Confessions of a Kinky Divorcee. Lana Fox
Читать онлайн книгу.
come out! Commit to being you.’
Well, that’s Evita. Sometimes, I wonder if, when she looks at the night sky, the stars spell out words that I just can’t see.
Shameful secret number two: when I went to bed last night, I left my peep-toe shoes by the front door, like I often do. The last thing I expected was what I saw, next morning. There I was, about to walk down the stairs, when I noticed Janey Prince in the entrance hall below me, kneeling on the carpet, wearing nothing but a black T-shirt. She was totally in profile, so I could see the swell of her bum from beneath the black fabric, and her long, slender legs. In her hands she was holding one of my black peep-toe shoes, turning it, gazing at it, running a fingertip down the stiletto heel. I caught my breath, but she can’t have heard, because she turned the shoe upside down and raised it to eye-level. She stared at the heel for a while before putting her face close and licking the length of it, slowly, giving a rough little growl.
Now, it’s not like me to pussyfoot around watching others, but heavens, it was Janey who was invading my space, right? Oh, but I was mesmerised, Kitten, standing there in my dressing gown, my heart thumping away, wet between my thighs. What if she licked my heel like that while I was wearing the shoes? What if she lay on the floor, and I slid the heel between her lips and made her, you know, suck it? What if she writhed around, enjoying every inch? And what if this turned me on so much that the moisture slid down my thighs, while she stared at me, lustfully, as I slid that heel in and out?
So you know what I did, Kitten? After she put my shoe down and walked towards the kitchen, all pale thighs and bed-ruffled hair, I went to the bathroom and pushed my fingers inside me and thought about wearing that peep-toe shoe and pressing the heel inside her. I thought about fucking her with it, Kitten, over and over again, while she rolled around, naked, gasping with pleasure. She was so wet that the heel slid in easily and was coated with more moisture at every thrust. And I imagined her coming, Kitten, while she watched me fucking her like that. I imagined her long moan and the way she thrust her hips, slamming her arms against the floor as if to brace herself. I imagined her body arching so much that her firm little breasts rose towards me, and she moaned on and on.
But you know what shames me the most, Kitten? When I touched myself in the shower with my fingers deep inside me, I came like I’ve never come before. So hard and deep that I lost my balance, and had to grasp the shower curtain to stop myself from falling. And then I came again and again and again, in a crescendo, Kitten – just nothing but scorching pleasure, over and over, until, once I’d finished, I found I’d been writhing so much that I was caught in the shower curtain. It was wrapped and twisted around me like a badly clingfilmed haddock, because of just how hard I’d come.
I can’t help wondering if Janey Prince heard me, Kitten, even though she was downstairs. I was so loud, that she surely couldn’t have missed it. And is it awful to say that the very idea made me touch myself again, and come again, hard, just to think of it?
That’s why I got to work late, Kitten. Yes, I, the manager, arrived later than the staff! Pearl, my assistant manager, was watching me sideways all afternoon, a suspicious look in her soft brown eyes that seemed to say, ‘I’m on to you.’
And I don’t have to tell you which shoes I wore to work.
Not that I’m a lesbian, Kitten. At least … no, I’m just playing with the thought.
But I haven’t given Janey a contract, just in case I can’t have her around, in case she spoils my career or puts me off men or makes a cradle-snatcher of me. Anyway, I suppose this is a trial period, really. Rent once a month. And I’ll keep an eye on things. I mean, who knows if I’ll be able to live with a twenty-three-year-old student?
And who knows if she’ll be able to live with me?
Chapter Two
A Well-Heeled Guy
Friday, 2 March
Dear Kitten,
Well, when I got home from work tonight, it was clear that Janey was properly moved in. The place smelled of incense, there was a dirty great footprint on the kitchen linoleum, and two new jackets – one in denim, one in leather – were hanging from the coat rack. But the real proof that my tenant was finding her feet was that I found her in the kitchen wearing tiny denim cut-offs that showcased her lovely thighs. She was chopping tomatoes with her earbuds in, and when I went over to say hello and tapped her on the shoulder, she almost hit the roof! That’s me for you. Pure Sagittarius. Got about as much tact as a prize-winning marrow.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, love,’ I told her, putting my hand on her arm.
She shook her head, taking out an earbud. She smelled beautiful – of incense and coconut soap and fresh tomatoes. ‘I’m glad of it,’ she said. ‘You interrupted the most boring podcast ever.’
‘What’s it about?’
‘The stiletto heel.’
It turns out she was listening to some lunatic professor who thinks high heels are a sign of women’s subjugation. ‘Maybe some of us want to be subjugated,’ I said, stealing a bit of tomato. When I looked back, she was shielding her grin with her fingers as if I’d said something delightfully naughty. Her eyes were what my friend Gladys would call fuck-you-blue. ‘Things are only subjugation if you don’t actually want them,’ I said. ‘I suppose I’d make a useless feminist.’
‘Actually,’ said Janey, ‘that’s the most feminist thing I’ve heard all day.’ She smiled openly now, surprisingly sunny-faced. Her eyes really are a marvellous shade of blue.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I should rest my feet. These shoes of mine are killing me.’ I noticed how her gaze immediately darted down to my shoes. ‘See you later,’ I said, turning away.
‘Wait,’ she said, catching my arm. ‘Lil’s coming by tonight. Is that OK?’
I said of course it was OK, she didn’t have to ask. And I felt a little relieved, as I turned away, because seeing Janey’s girlfriend would break this silly crush of mine. But as I walked towards the hallway I could feel Janey’s stare burning its way down the backs of my legs, and the sensation made me so lustful that I paused and glanced back. Her eyes were all big and gleaming, Kitten, as she drank in my burgundy five-inchers, teamed with sheer hose. She was so greedily fixated that it took her a moment to look back up at me. And when our gazes met, she didn’t even flush. ‘You have gorgeous shoes,’ she told me, holding my stare, ‘and beautiful legs. Did you know that?’
Oh, that gaze of hers was bold as brass. Inside my knickers, I burned. And as I mumbled a thank-you and turned away, I suddenly wondered if she’d stolen the shoes I was wearing and licked them while I wasn’t around. Well, why wouldn’t she? She’s done it before. And the image of her staring at me with her tongue sliding over my heels made my pussy ache so much that I rushed to the bedroom and, with my back against the door, slipped my fingers into my knickers and rubbed myself hard. Just thinking of the burn in her stare made me come in moments. And just like every climax I have when I think about Janey, it was so hot and deep and hard that I cried out loud.
See, Kitten? I’m like the Story of O. (But without the whipping, obviously.) This girl is young enough to be my own daughter. Is this my future sex life? Me getting older, while my tastes get younger?
Anyway, I have to dress up now. I’m meeting Gladys for drinks this evening. She’s been dating a swish American man called Guy, so there’s bound to be gossip. I’ll spill the beans when I get back.
10.50 p.m.
Oh, Kitten, what a night! I don’t know whether to be excited or embarrassed! See, the ‘thing’ Gladys said she wanted to show me turned out to be – but wait. Let me start from the beginning.
I arrive at the Queen’s Head expecting a girls’ night out, but, when I spy Gladys over in the corner, she’s sitting next to a man in a swanky suit. Oh, God, I think to myself. She’s brought the guy she’s been dating.