Fiction - "A Fantasy between Courses"

[Tobbe]

A Fantasy between Courses Story by Mike Vickers

"More wine, Sir?" inquired the waiter politely.

"Yes, please." Mark edged his glass forward and glanced up from his Stroganoff.

"And the lady?" Fiona nodded, though her glass was already being filled. Having discharged his duties, the waiter retired to tum his attention to neighbouring tables.

"Now do tell me more about this erotic fantasy," she urged.

"I can't - nothing at all comes to me; it's a case of total burnout," he replied.

"That can't be true," she said incredulously. They ate in silence for a few more minutes, sitting in a secluded corner of the pub, away from the other tables.

"Have you had any erotic fantasies today?" Mark asked suddenly.

"Naturally," she smiled.

"Then give me a hand. I've got to get something down on paper or my publisher will have my head."

She thought about it for a moment. "OK, we'll take turns. I´l start and well! just let our imaginations run and see where they take us." She paused and then leaned forward, bringing her face close to his.

"A man is on his way home, through town. It's very late two or maybe three o'clock in the morning. The rain has just let up and tiny puddles at the edge of the pavement reflect the orange glare of the street lamps. He has quite a way to go and has taken a risky short cut through a seedy part of town. It's cold and damp; he has his hands buried deep in his coat pockets.

"Suddenly he stops. There was a movement out the are in an entryway. He pulls his hands out of his pockets and makes a fist; his eyes scan the street, looking for a likely escape route. He is completely alone here. He steps up toward the entrance and glimpses a woman's silhouette, the face hidden in the shadows. He pulls up short, glances at her briefly, and moves to continue onward.

"'Have you got the time?' she asks in a deep, smoky voice.
He turns around to face her."

Fiona sat back with a smile. "It's your turn, now!" She nipped at her wine.

Mark didn't miss a beat and continued with the story.

"'Of course - ten after three,' the man replied, 'and the weather report is for dark, cold and wet.'

'''Thanks!'

''A strained silence ensured. He is just on the point of turning to go as she asks, 'Have you ever put yourself in the shoes of a women walking around town at this time of night?'

'" Risky, I' d venture.'

"'Exactly.' She appeared to be waiting for him to make an offer.

'" I could give you same company. I feel a bit deserted out here, too,' he finally said.

'''Thanks. I live about a half mile from here. If you'll walk me home you can have cup of hot coffee and call a taxi!' Her voice was entrancing - deep and throaty, floating out of the shadows.

"'Fine with me,' he smiled.

"'There's just one catch,' she then said. 'My wrists are handcuffed.'''

Fiona had to smile as Mark paused; her eyes sparkled in the candlelight. After thinking far just a second, she took up the thread of the story.

"He was more than surprised as she stepped out of the shadows. She was wearing an ankle-Iength, black latex cape.
Glistening folds rustled at every movement. Her pale face was framed by the hood that she wore well down over her eyes.
The shiny tips of her highly polished boats sparkled from beneath the hem of the cape. He swallowed ... hard.

'''Well, I see you're properly dressed for a rainy evening. But what's this about handcuffs?'

''A fleeting smile played across her face. 'I was at a party. A very special party. My boyfriend and I were on the way home when I learned that he had been together with someone else. We fought and the idiot just left me here. The key to the handcuffs is hanging around my neck.'

"He just stared at her.

'" If you don't believe me, then just open the cape!' She threw back her head as he drew nearer and began fumbling under her chin, seeking the fastener for the cape. In a single sweep he pulled down the zipper and the rubber rustled as he threw back the lapels. Revealed was a blackly shimmering figure, glittering in the rays of the lamps. Her rubber-swathed body trembled in the night's cold. A sweet, warm scent made its way to his nostrils; he breathed deeply the aroma of her rubber-bound body. She turned slightly and showed him her wrists, bound behind her back with the handcuffs. He took the key from around her neck and re!eased her.

"'Thank you,' she said and rubbed her wrists where the steel had left its mark. He gave her the handcuffs and dared an experiment. 'I actually thought it nicer when you were cuffed and wrapped up in your cape,' he said, testing the waters. She looked up, her dark eyebrows knit in question marks. They gazed at one another silently for a few seconds and then she gave him back the key. With an ease that indicated she was not new to the business she crossed her arms again behind her back. Without a word he closed the zipper on the cape and guided her out into the street. They sped off."

Fiona set aside her empty plate, her expression one of satisfaction. She let a hand drop under the table, glanced around her briefly, and began stroking her thighs, her warm fingertips tracing gentle circles over the soft flesh. The waiter c!eared the dishes and they waited for dessert.

"Well, get on with it," she said impatiently.

Mark thought for a while, though distracted by the stirring of his cock. He moved carefully to find a mare comfortable position. The story was beginning to turn him on. Then he continued.

"They quickly left the dingy neighbourhood, the staccato tapping of her high heels piercing the otherwise quiet night. She seemed to have no difficulty at all negotiating her way with her hands bound. He was completely enchanted by the sticky whisper of her rubber cape.

"'Tell me more about this party,' he requested when he finally broke the silence. She began almost instantly:

"'There's a powerful and widely acknowledged connection between the clothes we wear and our sexuality. We dress to stay warm and to express our sexual state.'

"'What about the church?' he thought aloud, coming up with one apparent exception.

'There they dress to stay warm - have you ever seen a properly heated church?' They both giggled. 'What I'm trying to explain for you is that most people dress on certain occasions or in certain locations in such away that one can draw certain conclusions about the state of the wearer's sexuality. Not everyone is aware of this, but same know quite exactly and these people congregate at special parties. That's where I was.' .

'''So ... everybody wears rubber at these parties?'

"She nodded: :And leather - and vinyl - and fantasy costumes are also on hand along with corsets, high heels and bondage outfits.'

'''Sounds interesting. How do I join?' he questioned, hall' jokingly.

"Maybe you' re a member already,' she teased. They continued walking; the rain had started again. He flipped up his collar, trying to keep dry but the wetness penetrated his coat and cold erect through his bones.

"I'm getting damned wet,' he murmured.

'" You're obviously not dressed for the weather. I've got nothing to complain about.'

"He looked at her, safe and dry in her latex cocoon. The rain pattered on her shoulders and rivulets snaked their way down the folds of the cape.

"They reached her flat. He followed her up the stairs and to the darkened door. Rain beat down on the roof as he took the keys from around her neck and opened the door. They stepped in and closed out the wet night. Reluctantly he unfettered her again. She stepped out of the cape and hung it up to drip.

"'Do take off that wet coat. I'll get the coffee going.' She went into the parlor, lit the fire and disappeared into the kitchen. In just a few minutes she returned with two steaming mugs. They stood close together, backs to the fire, and sipped the hot brew.

"'Aren't you going to change?' he asked as his view drifted across the glittering rubber on her body. The outfit was perfectly tailored, following every curve and emphasizing her breasts and hips. Her entire body was enclosed in the narrow piece of clothing that reached up in a high, tight collar right up under her chin and ears.

"'Why should I? I consider myself to be completely clothed and feel warm and cosy. Can you claim the same?' She laughed and pointed at him. 'You're fairly steaming!'

"In fact, little puffs of steam were rising from his trousers.
'You're the one who ought to get out of those damp things I'll get you something else to pull on!'

"When she returned she was carrying a rubber suit over her arm and threw him a towel.

"'Take a quick shower and put this on. The rain has gotten heavier. Maybe you ought to spend the night here.'''

Fiona interrupted. "I hardly think so!" Her eyes lit up and her cheeks had flushed. She had hungrily listened to his tale, her fingers unrelentingly busy at her thighs and between her legs. She turned on her chair when he stopped.

"What difference does it make?" he replied. "It´s just a game - and in your imagination every thing's possible!"

Dessert arrived. Fiona puIled herself together and smiled as the waiter set the pastry in front of her. Mark went to work at his sherbet right away. They were both silent, but Fiona's free hand resumed its play under the table. Mark looked around - no one could see. He reached under the table and stroked her bare knee. She shivered at his touch and rolled her eyes.

"The story!" he reminded her mockingly. She licked the whipped cream from the fork in a not-so-very-Iadylike way, and continued:

"He took a hot shower and put on the suit. The warm, dry, thoroughly powdered latex swished slightly as he puled it up and over his hips. His skin responded to the tight, pressing tension of the tight rubber. He returned to the parlor.

"'That's much better,' she said. 'I see you like it!' She pointed at the bulge that betrayed his excitement.

'''WeIl, there's no point in trying to hide it,' he grinned. She reached out and stroked his chin with her rubber fingers.

'" I appreciate your bringing me home. You weren't the first that I might have asked, but you were the first who m I thought I could trust.' She kissed his lips gently. He hugged her warm, sweet-smeIling body, felt the firm roundness of her breasts press against his naked chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stormily explored his mouth with her tongue, savouring the slow movement of his hands as they inched their way toward her buttocks, there to pull her closer to him. They stood like this a while in front of the fire, stroking each other softly. He traced her glistening contours, caressed her breasts and touching the hard nipples underneath the rubber skin. He felt her hand press against his erection as she thrust one glossy thigh between his legs.

"Finally she let him go and lead him by the hand to the bedroom. Hanging from chrome plated chains in the centre of the room was a trapeze with soft leather cuffs at both ends. She stood up on her tiptoes and grasped the bar. 'Tie me up.'

"He followed her command, laid the cuffs around her wrists and pulled the buckles tight. She was stretch ed out to full length, swaying to and fro slowly, with her eyes closed. He let his hands glide languidly over her arms, her breasts and on to her \Vaist and hips - and he sensed her skin's reaction beneath the gossamer layer. She breathed deeply as he spread her thighs and began stroking the insides. He sucked and licked the scented surface of her body, nibbled on her nipples and let his tongue investigate her navel, pressing the rubber skin inward. Then he turned her about and kissed each of her smooth, shiny nether cheeks lovingly. She turned at his attentions like a cat stretching in the sun, lifted her legs and laid them around his neck so that she was dangling by her arms only, and pressed her pelvis against his body with an expression of powerful desire ..."

Fiona had been speaking with feverish intensity, her voice heavy and breathy. She reached across the table and grasped Mark's wrist frantically. Her other arm continued working rhythmically under the table.

"The key!" she hissed hectically. "Give me the key!"

Fiona's grip tightened around his wrist and she began to tremble. The tip of her tongue flicked forward, licking the perspiration from her upper lip. Her fingers gripped his hands like a vise now as her passion exploded. A single, quiet sigh escaped her lips as she lost control.

Mark watched her orgasm slowly recede. He deliberately let his napkin fall to the floor and bent over to retrieve it. He pulled the tablecloth to the side and looked under the table. Fiona's legs were spread wide, her skirt slid up to her hips. Her tight, black latex panties glistened in the semi-darkness and the heavy silver chains which secured her chastity belt cut deep into her skin. Her swollen flesh puffed out the rubber of the panties on both sides of the chains. Two fingers were clamped between the chain and the latex ~ the odour of warm, moist rubber trailed to his nose.

He straightened up and noticed that the waiter was eyeing disapprovingly.

"Yes, what is it?" Mark asked hastily, hoping that the man wouldn't notice the blush that had risen to his cheeks.

"The lady would like cream with her coffee. And you?"

''Aaah, yes, please."

The waiter glanced at Fiona from under arched eyebrows and then turned and left. She had slumped in her seat, cheeks flushed and sweaty, moist strands of hair at her forehead.

"For goodness' sake, give me the key!" she whispered. "I can't get my hand loose - my fingers are caught in the chastity links!"

Mark stared at her in dismay. The blood had drained out of his complexion.

"What's wrong?" she moaned.

"I - I can't give you the key. I've left it at home!"

[fitherin]

Love the story line and the way it builds up expectations. Very well thought out esp as it is between two sides, his and hers. The climax or the need to climax is brilliant. Fingers stuck!!!! bad sub!
Part two will be difficult but I am sure you can make a good job of it!
Steve