A Study in Shame (5 page)

The shop was where I remembered it, and open, allowing me to purchase trousers, jacket and cap in a matching grey camouflage far smarter than the green or khaki. I added boots, thick socks and a heavy-duty sweatshirt that would go some way to protecting my chest, and on sudden impulse a set of lieutenant’s pips and a crimson plume to add a splash of colour without being too obvious. The mirror in the changing room showed a tall lean soldier girl, every inch the officer. With my hair up under my cap I looked better still, and while the jacket was a bit shapeless the trousers were really quite snug and set off my hips and bottom nicely. One thing was certain: I’d be the smartest woman in the team, at least at the start, and I decided to wear my new gear back to the building.

As I left the shop I was feeling more than a little pleased with myself, and enjoying a pleasant daydream in which I was being made to strip from my uniform on a vast parade ground with hundreds of people watching. I’d just got to the point at which my commanding officer was assuring me that my knickers really did have to come off along with the rest when a far more pleasant voice penetrated my conscience.

‘Lucy? Lucy!?’

Only my father calls me Lucy, normally, and it took a moment to realise that the call was directed at me, which meant it could only be Charlie. She was across the road, her brilliant hair concealed beneath a hooded top, the girl who’d fucked me a couple of nights before. I was blushing as I went across, and slightly surprised by the expression of awe on her face. She’d been undoing the shutters of her shop, but stepped out into the street to greet me.

‘Lucy? Are you army?’

The tone of her voice suggested she wanted me to be, quite badly, and I was tempted to lie, but thought better of it.

‘Sorry, no. I’m going on a team-building exercise this afternoon.’

‘Oh … you look great anyway!’

‘Thank you.’

She walked around me, making little purring noises as she admired my outfit, and me beneath it. I could feel my blushes growing hotter for her very obvious attention, especially when she gave my bottom a gentle squeeze.

‘Charlie, not in the street!’

‘Sorry, but you look so good. Would you like to see me later?’

I hesitated, not sure if I dared accept and wanting to tell her that I wasn’t a lesbian. After what had happened between us, it would have sounded ridiculous, but I knew better than to try to explain that the reason I found her attractive was that she made me feel ashamed of myself. I nodded.

‘Maybe. I’d like to, but I’m not sure what time I’ll be back.’

‘I’ll be here until nine.’

‘I’ll try. Must dash.’

It was a lie, as I had plenty of time, but she’d shaken me up. I’d made a date, with a girl, again. It was awkward to say the least, with my job, because, while the company was obliged to pay grudging lip service to same-sex relationships, associating with a girl who worked in a sex shop was another matter. I’d also been trying to put my past misbehaviour behind me, but I’d already failed at that, propositioning her within minutes of our first meeting. In any case, I hadn’t had the heart to turn her down, and it was all too easy to remember how I’d felt bent over her desk with the thick black dildo pushing up inside me.

I’d hurried past her shop, which left me with no choice but to walk along the long straight road beside the bonded warehouse. There was a line of lorries beyond the fence, as before, with many of the drivers lounging nearby, although presumably different drivers. I deliberately turned my thoughts to the joys of big rough men, only to realise that there was a prime specimen right in front of me, my Viking giant.

He was standing outside what seemed to be a small warehouse and had already seen me, and recognised me. The blood went straight to my face and for the second time in a few minutes I found myself blushing over a previous encounter. I wanted to say something, an apology for the way I’d behaved, including leaving my knickers off, but there was no way of mentioning the incident without making matters worse. The most sensible thing to do seemed to be to smile and walk quickly past, but he spoke up as I approached him.

‘Hello again.’

I already knew that his voice belied his appearance, while the sign above the warehouse suggested that he dealt in luxury spirits and might very well be the owner, a Magnus Brabant. Certainly the name suited him. I found myself smiling and slowing down.

‘Hello.’

There was an awkward moment, both of us no doubt thinking of how I’d looked sat on the pavement with my legs apart and no panties on.

He was grinning as he went on. ‘Sorry about the other day. I really should look where I’m going.’

‘Not at all. It was my fault entirely.’

‘No, really.’

It was going to be one of those very English conversations that consist entirely of exchanged apologies, but I knew what was on his mind and I had to say something. ‘I don’t normally go about like that.’

I’d said it, and I was instantly wondering why as the blood rushed to my cheeks. He at least had the decency to look slightly abashed, but he was still trying to hide a grin as he replied.

‘It’s quite all right if you do, not meaning to be rude. Look, I don’t suppose you’re free this evening? Perhaps you’d care for a drink, or dinner?’

My blushes hadn’t got any cooler, because there was no mistaking the implication of what he was saying. He’d seen my bare pussy and he was keen to have another look, and no doubt more. I swallowed hard, struggling to sound calm and collected as I answered him in my best style. ‘I’d be delighted, but unfortunately I’m busy today, until late. We have a team-building exercise, which is why I’m wearing combat gear, by the way. I don’t usually dress like this.’

‘It’s very fetching. Another time perhaps?’

He was giving me the chance to back down gracefully, but I didn’t want to take it.

‘Yes, please. Tomorrow, for lunch maybe?’

‘I’ll book a table.’

That should have been that. I could have walked on, my date arranged, perhaps after exchanging a few polite remarks. Yet if he was as mild as his manners suggested any relationship between us was doomed to failure, while I very definitely did not want him to know anything more about me unless he was suitable. I opened my mouth to speak, knowing exactly what I wanted to say but unable to frame the words. He was starting to look puzzled and I was cursing myself for being such a little coward, but I finally managed to force myself to speak up. ‘Thank you, but look, I …’

I stopped, then realised from the rising disappointment on his face that he thought I was about to change my mind. Suddenly I was babbling. ‘I mean … I mean, it’s silly, isn’t it, all this flirting and messing about when we both know what we want? And it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like you to take me out to lunch tomorrow, but … but wouldn’t you like me to suck your cock, right now?’

My face must have been the colour of a ripe cherry and he was staring at me as if I’d gone mad. Yet I’d said it, breaking every rule of propriety by making a direct offer of sex to a man I fancied, and beneath my blazing embarrassment there was a lot of pride. He wasn’t responding though, just gaping like a big red goldfish, so I took his hand and led him into the warehouse.

It would have been a bit awkward if the place had been full of employees, because, however naughty I was being, I’d never have had the nerve to suck him off in front of his staff, any more than he’d have allowed me to do it. Fortunately, it was a Saturday and he was alone, allowing me to lead him in among the stacks of pallets and loose cases to where a small office stood to one side.

Not a word was said. It didn’t need to be, not now that we both knew what was about to happen, and what I was really like. There were several chairs and a small couch, onto which I pushed him down, then got on my knees on the rough industrial carpet. Still he didn’t speak, perhaps realising that I needed to be on my knees, perhaps scared that he might break the spell.

As I reached for his fly, I was praying he had something worthwhile for my mouth, although I’d have done it anyway and the bulge in the front of his trousers was more than a little promising. Sure enough, as I drew his zip down I could feel the broad solid bulge of what had to be an impressively big cock in the white boxer shorts beneath. I couldn’t help but purr as I burrowed in to pull it all free, his fat white cock and a huge pair of equally pale balls heavily grown with red hair.

My mouth came open. I allowed myself one exquisite moment of shame-filled hesitation as I thought of what I was about to do, and then I’d taken him into my mouth. He gave a sharp grunt as I began to suck, with my tongue rubbing on the underside of his foreskin the way men like it best. Now there was no turning back, and no reason to be coy any more, with his cock swelling rapidly to the motion of my tongue and lips. I sat back, taking him in hand to masturbate him, my mouth curved into a sloppy smile as I broke the silence. ‘Would you like to see my breasts? I think a girl ought to have her breasts bare when she sucks a man’s cock, don’t you?’

He gave a single urgent nod. I continued to play with his cock as I fumbled the buttons of my jacket open, releasing him only in order to shrug it down and off. My top followed, lifted over my boobs, bra and all, to leave myself bare to his gaze. His tongue flicked out to moisten his lips at the sight and I took him in hand again, stroking his balls and pulling at his shaft.

‘There we are, titties out. Do you like them?’

Again he nodded, obviously not a great one for conversation, but his now stiff cock told me all I needed to know and it was turning me on to talk.

‘I can see you do, and I bet you like my pussy too. Did you come over what you saw? I bet you did, tugging on your lovely big cock while you remembered how you saw my pussy in the street, how you saw my bare cunt.’

His cock was now a rigid pillar in my hand and he’d responded to my words with a low groan. I’d sucked enough cocks to be fairly sure he’d come after another couple of minutes once I got sucking again and I wanted my own climax with my mouth still full. As I took him back in, I was fumbling my trousers open, to push them down along with the panties beneath, baring my bottom to his gaze and my cunt to my own eager fingers. I began to suck harder, and to masturbate as I did it, lost in bliss for the feel of having a really big cock in my mouth as I knelt on the floor in front of the man I was sucking, tits out and busy with my dirty little cunt.

We were going to make it together, my pussy already tightening as he began to push himself up and down to fuck my mouth. I took him deep, eager to swallow what he had to give me and go back to my colleagues with a bellyful of spunk, only for him to suddenly grab his shaft and my face, squeezing my cheeks together to force me to hold my mouth open as he pushed his cock down, aiming right at my face and jerking furiously hard on his shaft.

He came, an awful thing to do to a woman, holding her mouth open to deliberately spunk in it, and just the sort of thing I like. As jet after jet of thick white come erupted into my open mouth and over my nose and chin, I was coming myself, in a long sweet orgasm that lasted even beyond his, to leave me sitting back with my mouth wide open to show off the sticky pool on my tongue as I finished myself off.

I thanked him afterwards, while he was trying to apologise for being so dirty with me, assuring him that I was fine and that he could definitely take me out on Sunday. There was still a reasonable amount of time to get to the office, so I made very sure I was decent before leaving him with a lingering kiss. As I walked away, it was hard to stop myself singing aloud. I’d now got two dates, while I’d more than made up for the cowardice I’d shown before. Much more than made up for it in fact, so much more that I knew I ought to be thoroughly ashamed of myself for my behaviour. A man had asked me out on a date, a polite well-educated man, and in response I’d offered to suck his cock, done it and then thanked him for holding my mouth open and spunking in it.

That was hardly ladylike behaviour, any more than his had been gentlemanly, which made me wonder what else he might have in store for me, a thought that kept the smile painted firmly on my face all the way back to the building. I was a few minutes early, but quite a few of my colleagues were already there, gathered around in little groups, men and women apart, laughing together or discussing their tactics. The men looked altogether too confident and too serious for my liking, each and every one of them in full camouflage gear, many with their own guns, helmets, goggles and other gear.

My own, female team weren’t nearly as well turned out, mostly in clothes designed for look rather than function and very few with their own gear. Stacey was the exception, done up as if she was about to go into combat for real, and I made straight for where she was standing with her fellow NCOs. I was full of confidence after what had happened earlier, and determined to do my best to play my role, especially with Mr Scott lingering by the coffee machine in his reflective referee’s vest. Stacey did a wonderful double take as she saw my uniform. I returned a salute and did my best to attempt a military manner as I addressed her. ‘Sergeant Atkinson, are we all ready?’

‘Er … yes, Miss Salisbury.’

‘That’s Lieutenant Salisbury to you, for today, or Ma’am will do.’

She gave me a filthy look, which I ignored as I carried on talking. ‘We look like the weaker team, but I aim to take advantage of that. They’re sure to push forward, probably leaving only a handful of people behind to guard their flag. That’s why I’m going to keep nearly all of us back while only a few of us go forward, very wide, so that we can come around behind them. With any luck they’ll be overconfident and easy to pick off, so that we can hold them at least until our forward group has managed to get through their defences to the flag. Any questions?’

Stacey raised a finger. ‘With respect, Miss Salisbury … Lieutenant, you should let me do this.’

‘What do you suggest then?’

‘Your way, most of us will be bunched up in a group. They’ll just rush us, coming in low and fast on all sides, so they’ll take some hits but one or two are sure to get through. They’ll have our flag before your forward group is anywhere near theirs. We’d be better off spreading out fast and finding cover from which we can pick them off as they come forward, with only two or three of us near our flag. That will slow the battle down, and we’re smaller and more patient, which will leave us with superior numbers, and that’s what’s going to count.’