Danielle Engle - Lavender Excursions

Drawing back to her full height, Camarin focused all her energy on the first blow. The strap came down sixteen inches, then fourteen inches, then eight inches, and then four inches. Finally, she heard the rendering slap of wet leather against bare flesh. "Exquisite," Camarin murmured. Taking only a moment to savor that first utterance, she unleashed a volley of blows. Kimberly's ass was soon covered with red welts. It was a lovely sight, her first mark on this lesbian virgin.

Camarin was purring with pleasure when she finally laid the strap aside and turned Kimberly to face her.

"My lovely little queer. To think I've outed you all by myself!

Now come," she whispered, guiding Kimberly gently to the dining room that adjoined the kitchen. She pulled a softly padded chair out for her.

Kimberly winced in pain as her bare ass made contact with the padded surface. Too dazed to think and too crazed to understand, she knew only one thing for certain. This woman had rendered her helpless. In that tiny fragment of time, Kimberly had experienced more pleasure than in all her lovemaking with Mark. Her head leaning back against the wall, she drifted in and out of sleep. She would awaken, see Camarin somewhere nearby, and then sleep once more. The last thing she remembered was Camarin bending over her and kissing her on the forehead. She was lying down somewhere, her body sinking into the soft warmth beneath her. She slept soundly the rest of the night.

When her alarm sounded at five-thirty, Kimberly fumbled with the dials and buttons she could not see. Silence at last, she opened her eyes and surveyed the room. Relieved once more by the familiar surroundings, she wondered at the strange dreams she'd been having.

Of all things, she couldn't imagine why she'd had such an erotic dream about the woman who'd just interviewed her for a magazine article.

They did have dinner together last night. But other than a little innocent flirtation on Camarin's part, Kimberly could think of no reason why she would have such a dream. What surprised her even more was the sadomasochism that was threaded throughout the dream.

The edges of reality were becoming very gray and blurred. She stood and reached for her robe.

"Ouch," she groaned when she sat up in bed. She was sore and aching, as if her body had imagined the dream so vividly that she felt the imagined wounds as sorely as if they were real. Gently, she eased off the bed, walked into the dressing room and peered at her back in the mirror. It looked perfectly normally. Oh, my God , she thought.

What is happening to me ? She shouldn't need to check the mirror to help her differentiate fantasy from reality.

She ventured into the bathroom, turned on the hot water, waited for steam to fill the room, and adjusted the temperature to a tolerable level. When she started to open the cabinet and get a towel, she saw a piece of paper taped to the sliding door. It was a note from Mark.

Kimberly, I took the liberty of letting myself in last night. Please forgive the intrusion, sweetheart, but you've been under so much pressure lately, I was worried about you.

Kimberly's arm fell to her side, her fingers releasing the scrap of paper. It fluttered to the floor. Her head dropped to her chest and she started sobbing. She took some deep breaths and dried her eyes. She needed someone to comfort her, to explain the terrible confusion she was feeling. Hands trembling, she turned off the water and went into the bedroom. She reached for the telephone and dialed Mark's number.

"Hi," said a sleepy voice.

"Mark," Kimberly began. Her voice shy and hesitant, she apologized for canceling their engagement the previous evening.

"Honey, I understand," Mark assured her. "This is your golden opportunity. I'd never begrudge you the time you need to spend on your work."

Her mind reeling with guilt, conflict and absolute confusion, Kimberly had difficulty suppressing the sobs that threatened to start once more. "Mark, you'll never know how much that means to me,"

she said. "Since I couldn't make it last night, I was wondering if we could get together for lunch today."

Mark grinned and sat up in bed. The mere sound of Kimberly's voice made him tremble with arousal. His voice husky with desire, he asked, "How about room service at the Day's Inn downtown? My treat."

Kimberly paced across the room, her fingers nervously twisting the phone cord. How could she explain the confusion she was feeling when she didn't understand it herself? "Oh, Mark, I can't!" she replied in her most plaintive voice. "I have a meeting this afternoon, so there's only an hour free in my schedule. Darling, how could I possibly explain myself if I walk into a meeting all flushed and excited by you?"

Mark was disappointed but it did not lessen his excitement. He threw back the sheet, exposing his aroused organ. "How about right now?" he whispered. "We can do it over the phone." Mark stroked his erection, his fingers closing gently around his penis. Up and down, up and down, he applied the slow steady pressure that would satisfy his need.

Mark's single-minded focus on sex was a keen reminder to Kimberly of how Mark viewed her. She felt tears sliding once more down her cheeks. She sat down at her desk. Her hand on the receiver, she took a deep breath and cleared her throat. Even though she resented it, she felt she owed it to him. After all, Mark was her lover.

"Oh, baby, make love to me," she whispered.

Mark groaned, the tip of his penis glistening with pre-orgasmic arousal. His mouth fell open and he closed his eyes. "Um, I'm removing your nightshirt," he told her. "I'm kissing your neck, beginning on the left side and moving over. You feel my tongue wet and hot against your skin." His hand moving more insistently now, Mark envisioned how Kimberly must look. "Take your nightshirt off, baby. Let me suck you."

Unlike Mark, Kimberly's hands were not moving. She focused her thoughts on bringing him to orgasm, her body not responding to his verbal lovemaking. "Oh, yes," she whispered. "Fuck me, Mark.

Please. Do it now!" she exclaimed. It took all her energy and concentration to go through the motions and play her role as Mark's lover.

Mark stood with his legs spread apart, one hand holding the receiver to his ear. His other hand gripped his penis as tight as he could bear. With Kimberly's voice guiding him through the motions, he stroked himself faster and faster. Eyes looking down lovingly, he swelled with pride.

His penis fully tumescent now, Mark admired how well endowed he was. "I'm fucking you, baby," he whispered huskily over the phone. "I'm inside of you. You're so wet and tight. Oh, yes," he groaned.

Kimberly listened to his heavy breathing, gauging how close he was to orgasm. He was almost finished and she was grateful.

Ashamed for feeling this way, but grateful nonetheless, she murmured, "Um, deeper, Mark. I want you to pump inside me as deep as you possibly can."

His hips thrusting forward as he strained against his tightly closed fist, Mark felt his legs begin to tremble. "Oh, baby, I'm coming," he gasped. His voice silenced by the audible moans and gasps of his orgasm, Mark watched his semen spurt across the room. Then, like a runner after the meet, he slowed his pace and slowly brought himself to a finale. "Oh, Kimberly, did you feel it?" he asked.

"Oh, oh, I … I'm coming, too," Kimberly moaned. She held her breath and made grunting noises, trying to mimic an actual orgasm.

Mark listened, his fingers still lovingly caressing his flaccid organ.

He smiled when he heard Kimberly's final gasp. "Was it good for you?" he asked in a very sincere voice.

"Oh, yes," Kimberly replied. Pretending to be breathless, she gave the response she always gave when Mark made love to her. "I love you, Mark," she whispered.