Eighty Days Yellow Page 20

  ‘Earth to Summer . . . Shall we warm up?’ Chris was shaking me by the shoulder.

  ‘Oh, sure,’ I replied, picking up my case and moving over to a space at the far end of the room, where he had laid his viola, and which I guessed would be our makeshift stage.

  Then Dominik called my name.

  ‘Summer, come here.’

  I set my case down next to Chris’s and walked over to Dominik.

  ‘You won’t be playing tonight. Not like that, at least.’

  He leaned down and kissed me full on the lips. I caught Charlotte’s gaze out of the corner of my eye, just as Dominik pulled away. She looked smug. Whatever argument they’d been having, she’d won. Dominik was hot, and flustered. I could feel the heat rising from his body. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see him fill the air with steam.

  Somewhere in the room, the snap of a cigarette lighter.

  I flinched.

  Charlotte had produced a bag with some sort of rope and various attachments inside. She’d told me that she’d been reading up about it, I recalled. I hoped she’d actually enrolled in some proper courses and wasn’t just stringing up anyone who would let her.

  She pushed the glass table over a foot or two and then climbed up on top of it, giving the entire room a vision of her long, tanned legs and arse, clad in a full-length white dress, which I realised was completely see-through in the light. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, but then again, neither was I, and I had to give it to Charlotte, she had great legs.

  Dominik squeezed my hand reassuringly. I was not reassured. Charlotte was down on the floor again, pushing the table out of the way. She had attached a long length of rope to a metal ring in the ceiling.

  ‘Will you do this for me?’ said Dominik.

  Well, I still didn’t know what he wanted me to do, but whatever it was, I would do it. I didn’t trust Charlotte when she was like this, but I trusted Dominik, even if he was acting weird.

  Charlotte took me by the shoulders and pulled me along until I was standing under the ropes.

  ‘Put your hands up, and don’t worry – you’re going to love it.’

  She was going to suspend me, I supposed.

  ‘Take her dress off first,’ called a voice, playfully, from one of the sofas.

  Charlotte complied, slipping off the thin shoulder straps and sliding down the zip at the back before I had the chance to put my arms into the air. It fell straight to the floor. I was naked for an audience again, though fairly well used to the feeling now.

  Chris was thankfully nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he’d got fed up of waiting or had been freaked out by the crowd, who were getting lustier by the minute, and left.

  I lifted up my arms and felt the rope brush across my wrists, wrapping both between and round them, creating an intricate pair of handcuffs. She slipped a finger between my wrist and the rope, checking the pressure wasn’t too great. Perhaps she had a heart after all.

  ‘That’s OK?’ she asked. ‘Not too tight?’

  ‘Feels fine,’ I replied. My feet were still firmly on the ground, and though I couldn’t wiggle free, she’d left my arms a little slack so the position shouldn’t get uncomfortable too quickly.

  ‘She’s all yours,’ Charlotte said to Dominik, conspiratorially.

  I heard water running in another room, then the sound of a door open and close.

  Chris.

  He’d just been in the bathroom.

  Fuck.

  ‘Hey,’ he said to Dominik, ‘what the fuck are you doing?’ His voice was filled with anger.

  He didn’t ask me what I was doing, just what Dominik was doing. Couldn’t he see that I wasn’t struggling, that I had made a choice to do this, that I was acting out of my own free will, not just according to the whim of whatever man I happened to be with?

  I was angry with him suddenly for not understanding me, for wanting me to fit in with his expectations.

  ‘Oh, just fuck off, would you, Chris! I’m fine! We’re all fine. You just don’t understand.’

  ‘Summer, would you look at yourself! You’ve turned into a fucking freak! You’re lucky I’m just going to let the lot of you get on with your sick little games and not call the police.’

  He picked up his viola and his jacket, and stormed out through the door, slamming it shut behind him.

  ‘Wow,’ said the voice from the sofa that had spoken earlier, ‘and that’s why you shouldn’t invite vanillas to perv parties.’

  A few people laughed, settling the tension.

  Fuck him. It was my body and I’d do whatever I damn well pleased with it, and that included whatever Dominik wanted to do with it.

  Dominik stroked my hair, kissed me again, softly, and fondled my breast.

  ‘You sure you’re OK?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, I’m good, better than OK.’

  I just wanted him to get on with it now, to fuck me and set me free, to stop my arms from aching and let me play my Bailly.

  Then Dominik produced a razor.

  10

  A Man and His Darkness

  The heat was rising.

  In the smoke-filled room. In their minds.

  Chris had departed, but his words still rang in Summer’s ears. Part of her felt the sting of his accusations, while another, more impish and irresponsible part of her was angry at him for having the cheek even to attempt to criticise her and believe he understood the contradictory nature of her impulses.

  Summer sighed, shifting her feet to redistribute her weight. She looked up and watched Dominik on the other side of the room as, standing in a corner in deep conversation with Charlotte, his hands wandered freely over her friend’s now mostly unclad body. Next to them was Jasper, fully nude and sporting a spectacular erection, lazily stroking himself with one hand while his other actively busied itself in the darkness of Charlotte’s crotch. The combined caresses of the two men she was almost sandwiched between did not appear to faze Charlotte and she appeared in full control of the bizarre situation. Dominik, still clothed from top to bottom in black, had shed his jacket, his sole concession to the situation, the smooth wool of his cashmere crew-neck top no doubt rubbing smoothly against Charlotte’s breasts as she squeezed against him.

  In the dim light Summer could see, and hear, the palette of other couples scattered across the floor, on the other angled sofa on the far side of the room and even on the large rectangular table, now cleared of food and glasses. They were involved in some form of sexual activity – moans, whispers, embraces. The fingers of someone tiptoeing past her brushed her hair, but she did not turn round, and whoever it might have been did not linger and moved on to another tangle of limbs. Her eyes were fixed on the trio made up of Dominik, Charlotte and Jasper. What could they be talking about? Her?

  Summer’s mind was racing.

  What had begun as yet another stage in the game she had willingly been playing with Dominik was now in freefall.

  At brief intervals, all three of the constituent members of the conspiratorial trip would turn and take a look at her, and it appeared to Summer they were laughing, as if she had now become the abandoned rear part of the pantomime horse.

  Recollections came flooding back: playing for Dominik alone on the bandstand on the heath, then naked with the blindfolded string quartet, then naked for him, solo, in the crypt, which had ended with them finally fucking, and the episode, still burning in her mind, when he had blindfolded her and she had performed for an unseen spectator (she now believed there had not been more than one other person present and her instinct told her it must have been a man) and was then summarily taken by Dominik in full view of the still unknown stranger. Which had led to tonight.

  What had she been hoping for, expecting? Some form of cruel progression in the ritual of their uncommon relationship? There was no doubt she had missed him while he was away at his Italian conference. His quiet assurance, his soft but peremptory orders. Her body had told her so, and she had compensated for it with her own adv
entures on the fetish scene.

  She had wanted tonight to be special, not just some new variation, some twisted theatrical event.

  Summer shivered, still feeling the earlier sharp path of the razor blade across her cunt, looked down and again saw the bare smoothness of her genitals. She shuddered; there was something so shocking about the sight of such extreme nudity. Would she ever get used to it, not be self-conscious about the fact that she had been shaved in front of others, unveiled in the most humiliating of ways? She had vaguely hoped that after being displayed in this way, Dominik would then free her hands and at least allow her to play her precious new Bailly for his invited audience, but somehow Charlotte had taken over the reins of the evening and Summer was left here, not quite hanging, but naked and useless, merely a spectator as the tides of lust she had involuntarily given birth to flowed effortlessly among the small crowd and desires were unleashed. Inside Summer’s head was a small voice screaming, ‘Dominik, fuck me, take me, in front of everyone, now, right now,’ but the words just couldn’t get past the ramparts of her closed, parched lips. Because, despite everything she’d done with him, she felt it would be to demeaning to say so. Deep within was a feeling that she must not be the one to ask, beg, that the command must come from Dominik. Not her.

  She saw Charlotte lower her head to Dominik’s lips and kiss him. Jasper crowded in closer, began nibbling on Charlotte’s ear lobe. The sound of an unseen couple making love on the carpet right behind her reverberated across the room.

  Alerted by the soft sounds, Dominik broke from Charlotte’s embrace and walked across to Summer and, without a word, untied her hands. She lowered her arms, grateful he had finally remembered her before cramp could set in. He kissed her forehead with all the delicacy in the world and then Charlotte was with them.

  ‘You were beautiful, my dear,’ her friend said, stroking her cheek. ‘Just wonderful.’

  Summer hoped Dominik would now devote himself to her, but Charlotte, trailed by the ever-erect Jasper in all his splendour, took Dominik by the hand as if to lead him away.

  Standing there naked, normal circulation returning to her arms, Summer felt a pang of jealousy at the way her friend wouldn’t let go of Dominik, wouldn’t leave him alone. Didn’t she know that in a curious way she couldn’t quite explain that Dominik was hers? Summer’s? Why couldn’t she leave them alone? It was none of Charlotte’s business after all.

  Finally, Dominik said, ‘I think I need another drink. Anyone else need a refill? Summer, some water maybe?’ Summer nodded and Dominik left them to make his way to the kitchen, stepping across bodies in motion, slaloming between the various carnal activities in process.

  As he disappeared, Charlotte whispered in Summer’s ears, ‘I do like your guy, sweet Summer. May I borrow him?’

  Shocked by the request, Summer fell silent, anger bubbling beneath the surface. Had the circumstances been different, in a bar, at a normal party, anything but in this room full of couples fucking and fondling and rutting wildly as a result of her enforced exhibition and ceremonial shaving, she would have objected loudly, but the twisted nature of this environment of excess somehow forbade it. The curious etiquette of orgies, perhaps?

  Inside, however, she was boiling. With anger. How could Charlotte? Wasn’t she supposed to be her friend?

  Summer was still seething when Dominik returned and gingerly made his way towards them holding a set of glasses.

  He handed Summer her water, which she gulped down, past her dry lips. Charlotte, still shadowed by Jasper, put her hands in a proprietorial fashion round Dominik’s waist.

  ‘Isn’t this fun, guys?’ Charlotte said.

  Which triggered Summer’s moment of madness.

  Or spite.

  Handing the empty glass to Dominik, she swivelled round to face Jasper and deliberately lowered her left hand and brazenly took hold of his cock.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ she said, ‘and all among friends, no?’

  ‘So cosy,’ Charlotte remarked, noting Summer’s gesture, an amused smile painted on her face. Somewhere in the room, someone came with a soft sigh of abandon.

  In Summer’s hand Jasper’s warm cock was incredibly hard. Firmer than any penis she’d ever had the opportunity to handle before, she thought. As she gripped it, she saw the shadow of a grin spread across his features and felt a rush of warmth and desire. Summer refused to look at Dominik to observe his reaction.

  She slipped down onto her knees, took Jasper’s long, thick and velvety cock into her mouth and felt its girth increase even further.

  ‘Go, girl,’ she heard Charlotte say, and felt Dominik’s eyes drilling into her from above.

  For a brief moment, Summer wondered how Dominik’s cock might taste. She had not gone down on him yet and wondered why this hadn’t come about. She focused her attentions back on the job at hand, her tongue and lips playing with the escort’s cock, sucking, licking, nibbling delicately, according the rhythm of her attentions to the remote pulse driving down from his heart to the very edge of his stem, like a muted drum in some exotic jungle. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Charlotte moving her hands to Dominik’s belt, no doubt with a view to emulate her.

  Summer felt a sharp pang of jealousy. She was determined to bring Jasper to climax. But the best of plans are so easily thwarted and just as Summer felt a faint tremor begin to course through Jasper’s athletic body in a journey that was likely to end inside her mouth, the escort gently detached himself from her, leaving her mouth open in an O of interrogation and disappointment, pulled her up by the hand and delicately set her down on the nearby now-abandoned sofa. Unlike Dominik and Charlotte, who stood nearby in a semi-state of disarray, she in her corset and stockings, he with his trousers down but his undershorts still on, both Jasper and Summer were naked, their bodies mirror images of desire and pallor. Summer kneeled down, displaying herself to everyone. Summer heard the sound of a wrapper rustling and being expertly peeled over Jasper’s jutting member, and then he spread her legs open and positioned himself behind her, his cock dancing teasingly at the gates of her barer-than-bare entrance.

  Summer took a deep breath, looked behind Jasper and saw the deep darkness of Dominik’s eyes as he stared at the spectacle she and Jasper were providing, and then felt Jasper’s thick cock breach her in a single forward thrust, stretching her unexpectedly wide and investing her with his manhood. Fuck, he was big. Summer exhaled, as if all the air had been forced out of her lungs by the sheer power and determination of Jasper’s initial push. As he began his movements in and out of her, Summer switched off, allowing her body to float again in a sea of nothingness, surrendering herself to the moment, shedding all shreds of defence, mindless, open to whatever might now happen, purposefully defenceless, a willing toy on the waves of desire unbound.

  She closed her eyes. Flesh as a super-conductor, thoughts like evanescent clouds, her grey cells relocating below for the duration, abdicating all willpower to the mighty fire of desire.

  In a hidden compartment of her mind (or was it her soul?) Summer imagined she was now in Dominik’s body, not to observe the way Charlotte was possibly giving him an expert blowjob but to witness how his eyes were hypnotically fixed on her being fucked by Jasper. Oh, how he must be watching as the escort’s cock plumbed her depths, splashed against her, causing sweat to rise to the surface above her lips and her breath to become halting. Watch, Dominik, watch – this is how another man fucks me, and fucks me well, and wouldn’t you want to be him, wouldn’t you? Oh, how hard he is. Oh, how he owns me. Oh, how he makes me tremble, shiver, shudder. Oh, how he fucks me hard. And harder. On and on. Never stopping. Like a machine. Like a warrior.

  She let out a hoarse cry of pleasure, and realised that it wasn’t just the rigorous clockwork movements of Jasper inside her that she found so arousing, but the knowledge that Dominik was watching.

  And then she came.

  Screamed.

  In a moment she finally felt Jasper come in turn, flooding h
er insides, the warmth of his hot seed inside the thin latex sheath he had slipped into, and a sudden mad thought tortured her mind, appearing out of nowhere – Am I mad? Am I sick? – as she wondered what Dominik’s come would taste of had she sucked him to completion, or whether she ever would. Absurd thoughts have a habit of peering over the horizon of one’s mind at the most inopportune moments, Summer realised.

  She breathed heavily as Jasper withdrew from her, rising above her, his penis now limp but still imposing in both girth and length. She closed her eyes, felt a wave of regret mingle with her pleasure. She no longer wanted to know or see what Dominik and Charlotte were up to.

  She was tired, very tired.

  She swivelled her spent body, dug her face into the odorous leather of the sofa and began sobbing quietly.

  In the room, all around her as Summer lay there as its centre of gravity, the orgy was coming to an end.

  ‘I’m disappointed,’ Dominik said.

  ‘Isn’t it what you wanted?’ Summer asked. It was the following day and they were sitting in the cafe where they had first met, in St Katharine Docks. It was evening and straggling commuters fought the rush hour and cars roared across the nearby bridge. ‘Didn’t you want to see me fucked by another man and—’

  ‘No.’ Dominik interrupted the angry flow of her words. ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘So what did you want?’ she almost screamed at him, pain and confusion written on her face. Before he could reply, she continued, the devil inside her spurring her on a tide of wrath and hurt, ‘I’m sure it turned you on, though, didn’t it?’

  He looked away briefly. ‘Yes,’ he admitted in a low voice, as if pleading guilty to a minor charge.

  ‘See,’ Summer said, with just a hint of triumphalism, her point made.

  ‘I no longer know what I want,’ Dominik said.