Secret Seductress (What's Her Secret?) (3 page)

Back at the chest of drawers, I felt around at the back until I touched a cardboard package. I withdrew it, pleased to note one set of stockings were inside. In the past I’d been known to put empty packets back in cupboards and drawers, so it was a miracle this one still had something in it. Carefully, so as not to snag them, I sat on the bed and drew them up my legs, instantly feeling transformed and more like Pussy than ever before—whoever the hell she was.

I had to have a style, something in the way I moved and spoke that told him Pussy was a woman who could fulfill all his fantasies. Who knew, if we did do something naughty tonight, he might want to come back for more. I’d have a filthy little secret that I could keep to myself, and when we were all in the pub, I could smile at thoughts of what we’d done. That all depended on whether he was up for it—or if he could get it up. He’d sunk quite a few beers tonight, and that played with a man’s libido.

It wasn’t his libido I intended playing with, though. I wanted to finally get that cock in my hand, in my mouth, in me and shag him senseless.

With the stay-up stockings on, I went back to the wardrobe and found a pair of black stilettos that didn’t pinch or rub. Slipping them on, I felt super sexy and all kinds of rampant. Another quick look in the mirror told me I had to sort my hair, so I pulled it into a messy up-do that spoke of sex sirens and women who knew what they were about in the bedroom. I turned and spotted something dangling out of my drawer, then smiled as I realized what it was. A pair of silky fingerless gloves that, when I put them on, reached halfway up the tops of my arms. Oh, yes, I was really going for it tonight. But when I’d waited so long for this, who could blame me?

I remade my bed and thought back to the Facebook comments. If Gary did as he’d said, Leon would be wearing a blindfold when he arrived. I hoped he was, I could
really
get into role then. I wouldn’t be shy or worry what he thought if he couldn’t see me, just as I’d been in the pub.

I thought of something else then, and stood upright to stare into space. Gary had put a blank line in one of his answers, and it was obvious it had been in place of a name. Leon must have his eye on someone—someone he cared enough about to be a bit wary of visiting Pussy Pwoar. He hadn’t mentioned having a girlfriend or fancying anyone. But then again, would he share that sort of thing with me and Jen? Was it just a man-to-man thing, divulging that kind of information?

So, unless I gave him a night to remember and made him want to return, tonight could well be the only time I got to fuck him.

I had to make it good.

The doorbell chimed and I jumped, flapping my hands in front of my face to cool the sudden heat that was burning the hell out of my cheeks.

“Oh, God!” I whispered. “Calm down. Bloody calm down.”

I trotted out of my room and down the hall toward the front door at the end. It felt like my last mile, and that when I’d finished walking I’d be facing the electric chair. Taking a deep breath then blowing it out slowly, I nodded—as if that was going to make me feel better—then pressed the intercom button on the wall.

“Who is it?” I asked in my gravelly Pussy tones.

“Gary and Leon,” Gary said. “Open up, I’ve got something for you.”

I pressed the other button, the one that opened the main door to the street, and heard their footsteps as the pair of them came upstairs. I took some more steadying breaths then leaned forward to look through the peephole. There they were, Gary and Leon, on the other side of my front door. Leon did indeed have a blindfold on—and a cerise rose held between his teeth.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I muttered. “What the hell is Gary playing at?”

Before I could go into that, I drew the chain across then opened the door. Gary stared at me wide-eyed, looking me up and down.

“Fucking hell, Pussy!” he said.

“Come in,” I said, stepping back to let them in.

I pressed my back to the wall as they squeezed past, Leon up front and Gary holding onto his arm to usher him through.

“The bedroom,” I said, deciding I’d take the lead from now on—and also take what I wanted before some other woman claimed him. “Sit him on the chair by the window. Get his coat off too. And his shoes.”

I pushed the front door to and waited for Gary to return. I’d be getting rid of him. No way could I perform knowing he was in the corner or in the living room, possibly listening to every grunt and groan. The seconds it took for Gary to do as I’d asked seemed to stretch on forever. I was just about to go in search of him when he appeared at the end of the hallway. He strode toward me.

“I never would have thought,” he said quietly, coming to a stop in front of me, “that our little Mad Mandy would look like this without her normal clothes on.”

“Keep your sinning little eyes to yourself,” I whispered.

“Seems a waste for Leon in there.” He jerked his head in the direction of the bedroom. “He isn’t going to see any of this.” Gary gestured to my outfit.

“No, and you wouldn’t have either if I’d had my way. Why don’t you nip next door while me and Leon get down to business?”

Gary looked startled. “What, to Jen’s?”

I sighed. “Yes, who else bloody well lives next door? If you can’t see what’s right in front of your face when it comes to her…”

He laughed. “Says you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m off to see Jen.”

“You might want to knock hard. She was out for the count when I left her.”

“Don’t you worry about what I’m doing.” He smiled. “You just see to him in there.”

Chapter Three

“Are you in here?” Leon said around the rose between his teeth.

I didn’t respond, just stared at him from my position leaning on the doorjamb.

“Pussy? You there?”

“I am,” I said. “And be quiet. I want to inspect the goods.”

“Goods?”

“Quiet!” I said, louder.

He was quite the most perfect man I’d ever seen—perfect for me, anyway. A specimen whose rugged looks far exceeded those of the men who usually set their caps at me. They were clean-shaven, the type who used moisturiser and preened in front of the mirror for half an hour before they left the house to go out on the pull. If they had a blemish, they’d run screaming to their sisters, asking to borrow some spot cream. Why I attracted them I didn’t know. I preferred men like Leon, and Leon wore the just-got-out-of-bed look so well the trend could have been based on him.

I stepped forward and walked to him, making sure my shoes clicked on the wooden floor, a steady beat designed to get him going. I wondered what it was like to have your sight removed, where you just had to rely on sounds to tell you what was going on. I imagined it heightened the experience, gave it an edge. He straightened his back and cocked his head a bit, breathing out steadily, although it did have a little quiver to it. Was he nervous or just aroused?

“What are you expecting from tonight?” I asked, the remnants of alcohol giving me the courage I needed to pull this off. I fingered the tops of my stockings.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Gary just told me… He said I wouldn’t regret it.”

“What will your girlfriend think if she finds out?” I had to know one way or the other. I stroked his face with the backs of my fingers—his stubble rasped—and a thorn from the rose stem scratched my wrist.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” He smiled—just about.

“I see. Do you have your eye on someone?”
Do you? Have you set your sights on some blonde with big tits and a pert little arse?

“There is someone, yes.” He sighed, his cheeks puffing out. The rose fell to his lap. “But it’s…awkward.”

“What is?”

“Her and me. She doesn’t know how I feel. I keep meaning to tell her but…nah, she wouldn’t be interested.”

She’d be crazy if she wasn’t. Silly cow, whoever she is.
“So what we do tonight, that wouldn’t be…awkward?”

“I don’t know what we’re doing, do I?” His forehead creased.

I hoped he wasn’t getting annoyed with me. Wished it was just frustration making him frown like that. “Oh, come on. You can guess, can’t you? Your friend has set you up—in the pub and now here. He obviously thinks you need a bit of excitement in your life. A woman.”

“I do but…” He paused. Tilted his head the other way. “I know you, don’t I? You smell like someone I know.”

I did a good job of not gasping. “You don’t know Pussy Pwoar, no. That’s my name for tonight.”

He smiled, as though a penny had dropped. I didn’t know what to do, felt the need to keep busy, so swiped the rose up and drew it down the side of his face. Across his slightly open mouth. Over his chin then down to his Adam’s apple.

“Do you like the feel of that?” I asked, needing to change the subject.

He nodded.

“Soft as a woman’s cunt, isn’t it?” I gawped at what I’d said. This Pussy really knew how to get saucy.

“Shit…”

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“No, carry on. I just didn’t expect you to say something like that.”

I trailed the rose down some more until it reached his groin. “I could say a lot of things that would shock you. Like I want to suck your cock. That I’d like you to finger my cunt and make me come.” I twirled the rose petals against his jeans, the action more to titillate rather than him actually feeling anything. “And that. What does me doing that make you feel?”

“Like I want to do all the things you mentioned.”

I tossed the flower onto the bed then knelt in front of him. Pushing his legs apart, I settled between them. “We can do that.”

He created fists on his thighs, and I covered them with my hands, taking hold then raising them so they were on my head. He unflexed his fingers and sank them into my hair, roving them over my scalp. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the experience of being so close to him. My breaths were shortening, and my heart beat so hard the sound of it echoed in my head for several hard thuds before it lowered in volume. Noises from outside drifted up—people leaving the Chinese, cars swooshing by, taxis most probably, the odd shout from a drunkard—and they seemed a million miles away. It was so quiet in here apart from us breathing and the now-dull thump of my heart that it was like we were the only people on the planet.

As he continued to fondle my hair, I stared at the white T-shirt that had been lifted in the pub. It seemed days ago, months, even, that I’d bitten his nipple and felt his skin on mine. I wanted that again, to give me a fresh reminder, so I raised it up a little, exposing his belly and the dark hairs covering it. I reached out and touched, loving the tickle of his hairs on my hands, between my fingers, then pushed upwards until his nipples grazed my palms. This was where I was meant to be, with him, alone like this.

I lightly pinched his nipples between fingers and thumbs, watching his face with every gentle tug and twist. I could only imagine he had his eyes closed. His mouth was a tight line, as though he were fighting with inner thoughts or his conscience. He groaned, just a small one, but it was enough for me to know he liked tit play.

“So you like that,” I said, “and I know you like this.” I leaned forward and took one nipple into my mouth, treated him to the same as he’d had in The Rusty Nail.

He smelled of Beck’s and aftershave—a scent I found wholly sexy—and I moaned myself. My doing that had him scrunching my hair tight, pulling it so my head bent to one side. The act set my clit to throbbing, my cunt getting wet. I eased back, taking his nipple with me, and he groaned again, louder, and for longer this time. As I suckled and nipped, I undid the button on his jeans then drew down his zip. I wanted to see his cock, not just feel it, so I released his nipple then looked down.

He didn’t wear boxer shorts. His cock jutted out from between the opening of his jeans, the zip like tiny gold teeth either side of it. I was suddenly jealous of those teeth so I swooped my head down and licked up the length of him, my tongue wide and flat. God, he tasted good, and as my tongue reached the tip his dick jerked. I swirled around the top while he pressed his fingertips to my head, and I brought one hand up to hold him at his base. Opening my mouth, I plunged down on him, going as far as I could until the end hit the back of my throat. I pulled up, suction hard, and smiled around him as he moaned again.

“You’re good at that,” he said breathlessly, putting more pressure on my head.

I allowed him to direct how it went—the depth, the speed—and it seemed he wanted it done slowly. I clenched my cunt muscles—this was getting to me—and tiny flickers pulsed in my clit. He pressed his inner thighs against me, pinning me there, and with my free hand I reached up to tweak his nipple once more. He let go of my hair, going by feel alone, sliding two fingertips down my cheek then lower to skim the top of my chest. His touch burned. He stilled at the corset, feeling it as much as he was able due to my hunched-over position.

“Leather,” he said. “Christ, you’re wearing leather.”

I bobbed on his cock, sucking him harder.

He swept his fingers across the swells of my breasts spilling over the top of the corset, then encountered the zip. He tugged on it, opened it a little, and slid his hand inside.