His Mistress’s Voice

Table of Contents

THE PASSIVE VOICE

  

This book is a work of fiction.

In real life, make sure you practise safe sex.

First published in 1994 by

Nexus

332 Ladbroke Grove

London W10 5AH

Copyright © G. C. Scott 1994

ISBN 0 352 32961 0

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Chapter One

Luckily, there are many sorts of virginity to lose, so one can enjoy the sense of loss more than once. On the Saturday when Tom saw Beth for the first time he didn’t know he was going to enjoy the loss once more. He thought he was only doing what he had done many times before. Nothing more to learn; nothing more to lose. It was a Saturday in September. Autumn had set in. The cool days were perceptibly shorter, the evenings drawing in. Tom saw the woman with the red hair before she saw him. Autumn was Tom’s favourite season. The clear crisp air and the high blue skies that seem to occur more often in that season (though that may be an illusion) made him feel as if he could accomplish seven impossible things before breakfast. So when he saw her he knew she was going to be his next lover.

She didn’t know that yet, of course. It was his task to let her know of their mutual good fortune. Not that he thought of himself as God’s gift. It was just that there seemed to be a certain inevitability in catching sight of her through the shifting crowds. They parted, and there she was, her red hair appearing to crown her with the clear fire of the day. He felt an inner lurch when he saw this glorious creature – or so he told her later. She joked that it was lust at first sight.

Beth (for that was her name, as he learned later) didn’t notice him staring at her. She was standing beside a stall that sold second-hand jewellery, waiting for the stall holder to finish with another customer and come to her. She held an enamelled butterfly, set with iridescent stones that caught fire in the sunlight. He thought the brooch a good choice, complementing her own vividness. He moved closer, wanting to speak but not knowing how to begin. One of the signs of our separateness is the inability to approach a stranger and open a conversation. ‘Do you come here often?’ was all he could think of. That was much too banal, inviting a monosyllabic reply and a quick escape.

The man behind the counter was almost finished with the other customer. Soon he would turn to serve her. On impulse Tom said softly, ‘I think it’s a lovely piece, but you shouldn’t pay the first price he asks. You’re supposed to bargain at markets like this.’

Not softly enough. The stall holder heard him and gave them both a malevolent glance. Tom welcomed the look. It made them conspirators against him. She looked at this stranger with a puzzled frown. ‘Bargain? But there’s already a price tag on it.’ Then she brightened. ‘Of course, darling. But you’re so much better at it. I remember how you got the man to sell us the leather handbag in Greece. But I feel so foolish when I do it. Could you . . .?’

Surprised by the success of the opening, Tom nevertheless recovered quickly. He took the pin from her and examined it more closely. The price tag said twelve pounds. He did a swift calculation and offered eight. The stall holder countered with ten, proving that he was open to haggling. They settled on nine. Tom handed the pin to her and, moving swiftly, paid the man. As they turned away she made a move to open her purse. Before she could get the money out to repay him he said, ‘Please don’t. Let it be a gift from a recent admirer. Besides, the pin is
you
.’ It was the best compliment he could come up with at short notice.

She reached a decision of her own. ‘All right, but only if you’ll let me buy lunch. Pick a place nearby and let it be my treat.’

This is turning out to be my lucky day, Tom thought as they set out in search of a watering hole. Over lunch they introduced themselves and exchanged brief biographies. Tom noticed that Beth didn’t waste time explaining that she didn’t make a habit of being picked up by strangers, as so many other women would have done. He liked her ready acceptance of the situation and her willingness to let things develop from there. They both laughed over the way they had fallen into their roles at the market. Sometime during the lunch they made the decision to adjourn to Beth’s place. There was no sense of forcing things on his part, nor of reluctance on hers. Their rapport made the next step seem inevitable.

They took the bus to Beth’s place, and the easy mood of fun stayed with them for the ride. She lived in a block of flats, but on the ground floor at the front of the building. She had a good view of the street and the flow of traffic and pedestrians. As the door closed behind them, before Tom even had a chance to look around and remark on the decoration, Beth turned up her lips to be kissed. They reached the bedroom by something akin to teleportation. He couldn’t remember walking there. One moment they were in the front hall; the next they were in her bedroom and she was adjusting the blinds to darken the room.

‘Take off your clothes and lie down on the bed,’ she told him.

Tom kicked off his shoes and got out of his jeans and shirt. As he stood in his underpants to hang his clothes over a chair, he noticed that she was still fully dressed. She gestured once again for him to lie down. When he did, she sang ‘Let Me Entertain You’ in a mocking tone. Her voice was untrained but quite good. She smiled when she saw that his cock was standing up to attention.

Beth began to undulate slowly to the rhythm of her song, smiling into his eyes as she slipped out of her dress. She let it trail from one hand as she did a slow pirouette for his benefit. Like many men, Tom fantasised about women in red or black lace underwear. Beth’s was dark blue: a lacy push-up bra that presented her full breasts to the world and let him see her nipples through the sheer fabric; matching half-slip and pants; stockings and suspenders. He saw all this as she did a slow striptease, moving from shadow into the bars of light that came through the blinds. She seemed to leap out of the gloom with a fiery suddenness before disappearing again into the darkness. The play of light and shade on her body made her more mysterious and elusive. He could smell her fragrance whenever she came close to the bed.

She twisted her arms behind her in that way men have never learned, and unsnapped her bra. As it fell to the floor she cupped her breasts, holding them up for him to see. She stroked and pinched the nipples until they stood out stiffly. Tom’s excitement grew as the dance went on. His cock felt big enough to burst. Beth came closer and dangled her breasts near his mouth. Tom reached up to pull her down alongside him, but she eluded him and stepped back.

‘There’s no hurry,’ she admonished him. ‘Relax and enjoy the show.’ Whenever she stirred, a waft of her perfume enveloped his head in a cloud of delicious scent. Tom’s senses swam dizzily. Beth knelt suddenly beside the bed and drew his face to her breasts, inviting him to lick and nuzzle them. No second invitation was needed, and she sighed with pleasure as his lips and tongue circled her nipples, his teeth nipping gently at the taut flesh. She swayed forward to offer herself to him. His hands rose to join his busy mouth. It seemed that Beth was about to lose control, but she drew back once more, pushing his hands away. She stood up and made a small
moue
of annoyance.

‘I told you there’s no hurry. Lie still.’ She moved to her jewellery box on the bureau and picked out a pair of handcuffs. She came back to the bed and told Tom, ‘Put your hands through the bars of the headboard above your head.’ She looked both stern and mocking at once. Although surprised, Tom did as she directed. Beth drew his hands together and locked the handcuffs onto his wrists.

‘We can get on with things now,’ she remarked as she stepped back to admire the effect and to be admired in her turn. ‘You may look as much as you like, but you can’t touch just yet.’ Once more that mocking tone.

Beth sat down on the bench before her vanity mirror. From where he lay Tom could see both a front and a rear view of this strange and disturbing woman he had picked up on impulse. He thought that maybe the pick-up had been the other way round. A new experience for him. Usually it was he who had to make the approach, and he found the role reversal strangely exciting.

Beth stretched like a cat, arching her back and lifting her breasts invitingly. Tom felt an accompanying rise in his cock as he looked at the woman who was just out of reach. Beth smiled when she saw his reaction, as if she enjoyed being responsible for his arousal. When she crossed her legs, Tom heard the sibilant whisper of nylon against nylon. Beth seemed to be settling herself comfortably, and Tom wondered how long he’d have to wait. Or if she intended to consummate the encounter at all. And when did she intend to let him go? He thought briefly of what he would do when she let him go if she had only teased him for hours. And the idea of hour-long teasing by this remarkable woman was exciting in itself.

Beth toyed with her nipples and he watched as she made them harden again. ‘Like what you see?’

‘Come here,’ he said.

She shook her head, no. ‘Watch and enjoy.’ Beth slipped her pants slowly down her legs and kicked them aside. She turned to face Tom on the bed and spread her legs for him to admire. Her pubic hair was a darker shade than he’d expected. It was thick and curly but didn’t conceal her labia, which showed as a slash of delicate pink between her thighs. She used her fingers to spread her lips and Tom caught a glimpse of the clitoris. He felt his cock harden again.

Beth noticed too. ‘I see I’ve got your attention,’ she remarked. She stood up and strode about the room, turning so that he could see her from all angles. At one point she turned her back to him and spread her legs. Then she bent over and grasped her ankles. Her long hair swept the floor and he could see a tiny twist of dark curly hair where her long legs divided. Her upside-down smile was wide. She seemed to be enjoying his reaction and his helplessness.

Beth straightened up and made a move to come over to the bed, but at that moment the telephone rang. She left the room to answer it, and Tom heard her speaking to someone about repairs to her car: ‘Today? You think you can begin today?’ There was a touch of annoyance in her voice when she said this. ‘But you told me you couldn’t possibly do the work until tomorrow.’ There was a pause, and she continued, ‘Well, I’ll have to get it down to you then. I can’t wait until next week.’ She put the phone down and came back into the bedroom. She bent over Tom and offered her breasts to him. He resumed work on them with his lips, tongue and teeth and was gratified to see her prompt response. The nipples grew taut and the areolae crinkled as he worked on them. Beth’s hands shook slightly in excitement as she cupped herself for him, and her breath grew shallow and rapid. She closed her eyes as he aroused her.