Toxic Woman 4

I was, as I said, sore when `i woke up the following morning. Anika didn't stir when I slipped out of bed, her hair and skin a wonderful contrast against the white cotton of the pillow. Like a reversal of a cameo.

I slipped on my black silk robe and drifted downstairs to put the kettle on. I could feel my cunt lips still swollen and my bum was still stinging a little where she had rather enthusiastically applied her hand to me. My nipples were hard again as I thought about how she had chewed and sucked them. I touched them and felt small jolt of utter pleasure.

I had no idea if she liked tea or coffee in the morning so, i made tea and decided to offer her coffee if she would prefer. I pushed open my bedroom door with my poor bum, and when i turned, she was sitting up, her breasts beautifully exposed over the summer duvet.

"I made tea but if you'd rather have coffee, I'll nip down and make some."


"Tea is perfect. Thanks."

I put the cup on her bedside table and carried mine to my own table. I went to pull back the duvet but she raised her hand. "Something wrong?" By way of answer she lifted her breasts on her forearm and I smiled and dropped my robe.

"Better, please join me. Are you sore?" I was. "Lovely. You were wonderfully compliant."

I didn't ask what she meant because I was pretty sure I knew. She meant whenever she directed me, I did what she asked. Further I didn't complain if what she wanted was painful or rough. "I knew you'd prefer me to be obedient."

She nodded. "Especially when we fly. There are absolute rules you must follow for me to continue to train you." For a moment I wondered if she meant in bed, but she continued, "When we are in the school, whether flying or studying, you will do absolutely what I tell you. Never argue." She saw my attempt to speak but ignored me and in doing so answered my unasked question "You may, of course ask questions. All of this is for our safety and that of everyone around. Do you accept?" Naturally.

We sat side by side in bed sipping our tea."When will you be going home?"

"You want me to leave?" She smiled when I protested. "I wondered if you'd like to come with me and maybe come up with me for a taste of small aircraft flying." I'd love to, thank you. "Then," she said throwing the duvet aside, "best you come down for a taste of flying instructor." She tilted her head and lifted an eyebrow. Ever the obedient student, down I went. she patted my head as I worked my tongue and lips for her, and stroked my hair. I tried to watch her eyes when i could and I could feel, after a jaw-achingly long time, that she was almost there. Before she told me to, I slipped two fingers into her as I licked and sucked her clit. She came with a violent cry and a twist of her body that once again threatened my wrist! She was messy and I assiduously licked her juices up especially where they had pooled at her bum.

She tapped my head and I looked up. "Come and sit up with me." I settled beside her, my face still wet. he used her finger to gather some of that moisture and, closely watching me, touched that finger to my lips. I opened and she gently eased her finger into my mouth. I closed my lips around it and she finger-fucked my mouth. As I tell you this, I can remember so very clearly how it felt and it is exactly how I feel now. Hence a little break in my writing. Anyway, to return to the scene, I recovered from my orgasm in her arms, my cheek against her shoulder and her hand stroking my hair and chin. She said, quietly, her breath stroking my ear, "You licked my bum."

I pulled away from her a little and asked, "Should I apologise?"

"Not at all. We're both learning what the other likes and needs. My experience, though, leads me to believe that a lover who likes her bum to be touched will often do as you did to see if I feel the same." She was, I confessed, right. "Do you like to be penetrated there?" My readers will already know the answer to that. She smiled. "I haven't seen any sex toys in your house."


"Bedside table, top drawer." I held my breath as she pulled the drawer open, hoping that my relatively small collection of toys would not shock her.

I had hoped she'd simply have a look but, no, not Anika. She lifted everything out and studied each item. The first was a purple feeldoe. "I never imagined you using one of these, Kitty." I hadn't. "Ah, a former lover?"

"Two former lovers," I said quietly.

"The same with this?" A blue, dildo in a harness - a very expensive harness come to that. I confirmed her suspicion.

She held up my two butt plugs; the steel one i like best and the vibrating one that can be fun in the right circumstances. The anal beads that had been a gift from Hilary and which I had intended to throw away. As indeed I had intended to dispose both feeldoe and dildo (but not the harness). I told her that and she shook her head. "We just need to lay that ghost, Kitty. I'm sure we'll think of something. Goodness!" She held up the chain with a clamp at either end and another chain with a clasp at one end and a clamp at the other. "You're a lovely surprise." She kissed me and then took out the cuffs and straps that had been left by a woman called Jerry who had worked in the theatre, and who'd been both before and after Hilary. We'd got pretty close and she loved to restrain me for long and tormenting edging sessions. I didn't tell Anika that bit. I had been sad when she disappeared to marry an actress from Edinburgh whom she had met during the Fringe.

Anika replaced all the items in the drawer and said, "Right, let's go up in the world. I'll be giving you a school jumpsuit to wear. It'll be the best thing for you. So you only need to wear jeans and some trainers or something like that. Obviously no heels."

"Shall I follow you down?"

"I'm happy to bring you back. But you might have time to stay for a day or two? We could start your lessons?" I thought we already had, I smiled and she grinned. "Bring a change of anything you think you might need and a toothbrush."

She drove a dark green 2 seater with the roof down at breakneck speed, confidently and competently. The rush of the air and the noise of the engine and tyres made conversation a bit difficult but I was satisfied with her company and warm smile now and then. We took a sharp turn off the A road and there, in front of me were the words, 'Da Silva's Airfield and Flying School' emblazoned on a large board. She eased us past the hoarding and we were in the airfield and I saw a few aircraft, tethered to the ground and covered with plane-shaped canvas. To one side of the long flat stretch of grass that was the landing strip (stop it!) was a small 2 storey building with 'CONTROL TOWER' painted badly on one side. Two wind socks billowed from poles at either end of the strip. Anika told me to wait for her while she checked into the the tower, which made her sound like Anne Boleyn and I laughed. "Make sure the receptionist in't carrying an axe!"

She returned to the car and drove through an open gate onto a driveway that led up to her house. "We'll get your bag into the house and find you a jump suit that almost fits and then we'll go and do your first lesson. How does that sound?" It sounded great to me.

About 20 minutes later, wearing a dark blue jump suit like hers I walked with her back to the airfield. She got a bit cross when I referred to the jump suit as a romper suit, which, of course, made me do it more often.

The first half hour was spent in the classroom, where she explained a little about how flight works, but more about what and what not to do. The plane was, I learned, a Cessna and walked across to it where someone had removed the covers and released the tether. "They are made to fly but we prefer it if they only fly when we're in them and in control!" That made perfect sense to me. I followed her as she walked around the aircraft, checking for damage or obvious faults like flat tyres and so on. All through she explained what she was doing and why.

Once we were on board and she had started the engine the noise was mitigated by the very comfortable headphones we both wore. "An intercom and radio," she had explained. She then started to speak to the Tower and I'd been warned not to try to speak to her when she on the radio. So I didn't.

We were given permission to take off and we bumped along to the start of the strip and then, the engine noise increasing, we tore along the bumpy track until, all of a sudden, we were flying. I hope I didn't actually whoop but Anika gave me a sideways look and smiled. "Fun, huh?" Oh yes, it really is. I was trying hard to be mature about this; failing though.

I was permitted to put my hands on the control column and my feet on the pedals but only so that I might feel how Anika was controlling the aircraft (Not a 'plane' I was instructed firmly). At one point she said, "I'm going to take my hands away, so you have the control. If anything needs to be done, I'll take over again." I was terrified but elated. "Relax, Kitty, or you'll chew through your tongue." For five minutes that had seemed longer than the twenty we'd been aloft, I held that column and did nothing whatever in terms of steering, climbing or descending and yet I felt like a real pilot. When she took the controls back into her own hands, I realised how tense and excited I had been. I gave her a huge mile and she reached across to pat my knee. "Well done."

She brought us back to the airfield and we landed so softly, it was only because of the bumpy ground that I was aware we were down. She taxied to the point where she kept the aircraft and switched the engine off. I removed my headset and we both got out and, standing on terra firma once more, I threw my arms around her neck and gave her the best kiss I could muster.

She gave me a mock ticking off. "My staff and students will be appalled." Right. She proved she wasn't serious by kissing me, hard and deep and smiling. "You enjoyed?"

It was ok. She tilted her head and smiled. "Students have been spanked for that sort of behaviour." I said nothing, but I thought, well, good oh.

I was still high on when we got to Anika's house. I simply was unable to stop smiling. My mouth had assumed a sort of' 'rigor risus.' I kept telling her how much I had enjoyed myself: babbling about the view, the sensation, the fact I didnt throw up, and so on. She kissed me more in an attempt to shut me up than anything. "We'll eat down at the pub this evening. Let's have a shower and a," she paused for a little, "and a rest?"

In the shower she let me wash her slowly and everywhere and then she returned the favour. Standing at my side rather than behind me, she let the drenching shower head cover me and soaped me, gently, with her mouth right beside me ear. A soapy finger lid between my thigh, opening my cunt lips and she gave a small murmur of approval when she discovered my clit was wide awake. It was then that she tightened her embrace and i felt her soap-covered thumb pressing, lightly, against my bum. She had already managed me there at some length and it was only a few seconds before she bit my earlobe and said, "Relax, Kitty," a second before her thumb breached any resistance I was offering and I felt myself wonderfully invaded. I groaned and she asked if I was ok. I turned my head towards her, and kissed her as hard as I could in that position. I also pressed down a little, on the simple notion that actions speak louder than words.

I was hungry when I woke up in the morning. You might have predicted that we hadn't made it to the pub.

The day passed in a blur of good breakfast, quick shower and dress, and then to the airstrip, the the walk around which she made me do alone while she watched from a few yards away and then alongside her. I missed a couple of things but she was generally pleased with my memory and a few moments later I was strapped in the seat, headphones on, and thrilling to the sounds and smells and everything about the whole experience. I was like a kid at her first visit to a zoo.

Later, when everyone but me was back on the ground, since in my head I was still at 1500 feet with a plane (sorry! 'aircraft') under my control, we went back to her house and, having changed and showered and, well, you will know and what, she drove me back to the big house.

As she was about to leave she held me close and kissed me. "You don't want exclusive, do you?" I asked what she meant. "I wont lie to you if I have other women, and I wouldn't want you to be hurt. So, if you want us to be exclusive, tell me now." She said it gently as she stroked my hair back behind my ear.

Somehow I felt relieved. I knew she'd have other women. We know don't we?

"Please," I said, "just be completely honest with me and I'll be the same. I'm never going to let anyone hurt me like the Bitch did."

She smiled. "That, Kitty, is not going to happen, I promise."

~

I mentioned Gillian, Barbara's mother-in-law earlier in this narrative. A former dancer, singer and actor in a wide range of musicals, (too tall, she'd told me, for classical ballet) she and I had danced the Charleston at Barbara's wedding.

She had suggested that the Big House would be a fabulous venue for a whole variety of entertainment; from recitals to murder mystery dinners, medieval banquets and, perhaps, Octoberfest. "Make it classy and expensive and get guests to shell out for charities as well?" I didn't say anything at the time but mulled the suggestion.

A few days later, I went up to London to discus the idea with Barbara. When I 'phoned to see when I could drop in, she laughed, "Anika's in town for a few days, I imagine?"

"Actually, no. Anika has been given a job to fly an executive jet for some unnamed person and entourage to the US and fly them around for, I think, about a month."

"Where are you now?" I told her that I was outside the pub close to her mews house. "I'll come and have a drink there, maybe dinner too.

Barb arrived in a new car. "I picked it up yesterday. It's gorgeous, isn't it?" She was not wrong. It was a Jaguar, sleek, low and blue. Exiting the car like a woman who'd been taught how to conceal her knickers from passers-by, she swivelled her bum on the black leather seat and placed both well-shod feet on the floor, knees together and stood to kiss me hello.

She was classy, my sister. She was wearing a dress that emphasised all her best features, matching her blue eyes and highlighting her long neck and shapely legs. Her husband was a very lucky man. He was also it transpired, on a research mission to Mauritius as part of a group of our selfless lawmakers interested in agrarian economies and, of course, freebies. Barbara's word, not mine.

Over a glass of wine, I outlined Gillian's suggestion and my thoughts.

"I thought we could try a couple of pilot events, no intended reference to Anika." Barb smirked. "If we were to create a new company and fund it, we could hire The Big House to the company and let it create events in the House itself or the Gardens or both."

"Like my wedding?"

"Exactly. We engage Gillian as artistic director or something and let her use her experience and contacts book to select guests who'd come and pay for quality entertainment and contribute to some worthy causes."

I stayed the night with Barb in her mews flat where, once, my french lover had stayed. I wondered then, as I do now why I didn't seem to hang on to gorgeous women.

The weather was bright and cold, the pavements outside frosted like the trees. We had scrambled eggs on that and smoked salmon, orange juice and black coffee at Barbara's favourite local cafe and, as we ate and chatted, she said, "Call Gillian. See if she fancies the job you described. How do you feel about that?"

"Why don't you call her? She's your mother-in-law, after all."


"Which might make her feel obliged." I nodded. "And she fancies you." Don't be ridiculous. Barb did her enigmatic smile and passed me a note with her Gillian's number and address.

~~

The Big House Events Company

It was about a month later that I called Gillian and told her I wanted to discuss her idea with her in more detail. I told her she'd be more than welcome to come to the Big House or the Lodge unless she'd prefer me to drive up and see her in London.

"No, no," she said quickly, "I'd love to come down."

I suggested she arrive in daylight since it was late November and the days were short and the lanes around the Big House were narrow. She agreed and in the failing light of the late afternoon she drove up to the hard standing outside the Lodge. I heard her car as she drove over the gravel. I'd be prepping our supper and I wiped my hands to get them clean before going to open the door and greeting her. I took her overnight bag from her and led her into the kitchen which despite the November weather was warm and welcoming thanks to a large log burner in one corner, and the Aga.

I helped her out of her blue woollen overcoat and almost, but happily not in fact, groaned when I saw the black leather culottes she was wearing, with a pair of black, fairly flat-heeled granny boots that, she told me, she only wore when she drove. I said I'd take her bag up to her room while the tea brewed and she followed me up the stairs. The view was of course not to be seen in the gloom but knew when she woke in the morning she'd love it.

I poured tea and we sat at my kitchen table and talked.

"I guess my first thought is, that since you're here, you must have at least an interest in whet we discussed?"

Gillian smiled. "You are absolutely right. The fact is I loved the dance we did at the wedding, and I also loved dancing with you. For a novice, you were really rather remarkable."

Between you and me, my beloved reader, that was not the first time someone had said that to me. Nothing whatever to do with my dancing skills I assure you and, well, I was not a novice nun either, in case that was what you thought. It was, in fact the first woman I ever went down on. She was almost exactly as much older than I as was Gillian. Happy memories.

"You're very patient and kind."

"The thing is, the Big House is perfect for the sorts of events I'd like to direct. Things that fit the surroundings, like a masqued ball or a murder at a banquet."

"The oldest bit of the house was built in 1670. And the chapel at the top of the rise, which you could see from here if it were daylight, was actually late medieval, 1470 or something like that."

We had a couple of g+t's and then I produced supper, around 8, which was salmon wellington and potatoes (mashed with a little mustard)from the Big House kitchen garden with chard in a lemon and cream sauce. It seemed to delight Gillian. As did the rather lovely white rioja I had discovered in the cellar in the lodge. "Please dont think i know anything about wine. I'd asked our local wine merchant to take a couple of cases of our 'vescence' in exchange for his opinion and it seemed he liked it a lot so he brought me a case of mixed stuff which I'd then placed in the rack in the cellar next to a few bottles I had brought with me when I moved in."

"Well, I do know a bit about wine and your wine merchant has great taste." I was glad she approved. Glad too when she said how much she had enjoyed the salmon. I'm a bit fussy about salmon, never having been keen on the farmed variety. Not because of the taste, but because I reckon anything that swims from a British river to the North Atlantic and back must at the very least be fit! I try when possible to get salmon fished from a Scottish river. Gillian gave me a little more approval.

We sat at the table after I had cleared away the debris of the meal, and made coffee and delivered two glasses of Calvados. I then showed her a list of events I reckoned we might be able to host. We talked quite late into the night until, around midnight, Gillian said she thought it was time for bed. There was no suggestion that she meant bed to gather and so, may slightly disappointed, I kissed her chastely on the cheek and she went off to her room.

I sent a text to Barb. 'I think Gillian is up for the job. She's in bed alone and so you were talking out of your fundament! K.' Despite the hour, she sent, by way of response, an image of a smirky face.

~

I tapped on Gillian' door at 8 the next morning, when I had promised to awaken her. The sun was low and had made the view from my kitchen a mix of light and dark relief. I heard Gillian say, 'hello,' and i opened the door to be greeted by the delicious sight of my guest, standing, looking out on to the view, her dancer's bum beautifully encased in dark blue silk pyjamas. My dressing gown suddenly made me feel shabby.

"I brought you tea, I hope that's ok? I can always go back and make coffee if you'd prefer."

She turned and smiled. "Tea is absolutely the only civilised drink at this time of day."

I walked across the room and placed her drink on the window ledge.

"Thank you, Kitty. What a fabulous morning. And I don't remember staying anywhere with a better rural landscape than this." She pointed out to the rise up to the old chapel.

I agreed and said, I'd leave her to enjoy the tea and the view but she held my arm. "Before you go, Kitty. I wondered if I might just ask a question." Of course. "I half expected Anika to be here, Anika Da Silva." Why? "Barbara told me you'd got close to her."

"She agreed to teach me to fly and I have been taking lessons. We have become good friends."


"Not partners?"

"No, Gillian. Anika likes to enjoy people, not be restrained by one."

"Are you ok with that?"

"Mind if I ask why you're asking?"

"Because I'm interested."

Still holding my arm, she turned and faced me and after a moment's hesitation, she kissed me full on my lips, which had opened without any conscious decision on my part. I slipped my arms around her and pressed myself against her. She undid the belt of my gown and slid her hands inside, touching my hips over my old and worn cotton nightdress that I would never have worn if I'd known she might see it. She didn't seem to mind.

She sat on the bed and sipped her tea. "I wanted to do that last night, but I somehow didn't feel the moment was right. And I wanted to clarify the situation with Anika. I hope you don't mind?"

"Which bit?"

"Asking about Anika."

"No, I think you were very thoughtful. I do mind," and here I smiled, "that I slept alone last night."

It was the arrival of my younger sister that put a stop to that nonsense. I heard her car and admitted to Gillian that I'd forgotten she would be arriving. Before we knew it Barb had arrived at the bedroom door and gave a brief tap before opening it.

"Good morning, Mother in Law! Hello sister. You, Kitty, look awfully guilty." She smiled.

"She has nothing to be guilty about, Barbara."

"She always has something to be guilty about! Not least, wearing that tatty old nightdress. I told her it is a natural contraceptive and she should burn it."

Taking the sting out of her words she kissed me and said, "Why don't you go and get dressed and we can meet in your lovely kitchen where you will discover I have brought croissants. See you down in the kitchen, Ma."

With that she clattered off and Gillian kissed me properly again. "Best," I said, "we do as she says. She's a tyrant." I turned to leave, but had a thought. "Will Paul be ok about this?"

"If he isn't he can get stuffed."

Right.