From the bath of SemperAmare
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Yes, folks, you read right; from the bath of SemperAmare, 'cause that is where we concocted the plot for this bit of fiction, and it is fiction, not a docudrama. So, sit back, relax, maybe have a drink, and enjoy a little escapism with us. Damned sight better for you than getting high or drunk; cheaper too. Oh, and much more fun than anal retentive nit-picking and comparing to real life dramas
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For livers in the imperial world, we've used metric measurements as we live in the enlightened world, where only babies, alcohol, and cocks are measured in the old system. For the sake of ease, a metre is as close as damn-it to a yard and a kilometre is a little over half a mile.
Many thanks to Jim, Joe, and Charlie for checking our logic.
*****
IT WAS PERHAPS ONE of the most bizarre tableaux in history.
Lucy was sexually excited. Very sexually excited. She was sure she could feel her own juices running down the inside of her leg. Or was it the lube she'd recently squirted into her own anus, before inserting a finger to smear it around? She could certainly feel something sliding from under the fire-engine-red, slinky, and ever so short, evening dress she'd chosen for the occasion. The cowled neckline plunged in a sharp V to her navel. Definitely, no bra possible. The trickle now felt like it was half way to her right knee, its path not hindered by panties; something else she'd decided to forgo for the night. The fluid tickled, and normally she'd be horrified and reach down to wipe it away. Not now, though. Not while handcuffed to the bonnet of one of her husband's company cars as she was.
Looking around, unworriedly, she wondered which of the dark bushes Dirk and his accomplice would emerge from. Then her mind flitted to wondering what the other guy would look like. The stranger that Dirk had organised. A travelling salesman, apparently, who had only been in town since yesterday and who would be gone tomorrow. Gone with absolutely no idea who he'd fucked this night. Dirk had assured her the guy was well hung, so it hadn't occurred to her to ask whether he was short or tall, fat or thin. Lucy was so aroused that she didn't give a damn. In fact, in a weird way, it would enhance the fantasy if he was ugly. All that mattered was having that fat dick of his jammed up her drooling pussy, while Dirk lubed up his more modest cock, before mounting her from behind.
Come on, Dirk, I'm ready.
She and Dirk, had been planning every detail of the role-play event that was about to begin, for weeks. He knew exactly what she wanted and had gone to extraordinary lengths to make it happen. Not only finding some nameless, faceless guy to help him but getting two police uniforms from god only knew where.
Lucy marvelled at how far she'd come in the last year, on her journey from vanilla to... this. If there was a switch for kink in the brain then Dirk had certainly switched on hers. And it seemed like with every encounter it grew. What had started as a drip was now a flood. Hell, the dam walls had been broken. Far from what she'd ever expected when her last fledgling had flown the nest.
Lucy scanned the bushes again and moaned in frustration against the gag across her mouth. Where was Dirk?
Sure, the setting wasn't one-hundred percent accurate for the fantasy, but a moonlit glade, kilometres from town was far safer than anything more realistic. Yes, she could have done this at home, but the familiar surroundings would have detracted from the fantasy. Her outfit was perfect; sexy but slutty and teamed with CFM pumps. Even the masquerade mask she'd donned matched the dress, being red and studded with fake jewels. The latter in place to ensure that there was no possibility of the stranger recognising her from a billboard or newspaper.
Was the gag justifiable? Maybe not, but it sure added to the feeling of helplessness that she was trying to immerse herself in. She wanted to truly live her role. She looked down at her late-forties body. Would guys still pay for a body like this? Lucy smiled to herself. Yes, they would. Hours at the gym, in the yoga studio, and under the needle had seen to that.
Whatever was running down her leg was tickling her again, her skin made hypersensitive from excitement. Lucy wished Dirk and his friend would reveal themselves. She desperately needed one of them to get busy licking her clean.
It had been a frustrating four weeks since Dirk and she'd last had sex. First her girls only road trip to deliver her youngest to university, then his business trip. No wonder she was gushing. All that had happened for that month was planning today, or should she say, tonight, and what was about to happen. She hoped he'd remember all his lines. She needed him to play his part so she could lose herself in hers.
She was dressed provocatively because in her fantasy she worked as a prostitute; top-of-the-range, of course. In the scenario, a client had hired her for the night and driven her into this secluded glade. Before they had time to do anything, though, two policemen had rumbled them. The client had taken off as fast as he'd been able. The police gave chase, but he'd gotten away. Then the policemen, one of whom was very decently hung, would return to get the hooker, the one they'd handcuffed to her client's car to prevent her escaping as well. Frustrated by their unsuccessful chase, they'd take out their anger on a helpless victim. Lucy almost fainted as her pussy and ass clenched in anticipation of being at their mercy.
She looked around the moonlit scene once again.
Come on, Dirk, your slut is ready.
******
MEANWHILE, BEHIND A BUSH, under the same moonlight, Dirk made some adjustments as he eyed his objective. The blue trousers he'd rented from the costume shop were too tight and he couldn't do the button up, so he tightened the belt and tucked the band under it. They only needed to last half a minute, after all. That's how long it would take to get from where he was to where she waited. Unlike the trousers, the hat was too loose; but, so what if it fell off during the excitement? Seeing all was ready, it was time to go. Giving his co-conspirator a nudge and a nod, he stepped from the bush and strode toward their target.
******
FIFTEEN MINUTES EARLIER AND from a different bush, John watched as a woman drove into the clearing, cracked the door of the car open a little, triggering the internal light to come on. The light revealed her texting someone. He saw her read a reply, smile, then clamber out. She looked familiar.
He lost sight of her as she walked to the rear of the vehicle and opened the trunk. A minute or two passed. John wondered what the hell she was doing. After closing the trunk, she stepped to the far side of the car. Her head disappeared. John could just make out her scantily clad bottom jutting past the rear of the car. She was crouching and doing something under her short dress.
John raised the camera dangling heavily from a strap around his neck and expertly focused on her, trying to ascertain what she was doing. It didn't help; the wheel and body of the car blocked too much of her out. John shrugged, it didn't matter. With the camera's 300-zoom lens he knew it was going to take some great photos. Hell, you'd be able to see every freckle.
She reappeared on the near side of the car. John suppressed a gasp. She was in what he could only describe as a fuck-me dress. It was so short he could see the beginning of her arse and there was no way she could wear a bra—the neckline plunged all the way to her navel. Ironically, her best covered feature was her face. Over it she'd placed a fancy mask that went from her top lip to her brow. Her blonde hair, which had been loose, was now in a jewelled hair clip as well. It, along with the mask, glinted in the moonlight. Through the zoom, John saw her straighten and slip a tube of something into a drawstring pouch she was holding. John clicked away.
He saw the strange woman rest the bag on the hood, reach in and remove a strap. He watched incredulously as the vaguely familiar person then did something even more bizarre. She wrapped the strap around her own mouth and cinched it up.
WTF?
Reaching in the bag again, the mystery woman withdrew a short length of rope with a loop at each end and a shiny object. Without hesitation, she threaded the rope through the bars of the radiator grill before attaching the handcuffs; yes, John could see them for what they were now, then snapped them to one loop and one wrist at a time. She was now anchored to the car with about half a metre of freedom provided by the rope. As a last act, she pulled a phone from the bag and rested it on the bumper of the car, then sat on the same bumper and stretched her long legs out.
John was reeling at the thought of the voyeuristic scene he was almost certainly about to witness if he stayed. When he'd been anonymously tipped off to be hiding at this remote glade, at this precise time, he'd no idea what to expect. It certainly wasn't this, though.
He heard his phone chirp quietly. The search he'd initialised while the strange woman was busy at the trunk of the car, had borne fruit. The registered owner of the car in the clearing was Mr. D. Berwick, much admired owner of the town's biggest medical centre. The same man whose blonde, leggy wife was behind just about every charity within miles and who was about to receive the local Australia Day award for Citizen of the Year. John looked at her scantily clad form again. Lucy Berwick certainly didn't dress like that for the society pages. No wonder he'd had trouble placing her.
After thrusting his phone back in his pocket, John placed his hand on his camera again. He gripped it but didn't raise it to his eye. He had a choice. He could walk away right now without any truly compromising photographs. He could leave a reputation intact. Or, he could take some photographs that would be worth $5K in the morning, but closer to $50K the day after, when the national tabloids got a whiff of the juicy scandal involving a local celebrity.
John was uncomfortable with the decision, so he decided to defer it. In the meantime, he'd stay put and just take the photos. He could always delete them later. He made the final adjustments to get the best outcome from the low light conditions. All the while his head swam with his newfound personal revelation. Who the fuck would have guessed that the Berwick's were into dogging? Lucy Berwick's current behaviour aside, it was an open secret that the glade was a dogging site. John thought everyone knew.
John knew enough about the sordid underbelly of society to know that adherents of the hobby came in two distinct types. One set liked to fuck their partner while anonymous voyeurs looked on. The others either invited the onlookers to join in or liked to watch while their partner took on all comers.
'Oh, well,' John thought, 'it takes all sorts to make a world.' Still, he was shocked; he'd always thought highly of the well-known couple.
John had been hiding in his little bush since 9:00 p.m.—two hours. Even before Lucy Berwick showed up, he'd been aware of other people in the vicinity. One had walked right past him and taken station halfway between his hiding spot and the car. If it was Lucy's husband, then he was obviously going to be one of the anonymous guys that fucked his wife or wanted a grandstand view of the action when it happened. John stretched his legs while he waited for events to unfold in the light of the bright full moon.
******
