Apologies to my regular readers – this Chapter is much more about continuing to set the scene and concentrates on the implicit eroticism of a developing situation rather than the raw and explicit excitement of the sexual adventures that will follow. As a consequence, I don't expect that this part will score very highly, and I'm prepared for that as much as possible (We authors are a sensitive breed, and thrive on your comments and marks). Hopefully, you will stick with it enough to start to enjoy the later Chapters even more having taken the time to build the plot.
I am indebted to one of my readers (Rathers, you know who you are) for the idea of the "letter" that comes into the end of this Chapter. I welcome other ideas if you have them, and they are constructive.
Thanks for your support and feedback and patience.
The EMT Chapter Five
Whilst the dessert was served, Graham kept his hand on Suzanne's thigh, just over the lacy top of her hold-up stockings. She thought back to the excitement she had felt when John had touched her last night, and found no comparison. Tonight she just felt used and humiliated by Graham Leicester's unwanted and uninvited abuse. As the waiter left, Graham slid his hand up Suzanne's thigh, pulling her dress up with it, so that her thigh was bared to the tops of her stockings. As he reached for his dessert, she made to pull her dress back down, but he hissed at her and told her to leave it where it was.
She knew she had no choice. She sat in silence as Graham ate his dessert and finished his wine. After he had called for the bill, he turned again to her and asked her to pass him her purse.
Suzanne wondered what he could possibly want with her purse, but handed it to him anyway, keeping it below the surface of the table. He took it and opened it, before reaching into his pocket for her panties again, which he then discreetly put back in her purse. Suzanne breathed a sigh of relief. When she saw him reach for the panties, she had expected him to embarrass her by having them visible in his hand when the waiter returned with the bill.
He held out her purse to her, and she reached out for it, but before she could claim it, he let it drop between their chairs.
"Pick it up," he ordered, and then watched her closely as she bent down towards him to reach for her purse on the floor. She could feel his eyes burn down the front of her dress as she stooped low to reach the purse, and she knew that he would be able to see clearly down to her breasts. The thought that he was looking at her, and the humiliation of having to do exactly as he told her, brought a first flush of excitement to her, despite her growing animosity towards this wolf in sheep's clothing. With the excitement came the first inklings of how she could wrest back some control of the situation that she had suddenly found herself in.
Suzanne waited whilst Graham Leicester signed the bill; nothing so gross as cash or credit card passed between him and the maitre d', and then allowed her host to escort her wordlessly from the restaurant, his hand proprietarily holding her elbow. The other diners watched this attractive couple, older man escorting younger beauty, from an intimate dinner, and drew their own conclusions. Many of the male eyes in the room followed her as they left, drawn to her simple beauty and elegantly classical dress, unaware of her nakedness beneath, or the turmoil that raged within her as she passed.
Suzanne wondered what was going to happen next. As the deferential maitre d' held open the door for them, nodding as they passed, Mr Leicester passed her through the door, and then followed closely behind her, his hand slipping from her elbow to rest on the cheek of her bottom, which he could feel smooth and firm and naked beneath the thin material of her dress. She blinked quickly at this new impertinence, but did nothing else to show her displeasure at the liberty he had taken.
Immediately outside the door to the restaurant, they paused side-by-side, his hand still cupping the curve of her bottom, and Graham signalled across the road to the waiting car that they were ready. Despite the warmth of the summer evening, Suzanne felt her nakedness beneath the thin dress, and shivered slightly. At the same time, she felt her nipples harden in the cooler air outside the restaurant as they waited for the car to swing around to pick them up.
It was the same company car that had dropped off the baby-sitter and collected Suzanne from home only a few short hours before, and she recognised the chauffeur as he quickly alighted from the car to open the door for her. Like a perfect gentleman, Graham helped her into the seat as she modestly swung her legs into the car. Graham and the driver then walked around the car, and the other door was opened to allow Graham to slide in beside her. As they waited for the driver to get back in, Graham looked across at Suzanne and said in a quiet but powerful voice, "From now on, you are to call me Mr Leicester!" They were the first words he had spoken to her since he had told her to pick up her purse in the restaurant.
Suzanne nodded but said nothing as the driver retook his seat and, starting the engine, pulled away. Graham had given no instructions as far as she could tell, but the driver appeared to know where he was to drive. As the car picked up speed, Mr Leicester again rested his hand on her thigh, his thumb on the outside, and his fingers curling across to the inside of the firmly toned muscles, half way between her knee and groin. Suzanne again closed her eyes as if to shut out the familiarity he was taking, but otherwise sat silently enduring his touch.
After a few seconds, Graham's hand started to slide, first up and then down her thigh, caressing her leg, drawing the material of her dress up her thigh with each up stroke, until her thigh was exposed and his hand was stroking her leg through the silky mesh of her stocking. He faced directly forwards as this happened, until his hand drew her dress above her lacy stocking top, when he turned his head to look down at her long slim leg.
He spoke quietly; so faintly that Suzanne could barely hear him above the low hum of the luxury car. "Part your knees Suzanne" he demanded, and accompanied the order with a little pressure from his fingertips on the inside of her thigh. Involuntarily, she complied, allowing her knees to fall apart some six inches or so. Again, she felt a flush of excitement at being at the mercy of this powerful man, and her cheeks reddened as she likened the feeling to the submission she had enjoyed the night before with her husband's friend John.
As she pondered on these strange new feelings that had surprised her so much in the last 24 hours, Graham's hand slid down to her knee, where he cupped it in his palm and pulled her leg even further from its partner. Suzanne then felt his hand slide back up her thigh, past the top of her stocking; until she felt his fingers start to explore the silky smooth skin of her inner thigh.
The car pulled to a halt, and Suzanne opened her eyes. She was surprised to see that they were in an elevated position, near the top of one of the hills above the town of Edinburgh, which lay stretched out below them. The streetlights, like pearls on a necklace, traced the major roads. Drawing her eyes from the panorama, and looking to the side, Suzanne noticed that they were in a small car park, a few cars spread around them, with a little cluster of people standing around a hot dog stall some distance to the left. The driver wordlessly got out of the car and went over to join them, leaving her alone in the rear of the large car with Mr Graham Leicester.
She looked across at him. He was still fondling her inner thigh and drinking in her shapely leg with his eyes. After a few seconds, he looked up at her, turning his upper body slightly towards her, and began to speak.
"Suzanne, you are a very lovely young woman. Your husband must be very proud of you." Suzanne blushed as she remembered just how proud of her he had been the night before when he had been so keen to show her off to his friend. As she felt the blush spread almost unnoticeably across her cheeks, she realised that it was as much to do with the wine she had taken with dinner as it was with the connections she made with his apparently innocent remark.
She recognised the compliment for what it was, and said "Thank you Mr Leicester".
He nodded, as if to imply that he was only speaking the truth, before continuing.
"You have done very well tonight, Suzanne. You have been an absolute credit to Ian with your appearance, your behaviour and your answers to my questions, and you have behaved exactly as I would wish you to behave in all other respects." He smiled warmly at her, and then reached over to pull down the skirt of her dress, re-covering her exposed leg. He couldn't resist patting her on the thigh, before sitting back upright again.
"You must now be wondering what happens next" he understated; Suzanne had been pondering her fate since leaving the restaurant. Before she could say anything, he continued, "Let me introduce you to the latest member of our Executive Management Team!"
As he said the words, and before the import of them had been properly understood in her mind, she heard, and felt, the car door at her side being opened. Even as her brain replayed the words he had spoken, the better to re-examine their meaning which at first had been nothing but confusion, her head jerked around to her left before the door was fully opened. She saw the legs and midriff of a man, and was still working on understanding what had been said, when the man at her door bent down and peered into the car. It was John!
Finally, Suzanne realised what Graham Leicester had said. The full import of his statement, "newest member of the Executive Management Team", John's appearance at the car door, her surprise at seeing John so unexpectedly, and the growing realisation that they had been playing with her, that her acceptance of Graham's abuse in the restaurant and in the car had been for nothing, brought sudden wellsprings of tears to her eyes, and a deep flush of red to her cheeks. As John smiled at her from the open doorway of the car, Suzanne felt humiliated and duped; stupid to have been taken in by this cruel deception; ashamed to have fallen for the trap they had set her.
Even as the first heavy tear of her anger rolled down her brightened cheek, she wanted to lash out at the smiling face in front of her for his betrayal and complicity in this plot. What stopped her from doing so was her disbelief, her stunned, astonished disbelief at this sudden turn of events. Before her arm could lash out, her head spun around between John and Graham and back again.
"You bastards!" she blurted. "What kind of people are you?" She broke down, her shoulders slumped and her head dropped, and her body shook as sobs wracked through her. All the emotion and excitement and expectation of the last 24 hours tore through her fibre, leaving her feeling drained and hurt, and she wanted to be with Ian more than anything in the world.
In her hurt and confusion, she was aware of Graham pulling out a clean white handkerchief, and offering it to her. She rejected it with a turn away from him, to find herself being forced back by John, who was getting in to the car on her other side. She turned away from him too, and facing the front, pulling up her hands to the front of her face and hiding behind her arms, not wanting to speak to or hear from either of them, she curled up to make herself invisible to them. Although she was squashed between them as John pulled the door closed behind him, she felt alone.
