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This is the second part of the tale of Caroline & Heather. You will need to read the first part for it to make any sense.
There is a slightly harder edge to this part, with a bit more fetish content in it. Those of you who might not like that might want to leave now and just remember Caroline’s happiness at the end of Part 1…
For those of you brave enough to continue, I hope you enjoy it. It is as usual a slow burn.
All characters are well over the age of 18.
On Monday, I set to work revising the design of the bikini that Heather had tried on the previous day which had resulted in our passionate afternoon in bed.
Sitting at my bench, with the scrap of material in front of me and bright light pouring in behind me, brought a smile to my face. The memory of Heather’s lithe body and the pleasures we’d given each other came flooding back.
We had said goodbye late the previous evening. The final gentle kiss to each other’s lips, after so much passion, was symbolic in its simplicity. It was as if we were promising each other “more to come…”
As she was leaving Heather told me she had to go to a conference in London for the week, something about internet fraud. I was slightly dismayed by this news, but we agreed to meet on Friday when she got back. I offered to look after Solomon whilst she was away.
Our enforced separation was good in some ways. My body was tired and slightly sore from the exertions of the previous day, and I needed to get the swimwear range finished by the end of the week, so I did not really want any distractions…
As I unpicked the section of stitching that had not gone together properly, my nose picked up a hint of Heather’s secretions. I could not resist bringing the garment to my nose and breathing in Heather’s smell again.
Tempting though it was to indulge myself, I resisted. Pleasure was now something to look forward to not look back on. There would be plenty of time…
Later, the door buzzer went and I hurried down to the hallway to collect a courier parcel. It contained the briefing documents for the first collection for my new range for the London client. I made coffee and settled down to read them. Unlike the local retailer, the details were very comprehensive. The range was targeted at quite a young customer, so the designs would need to be on trend. I started researching recent catwalk shows for ideas on the net.
Time evaporated that afternoon. It felt like an hour or so had gone when I looked up next, but it was already six o’clock. My mobile rang – it was Heather…
“Hello Sexy. How are you?”
“Fine thanks. How is the conference?”
“Sooo boring. I think they found all the speakers in some sort of IT morgue…”
“I wish I was joking. How are your pretty stretchy things today?”
“I hope you mean my swimwear!… All good. I got my new design brief and redesigned that bikini..”
“I’m not sure I’m happy about that. I had such fun in the old version…”
“Me too…Still you can try on the revised version on Friday if you are back in time. I will need to make sure it fits correctly very carefully…”
“Can’t wait for that..! Is Solomon OK?”
“Yes, all good,” I lied..I’d clean forgotten about him..
“Listen, I’ve got to run, I need to change for the dinner. You be good…”
“Coming from you I’m not sure what that means. I still can’t believe you watched my every move.”
“Sure did – and loved that Grand Finale!”
“Please don’t mention that again, I can feel my cheeks burning…”
“As they should, though possibly not the same cheeks you mean. I may spank you properly this weekend if you don’t behave yourself.”
“Err.. OK.. I think.”
“Kiss on those lips.”
“And yours.. bye…”
I dashed upstairs to check on Solomon. He was pleased to see me and rubbed around my legs until I put his food down. Heather’s flat was rather soulless in her absence. Odd bits of furniture and the sound system were missing following Stephen’s departure. I made a point of blowing kisses to the ceiling in case she still had the cameras on, and waited till Solomon settled down to wash himself before I left him for the night.
Tuesday dawned sunny and bright. Summer felt just around the corner. I dug out a delicately patterned summer skirt and a stretchy top that showed my assets off to their best. Tights were consigned to the bin and strappy sandals dug out of the closet.
I packed up the samples and got in the car to go to Sample Maker. Driving up the motorway I listened to Adele, who seemed in every song to be longing for someone…it was if she had written it all for me…
I thought about Heather. I imagined her in some airless lecture room, dazzling all the nerds around her. Was I really in with a chance of capturing her heart? I felt like she had all the cards in the game…
I turned Adele off and put Chopin’s Nocturnes in the CD player. I had always found that the number 1 Nocturne helped me when I etiler escort needed time for contemplation. I rested my head on the headrest. The tyres thumped occasionally on bumps in the road, but the gentle piano music surrounded me and my equilibrium restored itself…
Later, on the return journey, my phone rang.
“What are you up to?”
“I’m on the motorway wrestling with roadworks. What are you doing?”
“Mmm – sounds unpleasant. I’m drinking a skinny latte killing time waiting for another session on the Dark web..”
“I think I prefer the M1.”
“Yes, I think I do too. Hey, reason for calling is to check what you are doing on Friday?”
“Checking final samples and dropping them in I hope. I need to have them finished by lunchtime. What’s up?”
“Oh nothing much. I just thought I would tell you to be at Cindy’s by 3pm, – my treat. I thought you might like a pamper session in readiness for our weekend? Oh and on Saturday we are going to Stowe, there is something I want us to do.”
“Stowe? isn’t that some fancy school?”
“Yes, you’re going there for the weekend.”
“Wow, sounds riveting..”the sarcasm in my voice could hardly have been more obvious.
“Just wait you…, you have to have faith.”
“In you, yes, but not in some crummy school.”
“Exactly, now be patient,” and she rang off.
The week started to drag. Friday couldn’t come round soon enough.
On Wednesday, Heather and I swopped a couple of explicit text messages, she about my bum, me about the location of her freckles, but other than that it was a rather nondescript day.
Thursday arrived hot and sunny. I bought some early strawberries at the supermarket and took my sketch pad down to the river to work on some print designs for a beach bag. I found a secluded spot on the river bank under a beech tree and settled down to draw. The sun was dappling on the ripples of the water, and the ducks were chattering to each other. It felt good to be outdoors…but, I was listless. My drawing tense and introspective.
The problem was I felt as though my life was in some sort of suspense waiting for Heather to come home.
Whilst I had plenty to do to keep myself occupied, in my head I felt rising tide of anticipation. My appetite had disappeared and my love of coffee seemed to have vanished.
Had last weekend been for real? Was I just dreaming about my chances with this wonderful woman? Would she come back and show me she cared for me? I was so unsure of myself. For all that my new appearance had raised my self confidence, where was this all going?
She was over twenty years younger than me and, no matter how I looked it, I was rather conventional, whereas she…well she certainly wasn’t conventional.
I searched in my bag for my phone and rang her. I just wanted to hear her raspy voice to reassure myself?
“Hello…sorry to bother you but I couldn’t remember what time I had to be at Cindy’s tomorrow?”
“I told you the other day. It’s 3pm. Don’t be late!” She sounded impatient.
“Sorry – no I won’t. Is everything OK?”
“Yes, fine. I’m just with my boss that’s all.”
“Oh OK, sorry…I’ll go.”
“No don’t. Tell me why you really rang?..,”
“I just wanted to hear your voice…”
“Hang on, let me step outside.” There was a pause and then, “That’s better. So are you missing me?”
“No… I’ve got so much to do I haven’t time to miss you.”
“You’re lying..I may not know you very well but I can tell when you aren’t being truthful. You have an inflection in your voice.”
“I’m not, I’m fine…” a tear rolled down my cheek, and I hurriedly felt for a tissue.
“No you’re not. Look, I’m sorry the way this has all turned out, I promise I will make it up to you when I see you.”
“OK,..” and the wobble in my voice gave away the tears in my eyes.
“Do you miss me?” – God why did I ask her?… I braced myself for her reply…
“Yes of course I do silly. It’s just that I can’t let anything get in the way of my work at the moment. I really need my job now Stephen and I have parted. Do you understand that? – Please say you do?”
“Yes I suppose I do really, it’s just…”
“Caro don’t. Be patient and concentrate on your work a little while longer…please?.”
And then the line went dead.
The weather broke on Thursday. There was a thunderstorm.
In the evening I was so worried about Solomon I went up and sat with him for a couple of hours. I finished off the artwork for the bag. I was pleased with the results, my monochrome geometric pattern looked fresh and youthful. It was ready for the client. Solomon jumped up and snuggled down next to me on the couch. He purred when I stroked his stomach. Outside, the rain lashed down and the lightning flashed through the skylights.
When the storm relented I went home to number 12, made mint tea and went to bed. I sat up for a while staring at the pages of my book, but gebze escort my mind was elsewhere, contemplating our next meeting.
The weather cleared by Friday morning. The TV weather girl was promising a hot weekend. I packed up the sketch, and took it down to the Post Office. I’d decided to wear a black tee shirt and knee length shorts, but the temperature I soon found out was not quite warm enough for a tee shirt. I was conscious that my nipples were rather erect as I confronted the young Asian guy who ran the Post Office counter. Fortunately, he was too busy with his forms and his labels to notice…
I rang Heather as I walked home. She didn’t pick up, so I left a cheery message on her voicemail. I tried to sound enthusiastic but not desperate. In reality my emotions were still all over the place with anticipation…
I went home and changed into a long sleeved top with my navy fitted jacket, and ditched the shorts for jeans.
Whilst I had been out the postman had delivered the reworked bikini. Even though the samples were not due till Monday, I wanted to make a good impression, so I walked in to city and dropped them off at the client. The junior buyer, a rather unpleasant girl with an over inflated ego was happy with them, especially with the bikini which was ironic! I almost skipped home such was my relief at beating the deadline.
Shortly after 2pm I drew a bath and soaked myself. It was ages since I had been anywhere near a beauty salon so I was looking forward to Heather’s treat. I studied my nails. They would definitely look better for some attention.
When I was dressing I heard my mobile ring in the living room. I dashed to get it, but it had gone off by the time I got there. It was a missed call from Heather – no message. I stood in the living room in my undies, (sensible black ones, almost new ), and tried calling her back. Voicemail again, so I just said “Sorry, I was in the bath, see you later” and rang off.
It was about ten minutes walk to Cindy’s. When I found it, I realised I must have walked passed it a number of times in the past and never noticed it. The building was one of those substantial double fronted houses set back from the road behind a high wall and shrouded by mature trees. I walked up the garden path between rows of delicate box hedging and rang the bell.
A small Asian woman dressed in white trousers with matching white sleeveless tunic greeted me.
“You must be Carolyn,” she said proferring her hand.
“Caroline actually”, I said and immediately scolded myself inwardly for being picky…
“Sorry… Caroline. I am Cindy. Please come through.”
As she closed the heavy front door she beckoned me to follow her. We walked down a long passage with colourful floor tiles and in to a large bright room at the back of the house.
“Please sit down,” and she ushered me to a delicate white wood sofa with turquoise silk cushions.
She sat down on a rather upright white dining chair facing me. Her slight appearance was rather disarming, she looked barely old enough to be a beautician, never mind own her own business.
“So how can I help you today?” Her manner was comforting.
“Um well…my friend Heather booked a session for me as a treat?”
“Yes, of course, Heather, she is a long standing client. So what did you want me to do for you then?” She leant forward as she asked resting her elbows on her knees and folding her hands.
“Well…” I hesitated, “my nails are a mess,” and I waved my fingers at her.
“Yes, I can see that and i can attend to them. Was there anything else?”
I felt rather stupid for a moment. I had been thinking about everything else but what actually I wanted whilst was here.
“My eyebrows? Oh and a facial perhaps…?”
Cindy leaned further towards me and her fingers ran over my eyebrows and cupped my cheek.
“Mmm..possibly, though if I am honest your eyebrows are immaculate, but I can give you a nice facial, yes…Anything else?”
I felt pressured by her gaze, but then my brain cleared.
“I thought Heather might have booked some treatments?”
“Yes that’s true, she booked you one of my special hot stone and oil massages. Come into the treatment room then and we can get started.”
After finishing my nails with a dusky pink polish, I endured a lengthy facial. I had never been keen on people messing about with my face and Cindy was no different. There were endless cleansers, steam and creams.
Cindy then invited me to undress and settle myself on the massage table. I stripped down to my panties whilst she was out of the room and lay down on the table, covering myself with a towel. I gazed at the mouldings on the ceiling and waited.
She returned carrying a tray with a pestle and mortar, two plastic bottles and a cup of hot green tea. She handed me the cup and saucer and the put the rest on the bench behind me.
She waited for me to finish the tea, and then took the cup and saucer and put it aside.
“So, we can start,” and göztepe escort peeled back the towel. She folded it and standing beside me looked me up and down.
“Your bikini line could do with a wax I think, but I will leave you to decide..”
“Yes, I know. It’s just that I think Heather rather likes me the way I am,” and as the words slipped from my mouth I realised what I had just said. I blushed profoundly.
“That is odd. In the past Heather has been fastidious about keeping her own bikini area neat and tidy for her partners. Still it is of no matter.”
I pondered on what Cindy had just said. Particularly the word “partners”…
.A few moments later, the blinds on the window closed and the room darkened. Gentle music, Mozart’s 23rd Piano Concerto unless I was much mistaken, filtered gently into the air.
Cindy asked me to remove my panties, So I did, but I felt vulnerable and awkward.
She opened a hot cupboard and produced a pile of steaming hot towels. She peeled off the first one, opened it and shook it out to cool it.
Starting with my feet, she carefully cleansed each of my limbs, legs, arms and then my body. She rubbed the towels up and down with long strokes and a gentle firmness. I closed my eyes, eschewed any lingering embarrassment of being nude in front of her and allowed myself to float away.
She turned me over and the towel treatment was repeated on my back and even between my buttocks, which made me blush! I felt I was being expunged of all dirt and contaminants. She turned me over again and towelled my front. When she reached my pubes she sensed me tightening.
“Please relax Caroline,” she said softly before wiping into my bush and down to my vulva with deliberate smooth strokes.
Next, she invited me to lie on my stomach. She put my hair in a turban and helped me down and into position, so my face was over the breathing hole. I felt a drizzle of oil on my right leg and soon enough her hands set to work. Within moments I realised why Heather had arranged the treat. Despite her delicate frame, Cindy’s hands and arms were gifted when it came to massage. In the heavy dark atmosphere with the smell of tea tree from the oil hanging over me like a shroud, her fingers started to conjure their magic into my limbs.
She was neither gentle nor firm, but just right. Her hands seemed to find every little nook in my leg muscles that needed stretching and teasing. No place was left untested, and she went back over and over again. Her fingers worked so fast and her elbows were so soft that it felt like there were at least two masseuses working on me.
My brain started to fog and I fell into a reverie with the pleasure from her hands on my skin. Right leg, right arm. Left leg, left arm. It was beautiful in its simplicity, but it was so sensual… the piano music ebbing and flowing, my skin, muscles and bones stretching and relaxing.
Soon she was on my shoulders and then working on my back. Her fingers kneading, pulling and gently digging in between my vertebrae…
Then two hot stones, cradled in her fingers, worked my backbone and around my shoulders. They clacked together as her hands moved up and down my back. A smell of orange blossom drifted to my nose, accompanying the warm caresses from the stones. On and on and on it went, and it was heaven.
I lost all track of time. The music changed from Mozart to something electronic but dreamy.
The stones were discarded and her fingers started again on my shoulders. They worked down my sides until they reached my bottom.
No one had ever massaged my bum before. My memory of previous massages was of uncomfortable paper panties and no touching below the waist. I was so relaxed at this point I didn’t really care. Her supple fingers were probing and teasing my generous rounds. Circles of motion and pleasure and, for the first time, the effects started to send messages between my legs. I tried to blot out the sensations, but the insistence of her fingers became impossible to ignore.
Just when I was starting to worry about how wet I was getting, she invited me to turn over on to my back again.
She started again on my neck. Her fingers moved slowly in a dance of circles and squares. Then she moved to my shoulders and down to my breasts. She teased my nipples fleetingly before slowly working down my abdomen and into my pubes. I was getting very very wet.
Down she went, past my vulva an on to my legs, left first then right. Time seemed to stand still. My feet and toes were pressed and pulled over and over again. It was sublime.
Just when I thought she had finished, she invited me to roll on to my stomach once more. Once settled, two more hot stones were gently placed between my shoulders. There was a pause, Cindy was at the bench behind me, unscrewing bottles, mixing something with the pestle and mortar. I waited, soporific from the massage.
Suddenly I felt a finger, slick with oil, work it’s way between my buttocks. I was so relaxed I let her continue. The finger moved down and soon I felt it pushing at my anal ring. The finger pressed in momentarily and then withdrew. She dropped her hand down further to find my labia which she pinched between two fingers lightly. She let go and the same fingers went back to my anus and gently prodded again.
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