The Model
by Belisarius

conclusion

It was, of course, Tex on the ‘phone. “She up there with you?”

“Yes, she is.”

His voice dropped and became husky, “I suppose your pecker’s in her mouth as we speak.”

“It isn’t as a matter of fact.”

He grunted, “Well, I’m downstairs, so I guess I’ll come up.”

“Not convenient at the moment, old chap, she’s somewhat indisposed.”

A burst of cynical laughter struck my ears, “Well, I aint leavin’ ‘till I’ve seen her.”

“Of course you aren’t, no one’s suggesting that you should. Look, have a drink and we’ll meet you for dinner in half an hour or so.”

“Okay...” he replied grudgingly after a long pause.

I looked at my captive, her eyes were wide with questions and she was struggling to be free. It was a sight I could not ignore, I strode quickly across to her and began to fondle her pubic area, my full hand encompassing the whole of it. At first she tried to pull away from me but after a moment her hips were gyrating and grinding on to my fingers.

“Mhhhhhhhhhhhh...” her cries caressed my ears.

I could wait no longer, my fingers fluttered uncontrollably as I attempted to remove most of her bonds. It seemed like and hour but was probably only three or four minutes before I succeeded and she sat before me with only her wrists bound, though I thought it suited my plans better to keep her gag in place. I pushed her down, stretched out her arms and fastened her wrists to the bed head. Then, with a few strokes my cock was ready and without much further ado I thrust it into her.

At first she was pretending to be mad at me and lay as rigid as an icicle, but it wasn’t long before the thaw came. I humped up and down, her hips heaved towards me and after a very short time we both collapsed, exhausted.

“Tex is here, I presume,” were her first words once her mouth was free of encumbrances.

“Yes, he’s having dinner with us.”

“God, I’m starving.”

“You don’t seem very concerned?”

She made a little twirling motion with her forefinger, “He’s wrapped around it, sweetie.”

* * *

Dinner was a civilized enough occasion, everyone was polite to everyone else and we were all enjoying the french onion soup.

“How did you find me?” asked Moira.

“Aunt Clara’s such a dear, once I’d told her that my intentions were honourable she couldn’t wait to spill the beans. She guessed rightly where you’d be, then she got her neighbour to drive me here.”

“Not Mr Jacks, he told you all about Jutland no doubt.”

“He sure did, seemed as though I’d been there myself by the time we arrived.”

Once the turbot had been served, Tex said, “Well, you gonna marry me or not?”

“What if she doesn’t? She doesn’t love you, y’know,” I put in quickly.

“I don’t love either of you and there’s nothing any of us can do about that,” Moira pointed out.

Tex ruffled his hair, “I don’t much care, I want you and Ah’m sure we’ll live well together.”

“Look, Tex, she doesn’t want you, face it, for God’s sake.”

He turned to look at Moira, his face intense, “Ok, honey, if you’re not willing to give us a go, then there are some cans of film goin’ t’go up in flames.”

“That’d be the end of your studio,” replied Moira.

“Yes, and then what would you do?” I asked.

“Guess I’ll fly floatplanes in Alaska.”

“Try Polynesia, it’s much warmer,” put in Moira wryly.

“Huh, anywhere’s warmer than this benighted island.”

“Look, Tex...” I began and then had to wait until the main course; of chicken in a very poor, thin sauce, was served, “Why don’t you give the girl a break, get the movie out and see how it goes.”

He shook his head, “I doubt I can do that...”

“Sleep on it,” encouraged Moira, “I know I’m going to,” with that she left us to it and went towards the stairs.

I shrugged my shoulders, “Pudding?” I asked.

“Nope, I’ve suffered enough lumpy custard to last the rest o’my days.”

Tex and I retired to the lounge for coffee and brandies.

“You, know, I’m sorry I ever brought her to meet you,” I reflected after my first sip.

“It was fate, ol’ buddy... It was bound to happen.”

I began to fidget. Was Moira waiting for me in our room? If she was, did it mean anything positive?

“Ah suppose you can’t wait to get up to bed to see if she’s stripped and ready.”

“You suppose right. What if she is, would that end it for you?”

He yawned, “Nope, I said I’d sleep on it and I will.”

I swallowed the last of my coffee and took the final sip from my brandy goblet.

“Good night, then,” I said and left him alone to reflect.

She was waiting for me, naked under the covers. I undressed and joined her.

“Didn’t take you long to break free. How’s he feeling?” she asked.

“I think he will destroy the negative,” I replied after a long pause.

“No he won’t, he wouldn’t dare.”

“He dared the Luftwaffe on thirty missions.”

She smiled, “This requires a different… a very different type of courage.”

I lay back, sniffed and sighed very deeply, “Neither of us is going to have you, are we?”

In reply she slid on top of me and began feeling for my penis, which quickly became hard and was guided by her into a very soft, very wet cunt.

“You’re having me now. Aren’t you lucky?”

We made love a further twice after which I fell into a deep sleep and was only awakened by the nearby church clock striking eight.

I struggled to wakefulness, rubbed my eyes and discovered that she had gone, taking her luggage with her.

I hurriedly dressed and went downstairs, hoping to find her in the breakfast room, though I was doomed to disappointment.

“Your ‘wife’ went off earlier, with the American gentleman, sir,” informed the receptionist, who was much amused.

“Give me my bill,” I asked shortly, my mind full of questions.

“The American gentleman paid in full, sir.”

“I see...” I said, knowing that now she was gone from me for ever.

* * *

The announcement of Moira and Tex’s wedding was printed in the Times three weeks later. Her movie became a hit in art houses and with secret bondage devotees. This led her on to greater things and by the mid Sixties I could hardly open a newspaper without some news of her doings jumping out at me. Tex didn’t last out the decade, of course, and she’d been married three more times by 1980. Drug scandals dogged her during the 70’s, but she was still popular with chat show hosts, she appeared on the Michael Parkinson’s programme and many others.

During the late 60’s she was in London staying at the Savoy and I decided to call in to see her. Somehow, I couldn’t resist it, for I still thought of her every day, she was only second in my thoughts to my long dead wife.

After a struggle at the reception desk I eventually was allowed to talk to an aide of hers, who promised to pass my name and telephone number on to her and she would ring me back.

I waited in for three days, the ‘phone rang many times, but never was it her. I suppose I had become just an old guy who’d helped her a little bit along the way. Anyway, I reflected, I can say I once fucked a famous movie star.

The End

Copyright© 2011 by Belisarius. All rights reserved.