The Author Pt 01 1

Caroline was scared, over the last 18 months or so she had fantasied about being forced to do some very outrageous things but this was very different this was real, this was not her telling somebody her desires, this was going to happen. She stood in the entrance to the hotel bar looking for her author, she was dressed exactly as he had asked, but was not comfortable, it wasn't that different from how she had asked him to dress for her cinema trip in that story, but that was fantasy.

Eamonn had no idea where she was, she was on a weekend trip with her two best friends as far as he was concerned, she had lied, something she had never done, until she started to get her fantasies in print, written by a stranger. She could not change that now, she needed to locate the author, her author. Caroline had fanned her erotic fantasies by reading, and had spent way too much time reading stories about non-consent and spanking on an erotic writing website. She had read a couple of stories by an author that she really liked, he was based in the UK like her, and his stories spoke to her, she had messaged him, and was really happy when he responded. Caroline had her fantasies put up in print, she had guided the author in the details and her story had been told, however alongside that happening, something else had happened she had exchanged very dirty texts with author, and send him pictures too.

Pictures now there was a thing, they had almost stopped this from happening, she had been careful, and used pictures that Eamonn had taken a few years ago, turning off all the tracking information on her phone she had taken photos of those photos, making sure she maintained an ability to walk away without the author ever finding her. However, the author knew what she had done, and dropped a lot of hints that she was not who she said she was, and asked for live 'right now' photos, she had not provided, and deflected, and said she felt pressured, anything that would mean she did not have to send them. She knew that it had meant the author had nearly walked away.

The author sat in a comfy chair just across from the bar, he was relaxed with a bottle of beer, he was not sure how this weekend would go, he knew what he hoped, but he was still not sure if he was being cat-fished, and expected either nobody to turn up, or somebody that was not the girl in the pictures, for a long time he was sure it was her husband texting him.

If it was just the girl, but older, he was not bothered, her dirty mind and desire to live out her fantasies was enough for him. However, he had asked her to be honest, and if she was somebody else entirely then he would walk away, just out of principal, he could live with a girl being in love with a slightly younger version of herself, but not somebody that used another girls image. Then worst case, a bloke turned up, that would probably end in physical violence in this bar and him being thrown out the hotel. Ironically, he really would not have cared what photo she sent him, he was not hung up at all on body and looks, he found something attractive in almost any woman.

He looked over to the entrance, and realised he should not have worried, standing in the entrance was Caroline, she looked about 3 to 5 years older than in the photographs, but that could have been 15 to 20, and he would not have cared, she was looking around the bar searching for him. He waved and caught her eye, she walked over looking nervous. She looked amazing, high heels, and black fishnet stocking, a short black leather skirt that came halfway down her thigh, and a tight black top, pulling a small suitcase. He could tell that she had followed his instruction not to wear a bra, and that probably meant the knickers were missing too, she approached him and stopped.

'Are you my author,' she asked.

'Yes Caroline, I am,' the author replied.

She bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek, secured her case between the seats and sat down next to him.

Caroline sat down, not sure if her nerves were better or worse now that she knew he was here and she was with him, he caught the eye of a waiter who came over quickly.

'Drink,' the author asked.

'Errrr, can I get a Porn-star Martini,' Caroline said.

'And I will have another of these please,' said the author showing his beer bottle.

'I'll be back shortly,' the waiter said with a big smile.

Caroline instantly knew that the waiter had seen up her skirt, she was not wearing knickers, at the request of the author, her whole outfit was the request of the author, she knew she looked amazing in all black like this, but that did not mean she wanted random people looking at her pussy. There was an argument going on in her head that a waiter seeing her naked bald pussy was nothing compared to her fantasies of what happened in the cinema, but she was clear that was very different and dismissed her own thoughts, she noticed that the author, was looking very closely at her.

Caroline studied him back, she knew he was 47, but she would have guessed 41 looking at him, he had very short hair, number 2 she thought, very short, but just not quite that army cut. His face was round, a little chubby, with glasses, blue eyes and a cheeky smile. From the neck down he was a little strange, she could see his arms were solid, muscly, little or no fat, and his legs, although hidden under jeans looked the same, where his jeans had ridden up slightly she could see a well-defined ankle and the bottom of what was clearly a massive calf muscle. This was in contrast to his body, which had a larger than average beer belly, and was clearly soft around the edges, after a moment thought she concluded that under that fat were probably strong muscles that matched his limbs.

Caroline's appraisal concluded with the thought that he was defiantly capable of all the things he had promised to do to her. She sat back, placing her hands so nobody else could see up her skirt.

The author studied Caroline's face, he had written about it, but kept the details light, as he was not confident about the pictures. Her hair was think blonde, full of body and shape, flowing just over her shoulders, it was a dirty, strawberry blonde, more dirty than strawberry, but both were there, he looked for any sign it was dyed, but he could find none. He moved on to her face, as he realised that she was studying him too. Caroline's had very beautiful eyes, they were delicate, thin, shaping into her head, and her nose well, with bright, hazel to green eyes shining out from the opening. Her nose was petite, almost small in width but straight, and again delicate at the bottom, but with a good length, it was not a button nose at all. It was the feature that put her face into proportion, she had a symmetrical face, very pleasing on the eye, but it was long tapering in at the bottom to her round ladies chin. Her big smile which appeared as she sat back, really balanced her face, she had thinner lips than was the fashion at the moment, but they suited her and framed that smile really well, they were natural red, the author could not help picturing his cock sliding between them.

He was brought back to reality by the waiter, 'one Peroni, and one porn-star martini,' he said as he approached. The author noticed that the waiter was looking towards Caroline's crotch, he must have noticed she had no knickers on, but Caroline had her hands blocking any view now. The author took her hands and moved them, as she went to close her legs, he looked at her.

'Don't be mean, treat the lad,' he said.

Caroline looked at him, 'I don't want to,' she hissed back.

'I will be right back for a signature,' the waiter said as he went back to the bar, clearly not wanting to be dragged in.

The author turned to Caroline, 'Are you going to be the slut I wrote about, or not?' he enquired.

Caroline did not answer his question verbally, she did not want to do this, did not feel comfortable doing it, but something told her she had to. She shifted her body to face where the waiter would return from, and opened her legs wide, her little cunt would be on full display for the waiter as he returned. Which he had already started to do carrying a receipt and a pen.

Caroline sat looking at him as he approached, eyes fixed between her legs, he put the receipt on the table then looked back to Caroline's pussy. His eye's flicked up a couple of times to meet hers but he could not hold eye contact, his vision returned to her pussy.

'Can you just sign and put your room number in please,' he said to the author, not moving his eyes from her now tingling pussy.

She could not believe she was doing this, how embarrassing, this 18 year old, probably student, was looking at her most intimate parts and she was sitting here letting him, encouraging him really.

'Thank you,' the waiter said as the author retuned the receipt and pen, and stole one last glance at Caroline's pussy before heading back to the bar.

The author took a gulp of beer, and said, 'see you loved that, like the slut you are.'

'I did not, that was embarrassing, he was 18 at most,' she retorted.

He leant over towards her reached out his arm, and said, 'my fingers say different,' as he pushed between her lips to find a wet pussy.

He brought his fingers up to her mouth, and indicated for her to open, which she did, and he popped the wet fingers inside, she sucked her juices off them, and released them.

'So are you ready for a fun weekend,' the author asked

'I am terrified if I am honest,' Caroline said, 'I am excited too, but I am concerned about what you will make me do.'

'Well before we leave the bar you will be seen by a good few men, for a start,' he said.

'I feel exposed I really don't want all the men in here looking at me,' she replied.

'Not just looking at you, but seeing your intimate parts and hopefully touching you,' the author looked pleased.

'No, I don't want that,' she said, very aware that it was her fantasy that she was denying.

'You do want that, that is what you have dreamed about,' said the author as he leaned over and without asking slipped a hand inside her top.

She let him take a big handful of her naked breast, he caressed it, and played with the nipple, something about that really excited her, she glanced around to see if anybody was watching, but there wasn't. No wait, the waiter was looking, drinking in her image, she could see how distracted he was looking at her.

'Oh my, your tits are amazing,' said the author, 'they are firm to the touch, but soft and forgiving when squeezed, they are perfect, and they do look fabulous in that top.'

'Thank you,' she said, still scanning for anybody looking.

'Caroline, our safe word for the weekend in Aardvark,' the author said, 'you can use it at any time, and everything will stop right there and then. However, I am not going to do anything serve to you, and everything will be in line with fantasies that you have described to me, had me write about, so I will be very disappointed if you use it.'

Caroline sniggered at 'Aardvark' but it was easy to remember and not something that was ever going to come up naturally.

'Aardvark,' she said, as he squeezed her breast again, and used his other hand to release two of the buttons on her top, 'don't worry, just making sure you know, I know it, and I do not intend to use it again.'

Those two buttons meant that her tits were all but spilling out of her top, there was no way that another could be undone and her tits not burst out to be displayed to everybody. She felt exposed, self-conscious, more of her breasts were exposed than was covered, and his hand playing was so obvious.

Caroline scanned the room again, the waiter was still grabbing glances whenever he could, god the sight of her breast being played with must be torture for a kid like him, boys of 18 or 19 thought about nothing else but sex if she recalled. Then she noticed a guy walking over in their direction from the bar, he was definitely watching his eyes flicking between her face, her tit, and where he was walking. He was aiming for the set of chairs across from them, if he sat in the end chair then he would have a direct line of sight to her, and she could just tell he was aiming for it.

He was late fifties, maybe early sixties, but he looked fit and strong, a man that had worked out all his life, he had strong features that vaguely reminded her of Harrison Ford, she knew it was not him though, but he walked with the confidence of a man that was used to getting what we wanted. In any other situation she thought she would be attracted to him, but just at the moment she did not want any man to notice her.

The author withdrew his hand, pulling slightly more of her breast out of the top as he did, she could not believe that it was actually staying in there, half her areola was exposed, her nipple was inside her top by 2 or 3 millimetres was all. The author pushed her legs open, she had not even noticed that she had closed them, and she saw him nod to the guy as he sat down in exactly the seat that she had hoped he would not.

'You know him,' she enquired, as she took a large slug of her drink.

'No, but he was paying interest to you, and I want to make sure that any man that does gets to see as much of your beautiful, gorgeous body as they can,' he replied, 'now make sure he can see right up your skirt.'

'No, it is bad enough the waiter did,' she blurted, however, the idea of Harrison looking at her exposed cunt was turning her on. She knew he wasn't Harrison Ford, but that was what she was calling him now.

'You want to be used and humiliated by men, that one is interested in viewing you as a sex object, do as you are told young lady,' the authors voice was quiet but very commanding, she had to comply no matter how much see didn't want to, and she moved aiming the gap between her legs directly at Harrison.

The author could tell she did not want to do it, but she did comply, the guy could now see her in all her glory. He was pleased she was complying, she needed to be fully on board with this if he was going to get away with what he had planned later. He sat back and relaxed, wanted her to get used to a strange man looking at her pussy. The guy raised his bottle to the author, either a thank you, or a salute for letting him look, the author nodded.

After about a minute the author said, 'Ok, now put your hand down and play with your lips and clit.'

'Really,' she said, he watched as her cheeks started to colour.

'Of course really, he has had a good look now, show him something more,' the author said as he swigged his beer.

He watched as she tentatively moved her hand down and into her skirt, there was a pause, but it was only a moment, he thought that was when she decided to do it and commit to this weekend. He listened for that tell-tale sound of wet pussy lips being parted, and after no more than 2 seconds it happened, he could tell her hand was stroking and playing, he looked across to the guy, who was intently watching her.

The author sat back and watched this silent interaction happen for 30 seconds or more then said quietly to her, 'make sure he knows you are enjoying him watching.'

'I'm not though, I want the ground to swallow me right now,' Caroline responded.

'That is not true,' he said,' you can get up and walk away at any point, yet you stay and follow my instruction, whatever you are telling yourself, you want to be here doing this.'

Her phone rang, and she looked at him.

'Answer it,' he said, 'I don't want to disrupt your life.'

She removed the hand that was playing and picked up her phone and answered, 'Hi Eamonn, what's up?'

There was a pause then, 'No, no that broke, there is a new one in the utility room, above the washing machine.'

The author lent forward and pushed his hand up her skirt, finding her pussy, he pushed two fingers inside, and she gasped, a loud shocked gasp. A couple across from them with no view of the bottom half of them looked around.

'No it is fine, I...I dropped a piece of ice...it hit my leg and slid down into my skirt...It shocked me,' she lied.

The author moved his fingers about, playing, he looked to the couple, but they have gone back to whatever they were doing.

'EAMONN!' she said, 'I can't believe you suggested that.'

The author heard laughing coming from the other end of the phone, then as he started to massage her clit with his thumb, she spoke again, 'got it? No next to that.'

There was a pause, he was playing, pressing quite hard now, and he wanted a reaction, more than the light bite of her lip that she had just started. He flicked, and she moaned, just a tiny amount, before she caught herself and stopped.

'Perfect, ok enjoy yourself, and look after her, she will miss her mummy, shout if you need anything else.' Caroline was clearly trying to wrap this up quick.

There was another small pause then, 'I love you too, see you Sunday.' She hung up and put the phone down.

The author withdrew his hand and picked up his beer and finished it, the guy in the chair watching gave him a silent clap, as he also drank his Peroni.

The author looked over and caught the waiter's eye, he had noticed that the waiter had looked over here a lot since he left, and knew it would not be hard to catch his eye.

The waiter approached, and immediately looked between Caroline's legs. The author smiled, he read the name badge, 'Hi Chris,' he said, drawing his attention back from Caroline, 'Can I get two Peroni's and a Porn-star Martini please.'

'Yes sir,' said Chris, his eyes wandering back to Caroline.

The author laughed, Chris snapped back to looking at him fear in his eyes.

'Don't worry, you are allowed to look,' he said to Chris, 'when you return with her drinks you can touch if you want.'

'No he can't,' said Caroline.

Chris looked nervously between the author and Caroline.

'I say he can, so please let him know, that would like him to touch when he returns, said the author, then he turned to Chris and said, 'I am training her, she does everything of her own free will, but sometime needs reminding of that fact that she is doing what she has asked to do.'

Chris looked confused, but nodded, and looked at Caroline.

'He is right,' Caroline said, 'I am doing this because I want to, you can touch,' she smiled at Chris.

Chris disappeared to the bar.

'You can't be serious,' she hissed at him, 'he is just a boy'.

The author calmly looked at her and said, 'Is it humiliating to have an 18 year old boy use you? And he has to be 18, do couldn't legally sell us the alcohol if he wasn't.' The author knew he was 18, he had asked casually when he got his drink before Caroline arrived.

'Yes it is humiliating,' Caroline snapped back, she was clearly annoyed.

'Well there you go,' said the author quite confident that she was annoyed with herself for not grasping that this was all part of her fantasy.

The guy across was still looking, with a smile on his face, he nodded to the author. The author looked around, and there was another gentleman looking over too, there was no way he could see between her legs, but he was defo appreciating her bust. The author lent over again, pulled the tit that was almost out from her top, and let go, letting it bounce for a moment, it was a thing of pure beauty. It dropped like any nature breast did, just the slightest bit longer than it was wide, a perfect round curve to the bottom of it, as if framing that reasonably large areola, and perky nipple. It was a lovely very lightly tanned colour, as if a deep tan from the summer was fading away, the author noticed that there was not a tan line, she must bath topless, the nipple and surround were a lovely natural pink, bright, engorged from her arousal.

The tit hung exposed for no more than a second, before he scooped it up and replaced it in the top. He looked at the guy that had been looking, his eyes looked amazed, like they would be out on stalks if they could, and he had stopped completely, just staring. The author thought it was likely that he was trying to work out if he had actually seen that or not.