The Ultimate Erotica Collection: 3 Books in 1 - Destined to Play, The Silver Chain, Run to You. Primula Bond
fantasy about two girls … He wouldn’t, he couldn’t! He helps me to my feet.
‘Are you sure you’re alright? You look pale.’ I feel green, so I can only imagine how ‘pale’ I look. Words elude me.
‘The girls are here to help you dress for our big adventure,’ he exclaims, true blue excitement in his voice.
‘I don’t want or need any more adventures, Jeremy. I have now had enough for a lifetime,’ I say in a harsh whisper, as I don’t know how near or far ‘the girls’ are from where I am. He raises me to my feet and leads me to the bathroom. Oh god, is he insane?
‘Don’t worry, it’s not what you think. They are here to help, I promise.’ He extracts his arms from my grip and hands me over to them. I start to tremble. One of my hands is placed in each of theirs. I try to keep hold of him but his touch is withdrawn.
‘No, please don’t leave me. I don’t need their help. I’ll be fine on my own. Jeremy?’ I hear the door close and I am left alone in a panicked state with two female strangers and their call girl names, who are faceless to me, though I am not to them. I feel long fingernails on the hands gently removing my robe. I instinctively hold onto it, tightening its grip around my waist. The fingernails try again as other hands undo the waist tie simultaneously. I attempt to distract the touching fingernails by talking to them.
‘I’m honestly fine, I can handle this. It’s okay, really.’ They continue on their quest. I am surprised when they remove my blindfold. I am now fully naked. I am placed on the toilet. I cover myself with my arms. The shower is turned on and I am led into it. The water sizzles against my goosebumped skin. My hair is washed, conditioned and massaged so delicately and carefully that I find myself relaxing into it more than I imagined possible. The fingernails become allies as they smoothly lather me up beneath their expert touch. When four hands are skilfully conducting their business over your body, do you prevent them or willingly allow them to complete their mission? I accede to the latter.
The products they are using smell divine and feel rich and luxurious against my skin, leaving me feeling velvety soft as I’m thoughtfully rinsed clean with the steaming water cascading down from above. No words are spoken as I am exited from the shower and thick plush towels dry every inch of my body. Smooth, silky, moisturised hands glide along my legs, arms and torso. They lift one foot at a time and massage between each and every toe sending reverberations to other less obvious parts of my body. Wow, I had no idea toes could have that effect. When their task is complete I am carefully re-robed and I breathe a sigh of relief that they went no further. I feel so soft, so ripe, so replenished and I smell like I’ve been ensconced in an exotic genie-bottle of Coco Mademoiselle. I would hug myself, if I were alone. My hair is blow dried, then tightly bound into a low French braid. I attempt to open my eyes but my lids are still so heavy it hurts to try, so my grey darkness continues, with or without a blindfold, into the next unknown.
I hear a rustling sound as I am ushered out of the bathroom, into the walk-in robe. I am then zipped and buckled into a leather all-in-one suit with thick knee-high boots, and gloves that just so happen to fit perfectly. Surprise, surprise! Every part of my body is clad in the aroma and feel of leather. Large sunglasses complete the look as I lose all sense of light when they are wrapped around my eyes. Good old Jeremy hasn’t left anything to chance.
In some respects, I am thankful I can’t see how ridiculous I look. I have no idea what I’m dressed for, except that Jeremy must have some full-on leather fantasy that I was completely unaware of. I jingle as I move because of the number of zips and studs strapping the outfit securely to the contours of my body. I envisage I look quite punk-like, imagining the leather is black but I have no idea. I would roast him if it were any other colour, come to think of it; imagine if it were some hideous hot pink! Although I feel hefty and resilient from the neck down, I am completely vulnerable from the chin up. I have no idea what I am doing in this heavyweight outfit and certainly hadn’t considered the prospect of leaving the hotel. But I guess, since I’ve been having such an extended run of incorrect assumptions, I should have expected as much.
‘Wow, you look fierce, Alexa, like a tough biker chick. If I didn’t know you I’d be scared shitless.’
‘And if I didn’t know you, Jeremy, I wouldn’t be dressed like this in the first place,’ I say, with my hands firmly planted on my hips.
‘Fair call,’ he says with a laugh. ‘Fair call.’
Inwardly, I love the idea of looking ‘fierce’ and am happy to play the role, even if I am as blind as a bat.
‘Let’s go, biker babe! There’s not a moment to waste.’ He grabs a handful of my smooth, leather-clad butt and leads me out the door to the lift. Is this all just a funny charade? Either way, I can’t help but find it amusing, so I grab his butt in return and feel that he is in the same material as me.
‘Well, well … we must look quite a sight.’
‘Indeed we do,’ he agrees as the lift descends.
***
We arrive and I sense, given the length of the time we are in the lift, that we must be at the lobby or parking area of the hotel. I nudge closer to him, knowing we are entering the ‘real world’, and my insecurities instantly come back to haunt me. He places me next to a wall.
‘Don’t move an inch, sweetheart. Just stay where you are and I’ll bring her around.’
‘Her?’ Insecurity rises to fear within the space of a millisecond. I clamber against the wall as he leaves me stranded. The roar of an engine coming to life makes me leap with fright as petrol fumes invade my nostrils. The sound and smell are close enough to touch as Jeremy grabs my hand and pulls me toward the monstrous noise.
‘Have you ever been on a bike before?’ he yells as he drags my hesitant leg over the throbbing beast.
‘Only a trail bike on a farm when I was growing up,’ I reply nervously.
‘Well, hold on tight, babe, ’cause you’re in for one hell of a ride.’ He sounds like a teenage kid who is driving his own car for the first time.
‘But I can’t see!’ I scream as he squeezes a helmet over my head and ensures my glasses are correctly positioned.
‘You don’t need to see, I do,’ he shouts back at me over the noise.
The engine growls to life underneath me. He laces my fingers together around his waist.
‘You just need to hold on!’
‘Do you have a licence to ride this thing?’ I yell in his direction.
‘You don’t need to shout. I can hear you now you have your helmet on.’ I hear his voice penetrating the inside of my helmet, straight into my ear. He ignores my question. Uh oh, I realise I have just asked another, and hope he hasn’t noticed.
‘Hold on, sweetheart, and try to calm your breathing just a little.’ He could obviously hear my anxiety through the helmet’s microphone.
‘Easier said than done!’ As the beast lurches forward, I’m almost left behind. I have no option but to hold on to him as tightly as possible as we swerve around a sharp corner. The wild ride of this weekend is clearly still in full octane swing.
We stop and start quite a bit for a while and it takes my balance a while to adjust to the unanticipated manoeuvres. Jeremy isn’t talking so I presume he is concentrating on city traffic, which is at least a little comforting. Now that I am on a motorbike, I don’t feel quite so conspicuous in my outfit. And at least I’m not wearing a blindfold. We pick up speed and the ride eventually becomes smooth, making it considerably more comfortable than the jerkiness of before, where I was continually bracing myself for the next move.
‘Are you alright back there?’
As I feel Jeremy readjust his position on the seat, I realise I am squeezing him so tight, he must be having difficulty breathing.
‘AB?’
My