Chapter 5: An Evening with Fiona
"Good evening, Mister Parker. My name is Liz. I'm a friend of Fiona's. Is she in?"
A man - Fiona's uncle, I assumed - had answered the door. He didn't seem very pleased about my unexpected arrival.
"Fiona! There's somebody here to see you." He called into the house. I could hear Fiona shout, "Just a moment. I'll be down in a second," from somewhere inside.
"Just a moment. She'll be down in a second," Mister Parker echoed.
As he stood there, without having anything else to say, but reluctant to let me into the house before Fiona had arrived, I had a look at the man about whom Fiona had said that he made her quiver with desire.
I remembered one of the few concrete facts Fiona had told me about her uncle. He was teaching maths at a Public School. Standing in the doorframe in his shirtsleeves, his glasses pushed up to his forehead, he perfectly matched my image of a teacher of such a brainy subject.
He was handsome, yes, but not outrageously so. I didn't notice anything spectacular about him which would have made him stand out in a crowd. But I agreed that his energetic chin and his firm, steady look could easily make a woman tremble in her bones - particularly if she knew that she was about to receive a spanking from him.
"Hi Liz, come on up," Fiona said as she took my hand and pulled me behind her.
"You won't forget that we have an appointment at seven?" her uncle reminded her.
"Of course not, Dad. We'll be down at seven on the dot," Fiona assured him with a smile that would be appropriate between lovers but not between daughter and father.
"Your uncle doesn't seem to be very happy about my being here," I whispered to Fiona as she led me up the stairs to her room.
"He doesn't know that you're here to watch my punishment. He probably thinks I've invited you to get out of it," Fiona commented without lowering her voice.
When we got into Fiona's room I couldn't help thinking, 'God, what a mess!' There were clothes, particularly items of underwear, scattered on top of her bed and on the floor. I couldn't resist to ask, "Didn't you say getting spanked has made you a more orderly person?"
"I am an orderly person. I hate disorder. I just do this once a week to give my dad a reason to punish me. In the morning, before I leave I open a few drawers at random and scatter their content all over my room. When I get home in the evening I put everything back in its proper place. Today, Deeply Trouble kept me later than usual. I got here just before you arrived and haven't had any time yet to put my room in order."
Fiona continued her explanation as she picked up item for item and put everything neatly into her wardrobe drawers. I couldn't help noticing that she did have some very sexy underwear.
"You wouldn't believe the kind of things I do just to come up with a reasonable list of misdemeanours every week. Of course, I don't do anything that would really upset my dad or that would interfere with my education. It isn't easy to find things that break a rule and result in punishment, but don't really matter.
"Once, I even went to the movies with Simon, the nerd of nerds ..."
"Is that a punishable offence?" I interrupted her, jokingly.
"No," she answered, "that's a severe punishment in itself. Anyway, I wanted to come home late. Disobey the curfew, you know? So I asked Simon to explain the plot to me. I had chosen the film, a science-fiction story involving lots of robots and androids, to give him something to talk about.
"Well, he didn't think there was a good shred in the whole picture. Everything was either logically impossible or based on superseded theories. I didn't understand much of what he said, but I kept him talking. Finally, at about two in the morning, I left his flat ..."
"You were in his flat? Until two in the morning? And nothing happened?" I couldn't believe that any male - not even Simon - was capable of spending an evening alone with Fiona without trying to get closer.
Fiona looked at me with an expression of mock seriousness. "Dear Liz, you must think I'm a pervert! How can you imagine that anything could happen between Simon and me?"
I had accommodated myself on the chair next to Fiona's desk while she went around the room picking up things and stowing them away. At one point, my attention was drawn to the wall behind her desk which was covered with photographs.
Particularly one, the largest of the lot, almost poster-size, caught my eye. It showed the back of a naked young woman. Her bottom showed clear signs of a recent spanking. Although the picture didn't show the woman's face, I had a pretty good idea who this young woman was.
I was dumbstruck. Wasn't it enough that he spanked her? Did he have to take pictures as well and hang them on her wall?
"This is you, isn't it?" I asked Fiona who had noticed my interest in the photograph.
Fiona smiled. "Do you like it? Don't you think it looks very sexy?"
I had to admit that the picture gave off some strange sensuality. I could see the story behind it. A young woman had her bottom thrashed and then, to rub it in, the castigator took a picture of her punished backside.
"It's kind of a family tradition," Fiona explained. "Every year, on my birthday, when I have to take off my clothes, Aunt Vera tapes my punishment and takes pictures of the result. I have photographs going back to my sixth birthday, but my video collection only starts at the age of twelve. This picture was taken on my birthday before last. On my last birthday, Aunt Vera wasn't around. So there'll be a gap in my records."
Oh yes! There was her Aunt Vera. I hadn't seen any sign of her.
"By the way, where is your aunt. I haven't seen her around," I asked.
"She isn't here. We don't see much of her these days. She's in Cornwall, looking after her mother."
"What's wrong with her mother?"
"Parkinson's. She needs permanent care. There are four daughters. In the beginning they had agreed to take turns looking after their mother. But then the others gradually pulled out. Professional commitments, family, all kinds of reasons. Nowadays, Aunt Vera spends most of her time with her mother. That's also the reason why she wasn't here on my last birthday."
Fiona paused for a moment, obviously thinking about something.
"Hang on a minute! I've just had a brilliant idea. Do you know how to operate a camcorder?"
"More or less. I've done it a few times," I answered, puzzled about where this question might lead.
"Stay here. Don't go away. I just want to ask my dad a question."
Fiona left the room in a hurry. I could hear her rush down the stairs. There was a short conversation which I didn't understand, then Fiona returned, beaming.
"Excellent," Fiona said. "You can make yourself useful. Earn your admission fee, so to speak. We're going to commemorate my birthday with two months delay and you're going to film it."
I was stunned. "But I only came to watch!"
"You can watch through the viewfinder. And if that's not enough to satisfy your curiosity, I'll give you a copy of the tape."
That closed the subject as far as Fiona was concerned. She started to get undressed.
"I'm going to have a quick shower. I feel much more comfortable when I'm freshly scrubbed," Fiona said as she unhooked and removed her bra and then stepped out of her knickers.
'What a body!' I thought. Fiona wouldn't look out of place on the cover of Playboy or any of the other magazines showing sexy women without clothes on. I noticed that there weren't any white patches on her bottom and around her pussy. Obviously, Fiona had been sunbathing in the nude. And her skin looked so silky-smooth, it just asked to be touched. There was a tiny triangle of pubic hair just above her pussy. Everything else was bare.
Fiona didn't make any attempt to cover herself as she walked around the room, gathering a few things for her shower.
I just had to ask. "What's your secret? How do you manage to have a body like this?"
"My secret? I guess my secret is that I get a good walloping once a week."
"No, I didn't mean that secret. I was asking how you keep your body in such an excellent shape."
"That's exactly what I'm talking about. It does wonders for the blood circulation. At least that's my theory."
Fiona left me on my own as she disappeared into the bathroom next door to have a shower.
That couldn't be right, could it? If there were a grain of truth in her theory, then women's magazines would be full of articles about this new form of suffering for beauty. There would be reports with titles like "How I got into shape by being spanked" with 'before' and 'after' pictures. There would be ads by 'beauty spankers' offering their services and by people offering courses in before spanking yoga. The cosmetics shops would offer specially formulated soothing lotions for afterwards. I had never heard anything of the kind.
Whatever the reason for Fiona's beauty was, I couldn't help wondering about all the men who had gone out with her and never made it to a second date. Wasn't she the kind of woman men dreamt of? Weren't those men willing to make an effort to conquer her? Or had Fiona's fixation for her dad made her unconquerable? I was sure that Roger wouldn't have any problem to make her dance to his whistle.
The thought of Roger reminded me that I was supposed to tell him everything that happened. How much of this could I really tell him? The thought left me uptight. I tried to occupy my mind with something else.
My attention turned once more to the photographs above Fiona's desk. Some of them were already showing signs of aging. The pictures weren't in any particular order, but it was easy to see how the little girl on the older photographs changed into a teenager and then into a fully developed woman. In the earlier pictures Fiona was draped over her uncle's knee; the more recent ones showed her bent over a massive desk.
All the pictures showed Fiona's naked behind, just after it had been spanked. None of them, except for one, showed her or anybody else's face. The one exception really looked like a traditional family shot except for the fact that little Fiona was naked, draped over her uncle's lap, right in the centre of the picture.
"That's the first one. It was taken on my sixth birthday," Fiona said. She had returned from her shower, still not wearing any clothes, and seen my interest in that particular photograph.
"I keep this picture wall to remind me of what happens if I misbehave. So that I don't forget to commit a few sins every week," she added with a smile.
Fiona took a video camera from one of the desk drawers and sat down on her bed.
"Come here, so I can show you how this thing works. Just in case you don't remember."
As I sat next to Fiona, our bodies almost touched. After a brief explanation, Fiona got up again and took a piece of paper from her desk.
"This is my confession. I have to memorize it and list all my sins without referring to any notes," she explained.
Looking at her watch, she said, "Time to go down."
As I watched her put on her 'punishment shirt', a flimsy baby doll nighty, I wondered why she bothered.
'This thing doesn't cover anything!' I thought. The material was much too thin to hide the shape of her tantalizing breasts. The dark circles of her areolas and her nipples were clearly visible. On top of that the 'shirt' was so short, it barely covered her sex. If her uncle was watching her as she came down the stairs he would have a clear view of her pussy. I wondered whether exposing herself like this to the eyes of her uncle was one of the sins she was going to confess.
I also started wondering about the reason behind my outrage. Was I in danger of turning into a moralistic bore? My upbringing could not be the reason for my condemnation of Fiona's behaviour. My father's attitude had always been to accept other people's choices, no matter what they were. Was this my way of suppressing a desire I didn't want to admit to? I told myself to be less judgemental of other people as I followed Fiona down the stairs.
The punishment would take place in the drawing room which also served as Mr. Parker's study. One wall of the large rectangular room was entirely covered with bookshelves. Near the other end of the room was a massive oak desk. It had already been cleared of all papers and any other objects which might get in the way. One half of the desk was covered with a plastic sheet.
The dark furniture gave the room a sombre mood, in spite of the additional lights which Fiona's uncle had arranged around the desk. Fiona told me to check that the lighting was bright enough to get a good image of the desk and the person bending over it.
After I confirmed that everything was okay, Fiona told me to start filming. She pulled her nighty over her head and stood there, stark naked, right in front of her uncle. There was enough erotic charge in this room to supply an entire village with electricity.
I wasn't sure how I was supposed to record this delayed birthday celebration. Fiona hadn't told me how the other tapes had been shot. I decided to let the camera act as the eye of a voyeur. As Fiona was standing with her back towards me, I started by panning down her back, lingering longer than necessary on her perfectly rounded bottom. Then I moved around to her front where I let the camera pan slowly upward, but not high enough to capture Fiona's face. As my eyes wandered over this magnificent body, I could feel my own excitement mount. I suddenly remembered that I wasn't wearing any knickers.
"Remind me why we are here," her uncle started the proceedings.
"We are here, because it's seven o'clock on Thursday, the time of my weekly punishment."
"Did you do anything you need to be punished for?"
"Yes, Dad," Fiona answered, looking straight at her uncle. "Many things."
"What are they?"
As Fiona stood there, her hands folded behind her back, reciting a long list of misdemeanours, I got some excellent shots of her beautiful breasts, including a few close-ups of her nipples which betrayed her state of excitement.
I was amazed how meticulously she described each act of disobedience. Most of the sins she listed were the usual things most parents complain about: coming home later than permitted, occupying the phone for hours and running up a huge bill in the process, staying too long in the bathroom, not putting her room in order - offences which I might also be guilty of if my father had established any rules.
There were also some unusual items on her list. One of them struck me particularly: Fiona's confession that she had used her uncle's razor to shave her pussy. I could understand that a man wouldn't be very pleased about such behaviour, but I also wondered what made her do it. I suspected it wasn't only because of her desire to give her uncle one more reason to punish her, it was also intended to raise the level of latent sexual energy even higher than it already was.
As she confessed this particular offence, Fiona pointed at the scene of the crime, and I could see her uncle's eyes follow her pointing finger. I couldn't help it. I had to zoom in on her near-bare pussy to confirm that the shaving had indeed taken place. There was a moment of complete silence when only the purring of the video camera could be heard.
When Fiona had finished her confession, her uncle gave her a sermon about why her behaviour was unacceptable and needed to improve. Fiona promised that she would try to behave better in future.
"Do you agree that you deserve to be punished?" Fiona's uncle finally asked.
"Yes, Dad. Please punish me."
Fiona didn't need any further instructions. She turned around to face the side of the desk which had been covered with the plastic sheet and bent over the top of the desk. As she did so, she stuck her bottom out and spread her legs just enough to let anybody who cared to look have a good view of her pussy - a view bound to drive any man wild with desire.
Before starting with the punishment, Mister Parker took off his shirt and applied some oil to his right hand. As I looked at his upper body, just covered by a thin T-shirt, I started to understand Fiona's infatuation for her uncle. The loose shirt had disguised his impressive torso. Now, the tight T-shirt gave a good idea of his muscular chest and biceps. This was a man who demanded respect. I could imagine that many women longed to be held in these strong arms.
Until this moment, everything I had witnessed had looked like some strange ritual, something these two people went through every week. They had behaved like two actors in a rehearsal. They had learned their lines, but delivered them without much conviction. Mister Parker's admonitions and his demand that Fiona change her behaviour didn't sound like he really expected any change to happen. And Fiona's promise to improve didn't give the impression that she had any intention of changing her conduct.
But when I saw Fiona's uncle's hand come down on her bare bottom, I knew that this wasn't playacting. He was spanking her for real. The sound his hand produced when it collided with Fiona's cheeks left no doubt that this hurt quite a lot. And Fiona's gasp at the first impact confirmed my impression.
I kept the camera fixed on Fiona's bottom as I watched the colour of her tanned skin change into a brownish pink and listened to her stifled cries of pain. But there wasn't only pain in Fiona's voice. There was something in her gasps which made me move my focus down from her bottom cheeks to the spot between her legs which was producing an impressive amount of moisture.
I couldn't believe my eyes. She was extremely aroused in spite - or maybe because - of the severe treatment her behind was subjected to. This was very similar to my reaction when Roger told me what to expect in the evening. But in my case, my excitement was in anticipation of things to come, and it wasn't associated with any physical pain. In Fiona's case, the leakage seemed to be the reaction to the harsh treatment of her backside. Was she really getting off on having her bottom thrashed?
The scene in front of my eyes, the highly charged atmosphere and my brief thoughts of Roger were not without effect on me. I could feel my own juices flow. And, as I wasn't wearing my knickers, I was sure that soon my legs would be shining with moisture.
Fiona's punishment took a lot longer than I had expected. Her uncle didn't give the impression that he was going to stop spanking her anytime soon. I couldn't stay there, focussing on her bottom and the wetness between her legs forever. I had to get a different angle. I moved away from my position. Mister Parker's legs came into view. I moved up and almost dropped the camera in shock.
Fiona's uncle was sporting one of the most impressive erections I had ever seen. Sure, his penis was covered by his trousers, but the bulge it made left no doubt about how aroused this man was. Fiona had told me that she could see what effect she had on her uncle, but I had never taken her comment literally.
To be honest, I couldn't blame him. I couldn't imagine any man who wouldn't get a raging hard-on looking at Fiona's naked body, draped so willingly over this desk and watching her accept her punishment so obediently. From what I knew about Fiona, she probably wouldn't have any objections if her uncle were to drop his trousers and ram his cock into her soaking wet pussy. To my horror I realized that I myself wouldn't have protested very loudly if he had turned towards me to get relief for his excitement.
I tried to free my mind from these lewd thoughts. After all, he was Fiona's uncle, maybe even her father. Sex between those two would be highly immoral, even illegal. And I already had a man who looked after my sexual needs.
I moved around, filming Fiona's body as it lay slumped on the desk, until I had a good view of her face. I could see tears run down her cheeks. So, it did hurt! But when Fiona saw that the camera was on her, she smiled and winked at me. She even managed to mimic a kiss into the camera as the blows rained down on her backside.
When Mister Parker stopped spanking Fiona's bottom, I could see that he was breathing heavily from the exertion. Fiona remained slumped on the desktop for a minute or two. Then she got up and hugged her uncle.
"Thank you, Daddy, for punishing me so harshly," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
This was unbelievable! She kissed him straight on the mouth as she pressed her naked body against his. Was this my imagination, or did she actually give his erection a quick squeeze with one hand?
There was so much intimacy in this hug. I found it difficult to believe that two people who didn't have an affair would embrace like this. Fiona had told me how desperate she was to seduce her uncle, and how futile her efforts had been until now. Why would she talk about her frustration if she had already succeeded in her scandalous desire? I was sure that she wouldn't have to wait much longer. Her uncle's resistance seemed quite weak. He just needed one final push, as far as I could tell.
The embrace seemed to last an awfully long time. Eventually, Fiona said, "See you later, Dad," as she peeled herself off her uncle. She picked up her nighty without putting it on and walked towards the stairs. I switched off the camera, made my excuses to Mister Parker, and followed Fiona.
As I walked up the stairs behind Fiona, I had a good view of her punished backside. 'So that's what my bottom will look like if I let someone spank me,' I thought. But it occurred to me that Fiona's overall suntan probably camouflaged the effect of her father's hand. My own bottom would probably turn screaming red after this kind of treatment. And Fiona was already used to it. My first-time punishment would probably hurt a lot more.
I came to the conclusion that it wasn't a good idea to press ahead with this crazy idea of having someone spank me. If Fiona wanted to play this game, if she enjoyed to suffer at the hands of her uncle, that was her problem. I could think of many ways of enjoying myself, but this wasn't one of them. This wasn't my idea of fun. The only sensible thing to do was to put an end to this mad desire, to get it out of my mind.
'Oh really?' an inner voice came back. 'Then why did you get all wet between your legs?'
I looked down my legs without saying anything. 'And this is only from watching!' the voice insisted. 'Just imagine what it must feel like to be the one who gets spanked, to be on the receiving end of such firm hands?'
I was as confused and uncertain as ever.
When we got to her room, Fiona dropped onto her bed and just lay there, belly down, without moving. Either she was suffering from the effects of her spanking, or she was savouring the afterglow.
I deposited the camera on Fiona's desk and accommodated myself on her chair. Some strange urge got hold of me. I couldn't resist. I lifted my skirt, spread my legs and started to rub my pussy. I didn't even remember that this was what Roger had instructed me to do. It seemed the natural thing to do under the circumstances, and I didn't give a damn about the world around me.
"Liz, would you be a darling and put some moisturiser on my bottom?" Fiona requested without moving her head. "It's burning like hell and it's a bit awkward to reach."
When I didn't react immediately, Fiona turned around and saw what I was doing.
"Naughty, naughty, Liz! Going out without knickers!" she said with a broad grin. "Can't you wait until I'm ready to join you, you selfish girl? First I need your hands on my bottom. Then you can move on to my front, and I'll take care of your pussy."
My mind was numb. I couldn't possibly refuse. I was so embarrassed about having been caught with my hand in the cookie tin that I was willing to do whatever Fiona wanted, just to avoid her teasing me.
As I applied liberal amounts of lotion to Fiona's punished backside, I could feel the heat the spanking had produced. I tried to be as gentle as possible. I didn't want to add to her discomfort.
Fiona moaned. "That's wonderful, Liz. You've got such a gentle touch. Now move a little further down, between my legs. Yes. A little further. See how wet I get? Now rub me there. Yes. A little harder. Don't be shy. If you do this for me I'll do the same for you."
Fiona's hands were on my skirt, opening the button on the side, then the zipper, pulling down my skirt, letting it drop to the floor, touching my moist sex.
"Gee Liz, you're just as wet as I am. And you've only been watching!"
What could I say? How could I explain that this was only my curiosity, that I wasn't really aroused? How could I tell her that I had never touched another woman or been touched by one? That I was strictly hetero? The touch of her hand on my sex felt so good. And seeing how she reacted to my touch was such a thrill. I let go. I abandoned myself to my lust.
Fiona helped me to shed the rest of my clothes. Soon we were both naked, lying side by side on her bed, fingering each other's pussy. We were both so excited that it didn't take us very long to reach our climax. It felt so wonderful, I didn't feel like stopping - ever.
A general feeling of well-being, a sensation of happiness took hold of me as we lay there, caressing each other's sex. It felt almost as good as being with Roger. But this was more dream-like, gentler, almost like sisterly love.
"Let me give you a special treat," Fiona said with a seductive smile.
I saw her slide down the bed, her head moving close to my sex. She wouldn't do this, would she? Roger had done it many times to me, but that was kind of natural between a man and a woman. But Fiona and I were both women, and we weren't even close friends!
As I felt Fiona's lips on my sex, as her tongue invaded my pussy, all doubts whether I should allow this to happen vanished. It felt so good, so good! How could I possibly resist? I spread my legs, inviting her to continue her wicked assault.
Once more my thoughts turned to Roger. When he licked me, I felt just as excited as I did now. But with Roger I knew that it was just the build-up to the main event. With Fiona, this was the main event - and she treated it exactly like that. Her tongue found my clit and ran little circles around it. Her lips squeezed it, sucked on my hardening knob. I moaned as another orgasm pulsed through my body.
I had never thought that sex between two women could be this good. Different from sex with a man, but just as satisfying. What a fool I had been to deny myself this pleasure for such a long time!
Fiona's lips and tongue, supported by her nimble fingers, made me come twice more before she decided that enough was enough. I knew instinctively that she expected me to return the favour, and I was so grateful for what she had done to me that I was willing to forget my taboos.
I had never done this kind of thing, but I had clear memories of how Roger used to drive me wild as he caressed me with his tongue and lips. I decided to pull out all the stops, to give Fiona a demonstration of my gratitude.
But Roger usually started with long, deep kisses. His tongue invaded my mouth before it would invade my pussy. I couldn't do that, could I? I decided that kissing another woman on the mouth was out of the question. That was far too immoral, much too kinky.
But I couldn't possibly ignore Fiona's magnificent breasts. Her dark nipples had hardened a long time ago and were sticking out invitingly on those wonderfully firm mounds of flesh. I detected the salty taste of Fiona's perspiration as I closed my lips around one of her nipples. Her reaction was immediate. She moaned and encouraged me to continue. Her entire body convulsed as I flicked one nipple with my tongue while my fingers squeezed the other one.
It was clear that Fiona's appetite for sex was far from sated after the orgasms she had experienced from my hand on her pussy. She wanted more and she wanted it now. I let my mouth wander slowly down her writhing body. I felt like I was on a treasure hunt, except that I knew exactly where the treasure was hidden.
The first touch of my lips on her pussy resulted in another orgasmic scream. Fiona's hips bucked to bring her sex closer to my mouth. I trailed my tongue along her slit, forcing her lips slightly apart. Fiona moaned her approval. Every move I made was rewarded by longing gasps and requests for more.
I tried to remember all the things Roger did to me and let Fiona experience my version of those thrills. Her enjoyment of my efforts and her appetite for more didn't seem to know any limit, but my stamina did. Eventually I collapsed on the bed, exhausted, lying next to Fiona.
"That was fantastic, Liz," Fiona exclaimed as she hugged me. "Absolutely wonderful. The best ever. I didn't know you had so much experience. How did you learn such superb skills?"
"You're getting a wrong impression, Fiona. I don't have any experience. Everything I did I learned from Roger."
Fiona misunderstood my comment. "Ah, Roger again! Does he make you lick his other women before he fucks you?"
I was outraged by such a suggestion. "Roger doesn't have any other women - at least not as far as I know. And I have never had sex with another woman until today. You've got me wrong. What I wanted to say was that I know everything I did to you only because Roger has done it to me."
The firm tone of my voice didn't perturb Fiona's playful mood. "Is he that good? You've got to introduce me to him. No more excuses."
I got ready to tell her that Roger was up in Scotland, that I couldn't introduce her to him, even if I wanted to. But Fiona wasn't waiting for a response.
"I've got the feeling that you're hiding your boyfriend from me. You want to keep him all to yourself, you egoist. You wouldn't even share him with your best friend."
'Share him? Best friend?' Fiona's words echoed through my mind. After what we had just done, our relationship had to be classified as intimate. We probably had become close friends. But what did she mean by 'sharing him'?
"I don't want to take him away from you, just borrow him for one night. You don't even need to leave us on our own. You can watch - or join in the fun."
I was dumbstruck. Was Fiona just sex-mad or had she gone mad, plainly and simply? How could she even think of having sex with a man she had never met? Her best friend's man? And how could she suggest that I join in? There had to be something seriously wrong with Fiona's concept of moral values.
But I had promised myself that I wouldn't act the moralist. That I wouldn't assume the moral higher ground. I tried to dissuade her on a pragmatic level.
"But he's a complete stranger to you. You've never set eyes on him!" I burst out. My voice probably betrayed how much I disapproved of her proposal.
"That's right," Fiona answered without flinching. "You've never even shown me his photograph. I'm sure you carry his picture with you wherever you go."
Fiona got up from the bed. Before I could do anything to interfere she got hold of my bag and started rummaging though its content.
"No, Fiona! Please don't!" I shouted.
But it was too late. She had already found the photograph.
"Now, how about that?" Fiona beamed triumphantly, looking at the picture in her hand. "You're full of surprises, Liz. I think I'm going to call you 'lusty Liz' from now on."
I was annoyed about Fiona's behaviour. The fact that we had just had sex together didn't give her the right to inspect the contents of my handbag. But I was also cross with myself. Why had I decided to carry this photograph with me? It wasn't meant to be shown to anybody. Why hadn't I hidden it in one of the drawers in my wardrobe and selected another, less incriminating picture to carry around with me? Now, that Fiona had seen the snap, I wasn't really in a position to reprimand her for being so nosey.
"Well, he really does have an impressive ..." Fiona paused and then decided to change direction. "... backyard," she completed her sentence. "Was this taken in his garden?"
"No," I answered, feeling deeply embarrassed. "It was taken in a sheltered part of Chiswick Park."
"Chiswick Park, eh? Right under the nose of the general public. And who took it?" Fiona asked, still looking intently at the photograph.
"Nobody did. It was taken with the delayed-action shutter release on Roger's camera. We put the camera on a parapet and then posed for the picture."
"Are you sure you were only posing? This looks like you were caught in the act."
Fiona's reaction was understandable. The photograph she held in her hand showed Roger and me, both naked. Roger was standing with his back to a row of trees and bushes, his cock at full mast, facing the camera. I was kneeling at his side, planting a kiss on his cock head.
The picture, like most of our adventures, had been Roger's idea. He knows quite a few isolated spots in public parks, places where hardly anybody goes. He would take me there on warm, sunny days, we would take off our clothes and make love. The risk that we might be discovered always added to the thrill of letting Roger do with me what he wanted. But on this particular day we had refrained from making love. At least as long as we were in the park.
The thought of what had happened later that day put me in a conciliatory mood. I took the photograph out of Fiona's hands and put it back into my handbag. "You've looked at it long enough," I said. "We don't want you to get excited again, do we?"
But I couldn't escape Fiona's demands to meet Roger as soon as possible. She almost acted as if she had a right to this, "now that she knew him so intimately."
"I'll mention you next time I talk to him. And if he's interested, we'll arrange a get-together," I promised.
I realized that I wasn't just going to mention Fiona in passing. She would be the protagonist in my report about what had happened that evening.