Pleasure in Control Ch. 01

I composed myself and opened my overnight bag. I slipped into the plum-coloured dress and changed my shoes, deciding I didn't need tights for an interview with a down-market flat-pack furniture retailer. I put on some perfume and waited, musing over the series of events unfolding. There was something about Kirsten that puzzled me. She seemed just too stylish, too confident and just too damn sexy to be a sales assistant in a shop.

Kirsten waltzed out of the bathroom, still wearing her luscious cream bra and panties. She grabbed some clothes from her range of wardrobes and slipped on a thick rib-knit sleeveless top with a high roll-neck, and a pair of fashionable trousers.

In moments we were outside in the unseasonally warm April air, heading for St. Christopher's Place. We sat at a table outside a small, friendly Belgian restaurant and Kirsten drew the attention of the waitress, just by being there. We ordered beers and water, and we talked. We laughed, we chatted and we questioned each other. I told Kirsten all about myself, my family, my education and my recent life in France and learnt almost nothing about her.

The time with Kirsten passed quickly as I became more and more enthralled. I couldn't keep my eyes off her. Hers were always moving, darting from my lips to my own eyes and down to my body. If she thought I was losing concentration she would lightly touch my sleeved arm, but never my hand. For my part, I couldn't help but admire the way her ribbed top clung to her small but tight curves. Kirsten had seen me naked; now I badly needed to discover what her breasts looked like, freed from the constraints of her employer's products.

"Tell me about this interview, who is it for".

I gasped and looked at my watch. "I must go soon or I will be late".

"Wait, tell me about it."

"The vacancy is for a Mystery Shopper for a furniture company. They need someone to visit retailers posing as a bona fide customer to test the commitment, product knowledge and customer-care skills of the sales staff. Then they need written reports and ...".

"But Julia, I know that Passionella are considering introducing Mystery Shoppers. Surely, a woman with your interest in fine lingerie, your natural poise and your easy style would rather work for us than some back-street bookcase-maker? I can call my Sales Vice-President now and ask her if she has an opening for you."

I thought for a second and was just about to speak when Kirsten pulled from her bag the smallest, smartest mobile phone I had seen. She was through in a moment and talked animatedly.

"That's arranged then. You need to be at Passionella HQ in Mayfair at 10:30 tomorrow. Here's the address, just see Rachel in reception, she'll be expecting you. You'll be interviewed and have the company philosophy and rules explained to you. There are no vacancies in France so you'll need to be based in England. When you accept the job offer you will make another appointment for full training."

What could I say. Of course, this sounded much more appealing than chipboard cabinets. What was even more appealing was the way Kirsten had just taken over my life.

I called the hotel where I was supposed to be and cancelled my interview, only realising after I rang off that, in so doing, I had lost my room for the night too. I looked Kirsten in the eye and smiled the most endearing smile I could manage, my legs turning to jelly and a warm but nervous rush welling up inside me.

"Kirsten, now I have no-where to go tonight. Can I sleep at your place?" It was unlike me to be so direct.

"Of course, that sofa folds out to make a large and comfortable bed."

Perfect, I hadn't intended sleeping in Kirsten's bed with her.

"Oh, and I don't have any suitable clothes to wear, I was expecting to be going back to Paris tomorrow."

"You can borrow some of my stuff. You'll find a stretchy top and some trousers that will fit you in my wardrobes. Borrow some panties, and a bra too – they all belong to the company – but you might struggle to find one your size" she said, flicking a knowing look at my full breasts.

The rest of the evening was free now so we ordered food and eventually headed back to her studio apartment at around 10:00 pm. The atmosphere was highly charged as we entered the room but Kirsten immediately put me at ease. After one last coffee, we folded out the sofa bed and Kirsten produced crisp, clean sheets and a soft duvet. The reality dawned on me that now I was going to undress again, and I didn't feel in the least bit nervous. Kirsten had seen me naked in the store, but she had also seen me getting off on her reflection in the mirror.

Kirsten offered to lend me a long nightshirt but I declined. I undressed quickly and climbed into bed, enjoying the feel of the clean linen on my naked skin. Honestly, it wouldn't have surprised me if Kirsten had climbed into the bed beside me, but instead, and to my relief, she flicked off the lights and headed to the bathroom.

My mind was racing as I thought about the day. I was unable to contemplate sleep as I thought about the lovely Kirsten undressing in her bathroom, and the warm, moist feeling between my legs. How I hoped that Kirsten would be naked when she walked the short distance to her own bed, so I could make out the shape of her breasts, illuminated by the orange glow of the streetlamps outside. Sadly, when she emerged, she was wearing a camisole and French-knickers set with lace trim and thin shoulder straps. As she turned to climb into her lonely bed, I could just make out the silhouette of her nipples pushing against the silk.

I desperately wanted to masturbate myself to sleep. I felt like I had never felt before and grappled with the dawning realisation that I could be a lesbian. My thoughts went back to school, to the shower rooms and to the old school rules.

How could I rub my aching pussy with Kirsten in the same room? I lightly touched my protruding nipples and had to stifle a gasp as I realised how sensitive they had become. If I covered them with my hands, my warm touch intensifying the feelings. If I didn't, they rubbed tantalisingly against the soft fabric of the duvet with my every move. I moved my shaking hands slowly down my rib cage as it rose and fell with every breath, over my perfectly-formed navel (for which I must thank a caring and skilled midwife) and down my lower belly to the edge of my prominently rounded Mound of Venus.

My blonde pubic hair was wet with my juices and had become slightly matted. I ran my fingers through it like a comb to free the curls but the feeling was too intense. My breathing had become fast and shallow and my throat was dry. Kirsten was sure to hear me.

Then I decided that I needed all my composure and concentration to face the next day and if I brought myself to orgasm it was sure to be deep, powerful, exhilarating and exhausting. I secretly knew that, sometimes, I enjoy a long teasing build-up, with the slowly building anticipation and the self-denial being as enjoyable as the climax itself. The promise of what is to come being as good as the come itself. The satisfaction of knowing I have the self-control to overcome the quivering tension in my body and the aching in my cunt, and that I can resist the temptation to fuck myself to a shattering crescendo.

I moved my hands slowly to my sides and lay still, basking in the warmth of my new friend's spare bed.

In that blissful limbo between waking and sleep I thought I heard, from the other side of the room, a slow rhythmic rustling of bedclothes followed by a quiet, low moan.

I drifted off to sleep.

* * * * *

Pleasure In Control is a full-length novel and this is just Chapter 1 of 17. If you like this please let me know though the site and I'll post some more chapters. It gets much hotter and the sex much more explicit but I'm keeping you guessing for now.

I originally posted the first 5 chapters all together but I have now split them up and have also corrected some errors.

x Julia, 20 August 2005