but Sunday is strictly a family day for me. I've got the kids in the car outside."
"Oh. Ok," I said a little disappointed.
"I just wanted to check you're ok. Look, I know this is a little, well, cold, perhaps, but it all happened a bit suddenly didn't it? We wouldn't normally whisk a girl off like that....Anyway, here's some more cash..."
"No! I don't want money!" I snapped.
"Ok. Sorry, luv. No offence meant. Look I have to go. Is it ok If I call round tomorrow at about six? Until eight? We can talk more then. Really, we want you to have fun, and...and, well, to be happy. Honest."
"Ok, hon. I want this to work. We'll work everything out, bit by bit. So, tomorrow at six then, yes?"
"Aye. Er..would you wear a short skirt for me?" I had a quick flashback to his hand running up my leg and squeezing my cunt in the car. It made me smile.
"Anything you want, darling. See you tomorrow."
As the door closed I knew a line had been crossed. I'd said "anything you want" and meant it. I'd dress however they wanted me to. I'd do anything they wanted within limits; though I didn't know what those limits were yet. It would be fun finding out, though. I'd called him "darling". I'd never called anyone that before. Except Jackie, when I was drunk.
During the evening, as I watched TV, I refined my strategy. I'd take a business-like attitude to the sex, I thought. I'd try hard to please them. I'd always try and look good for them. I'd listen but not pry too much. I'd be undemanding. I'd never say no to sex. None of this felt demeaning. It seemed a fair bargain if I was going to have more orgasms like those of the previous couple of days.
I spent Monday looking around Harrogate. It's a lovely town, full of old historic buildings and nice gardens. My flat (I was already thinking of it as mine) was just a few minutes' walk from the town centre and railway station. There were regular trains to London seven days a week, I noticed. Good to have an exit strategy, I told myself.
At half-past four I had a long bath, masturbated, but not to a climax, to get myself geed up a little. I dressed carefully, putting on my skimpiest underwear, my shortest skirt, which came a good six inches above my knee. I have good, long legs. My face I made strong but not tarty, emphasising my dark eyes and my lips. I washed and brushed my hair so it shone. My stomach was full of butterflies as I waited for Tommy to appear. I wished that it had been Darren who'd been first. He was more empathic. I didn't know how to proceed when he arrived; would he want to talk? Or have a drink? I'd bought some wine, but I hadn't thought to buy beer. Would he expect to eat?
The doorbell rang at five-fifty-five.
"Hi!" I said brightly, "how was your day?"
"Oh, just work, you know. My God you're a sight for sore eyes. Come here!" And that was it. No awkwardness, no embarrassment, no preliminaries. He kissed me deeply, took me to the bedroom, stripped me slowly and fucked me to exhaustion. I loved every minute of it. Three, yes three, orgasms. I think he only came once; his endurance is remarkable.
I lay still beside him for a long time. We said nothing until I said in a Humphrey Bogart voice, "This could be the start of a beautiful friendship"
He snorted. "Ha! Casablanca. Right? One of my favourites."
"Really? Mine too!"
We had something in common; a love of old Hollywood romances. I was amazed that dour Tommy was a romantic film lover. He left at eight sharp. I sent him off with a long kiss on the doorstep, completely naked. I felt so comfortable I didn't even think of putting anything on.
"See you tomorrow, love!"
"Oh, OK," I said, "I thought maybe Darren might..."
"Darren's Wednesdays and Thursdays. Friday and Saturday...well we'll discuss that on Friday, OK?"
I shrugged. "Ok, see you then." I reached up to give him another quick kiss, turning around just in time to see the front door of the flat next to mine close sharply. No-one had come past me, so whoever it was must have opened the door, seen, and probably heard, us, and then gone back in. I felt a quiver of embarrassment, but dismissed it quickly.
I showered, cooked myself some food, which I ate watching TV, but I mostly went over the two hours in bed with Tommy. It had been great. I wanted more. If I was a whore I was a happy whore. If I was an independent woman living an unconventional life I'd chosen for myself I was just as happy. I slept soundly waking with my hand on my hardening clit. I leapt for the shower and masturbated.
I continued exploring Harrogate that day, but I was aware that I'd need something to occupy my days. Two hours of sex, even if it was every night, wasn't enough to make a whole life. Tommy arrived promptly at six as on the Monday. We were in bed by five past, and he was fully inserted and thrusting hard by ten past. Not a guy for foreplay, Tommy. I'd aroused myself before he arrived, so I was ready. Again, I had three orgasms; Tommy only the one. We changed positions a couple of times; he obviously liked variety.
"I like to try new things out," he said as we lay quietly together. I had my head on his shoulder and one leg across his crotch, so I could feel his cock. He didn't put an arm round me, as most men would have done, so I propped myself up on one arm to look at him.
"I do too," I said, "but there are limits. I don't think I want to experience pain. And I'm not a submissive. But otherwise I'm prepared to try anything."
He looked at me. "I can tell you're not a submissive type. I love sex, and that means I love making women come. I love the feel of a woman climaxing under me. Or over me. Whatever. I'm not a sloppy type, though. Darren's your man for romance."
With that he stood up, showered and dressed. As he left he said, "Darren will be round tomorrow. About six-thirty, if that's ok. Err, he likes fancy underwear. Bye!" I showered, ate, then slept, exhausted but satisfied.
Next evening, I dressed very carefully again for Darren, putting on my sexiest underwear. He arrived at six-twenty, looking a little nervous, I thought.
