Chapter 12: Caroline - Part 1

When Arlette and I arrived at the bistro, Caroline and Claude, who had gone there directly from work, were already waiting. Claude did the introductions. I ignored Caroline's outstretched hand and kissed her on both cheeks. She looked wonderful. Her pitch-black hair and dark eyes contrasted beautifully with her pale skin, just as Claude had told us. And her mouth! Her full lips were always slightly apart. It made me think that she was permanently ready to plant a kiss on a cock head in front of her.

The pin-stripe suit and loose pullover she wore did a good job of hiding her figure but showed just enough for my trained eyes to detect that there probably was a magnificent body hidden beneath all these clothes.

The situation was too artificial for the conversation to flow naturally. Nobody felt at ease. The person who was most interested in the get-together was Claude because he was hoping somehow that he might persuade Caroline to sleep with him. This wasn't likely to happen soon, but he wanted to maintain a closer social contact, hoping he might eventually get what he wanted. However, this evening his desire had to take a back seat as he played the role of the one who had made Caroline's encounter with me possible.

Caroline probably wasn't all that keen on meeting me but kept up the façade because she had once told Claude that she'd rather go out with me than with him.

I myself never thought that I would fit into the famous-model-meets-fan role, simply because I didn't consider myself a famous model. So I didn't find it easy to contribute.

And Arlette? Arlette had come along to prove to herself and anybody else what a liberated woman she was and that it didn't bother her to see her boyfriend chase another woman.

We ordered some wine to go with our meal. Something light because we didn't want to get drunk; we just hoped that a little alcohol might help to break the ice.

"It's funny how some things you do take on a life of their own," I said to no-one in particular.

I had decided to steer the conversation to the infamous poster, a subject which had slightly erotic undertones, to see how Caroline would react to this.

"When I posed for that poster I did not imagine that it would end up on your office wall, that my room-mate's boyfriend would see it and later recognize me and that we would be going to Le Chambre Séparée as a result of it. How did you actually get this poster?"

I had turned to Caroline who had been awfully quiet, trying to get her involved in the conversation.

"Yes, it's strange how it turned out. I got the poster from the shop where I usually buy my lingerie. The owner knows my taste and immediately told me about the new products which were about to be launched. I adored what I saw and felt quite frustrated when he told me that the products were not yet on the market. Anyway, I asked him if I could have the poster. He said he would still need it as an attention-catcher for the survey but as soon as the survey period ended he would let me have it. That's how I got it. And I think you look very sexy on that picture."

Arlette found that this was the right moment to join in. "So you like to buy sexy underwear?" she asked, and after Caroline had nodded, she continued, giving me a little wink, "I know somebody who thinks it's kind of like a gift wrap, a way of giving yourself to your partner. What do you think about that idea?"

"Hmm, I don't have anybody to give myself to. I just like to wear these silken lacy nothings because they make me feel..." Caroline hesitated for a moment, "desirable."

"Ah, so you do want to look and feel desirable?" This time it was Claude who joined in.

"Yes, but before you get the wrong idea, it's not the kind of desire that men think of all the time."

It was only a short walk from the bistro to Le Chambre Séparée. When we arrived there, the place was starting to fill up. The entrance to Le Chambre Séparée looks a little like the lobby of a five star hotel with guests checking in and finalizing the requirements for their rooms.

As we walked towards the reception desk a man patted Claude on the shoulder and said, "You're a lucky fellow, young man."

He was referring to the fact that Claude was arriving at Le Chambre Séparée accompanied by three attractive females, something most men can only dream of. I had never thought about what effect this might have had on Claude's ego.

I told the clerk my name. He checked his computer, looked back at me, seeming a little surprised, and then handed me four keys. "You're in the VIP suite on the third level. I hope you all have a good time at Le Chambre Séparée," he said with a smile.

Access to the elevators and the rooms is controlled by small micro chips embedded into little pieces of plastic which function as keys. They come on an adjustable strap which allows them to be worn around one's neck, wrist or any other place one might chose. They open doors without needing to be inserted into any slot or similar device and prevent people from strolling - accidentally or intentionally - into places where they're not supposed to go. The chips also serve as charge mechanism and allow guests to put any food, drinks or other items they order on their bill.

Our box faced the stage and offered just about everything one might expect from a top class lover's nest. The adjoining room had two double beds and a sliding wall which could be used to create two separate bedrooms. There was also a fully equipped bathroom including a Jacuzzi large enough for four people.

Soon after we arrived, Caroline excused herself and went to the bathroom 'to powder her nose'. Claude, Arlette and I looked at each other, all thinking that this meant she would 'slip into something more comfortable'.

Arlette took the opportunity to take off the dress she had been wearing. Underneath she wore a see-through baby doll nighty and a matching thong. Her seamless suntan had started to fade a little but she was still very proud of it and didn't want to miss the opportunity to display it to everybody in this place - and nobody could say she was naked.

"It seems like you've caught on to this gift-wrap idea," I said jokingly. I had prepared for the occasion by wearing the black bra and panty combination from the famous poster with the intention of shedding my dress at a convenient time and letting everybody appreciate that picture in the flesh. I had also brought along an identical set, only in white, for Caroline to wear. But I decided not to rush things and stayed the way I was, wearing a simple, unspectacular black dress.

The performance had just started with a number called 'Carnival in Rio'. The number probably didn't have much in common with the real event in Rio, but that didn't matter. The rhythm was contagious, the girls were beautiful, and their costumes, although miniscule, had everybody wonder what treasures might lie hidden beneath them. The audience loved it.

When the doorbell rang, I went to answer the door. It was a waiter carrying an ice bucket, a bottle of Champagne and four glasses.

"There must be a mistake," I said, "we didn't order any Champagne."

"This bottle comes with the compliments of Monsieur Meunier," the waiter said, pushing past me and depositing everything on a little table. "He apologizes for not being able to be with you tonight and hopes that you have a wonderful time. If you require anything else, please let me know. It's all on Monsieur Meunier."

We asked the waiter not to open the bottle as we were still waiting for Caroline.

When Caroline returned she was still wearing the same clothes as before, so we all felt a little disappointed. She didn't seem very pleased about the Champagne and at first didn't want to drink any. But we jointly convinced her that she had to at least join us in a toast to our generous host.

The dancers had completed their first performance and the band was now playing some smoochy number to give the audience a chance for some close encounters of the sensual kind.

"Let's dance," said Arlette, grabbing Claude by the hand and pulling him after her.

I watched the two leave, then I turned to Caroline and asked, "Shall we dance too?"

She agreed, reluctantly. When I suggested that she would be more comfortable without her jacket, she took it off, just as reluctantly, and followed me to the dance floor.

She was about two inches taller than me but she let me take the lead. I danced with her cheek-to-cheek, holding her body close to mine. As we moved through the multitude of dancers we happened to meet Arlette and Claude. He had put his hands under her baby doll top and was caressing one of her breasts. This had caused the garment to move up and gave everybody a good view of her thong-framed bottom.

"They're really enjoying themselves," I said to Caroline, "shall we do the same?" With that I put one of my hands under her pullover, hoping I might be able to move up to her breasts.

The moment my fingers touched her skin she froze. With an expression of terror in her face she moved away from me and said, "No, please, don't. It's all so sordid. Please, can we go back to the box."

Her reaction surprised me, but I wasn't going to force her into anything she didn't want, so I followed her back to our box. On the way I concluded that she had probably never been touched by another woman, and had quite clearly never slept with a man - a double virgin!

Caroline sat down on the bed, supporting her head in her hands, looking down at the floor. I slid the dividing wall into place, assuming that Arlette and Claude would soon want to use one of the beds in privacy.

Then I sat down next to Caroline and put my arm around her shoulder.

"Listen, Caroline," I said gently, "I'm sorry if I went too far too soon. I just thought if you don't want to be desired by a man, you would prefer to be desired by a woman. And all this talk about sexy lingerie made me think you already had some experience. Look, I've even put on the clothes from the poster to get you interested in me."

I got up, undid the zipper of my dress and let it drop to the floor. I stood in front of her naked except for a tiny bra and some miniscule panties. She looked up and seemed impressed.

"You are very beautiful," she said almost inaudibly.

"I'm sure you're at least as beautiful as I am," I responded. "Look I've brought exactly the same model for you to wear. Would you like to try it on?"

She looked at the bundle of frilly textile in my outstretched hand and was clearly tempted. "Only if you promise not to look," she finally said.

I went out on the balcony watching the multitude dance in close embrace. When I returned to the bedroom Caroline sat huddled together on one corner of the bed like a trapped animal, covering herself with her arms as if she were ashamed of her body.

In spite of her efforts, she was not able to completely conceal her beauty. The sheer white lingerie almost matched the colour of her skin, her breasts seemed to be wanting to jump from their lacy prison. And the legs! It seemed that her slender legs would never end. If women were capable of getting hard-ons I would have had a huge erection, just from looking at those legs. Oh, how I longed to trail my tongue along them until I reached the point where they met!

But such thoughts seemed to be idle fantasy, because she could hardly bear letting me look at her, let alone touch her.

"God, you look fantastic," I said, "why don't you stand up and let me have a look at you?"

"It is an offence, punishable with expulsion, to try to entice members of the teaching body."

Where on earth did that come from? She had pronounced the sentence in a trance-like voice, as if reciting some rule book she had memorized. Was this some trauma she had experienced? Had she been thrown out of a school for displaying her underwear, or possibly more, to a teacher? I didn't know how to handle this sudden outburst from deep inside her psyche and made the common mistake of concluding 'If you don't understand it, ignore it'.

I wanted her to become comfortable with her semi-nakedness by letting her see that I was comfortable that way. I walked deliberately around the room from one end to the other, briefly went out to our balcony to check what was happening outside and then returned. Then I lay down on one side of the bed, hoping she would lie down next to me. That didn't happen but she did turn around to see what I was doing and it seemed to me that she was a little more open, relaxing her cover a little.

"Did you ever feel like touching another woman, caressing her most intimate parts?" I asked, trying to make it clear that I would be available if she felt like trying out what that felt like. She didn't react.

I tried again. "Did you ever long to be caressed or kissed all over your body by another woman?" Still no reaction.

"Do you never touch yourself, your breasts, between your legs, and feel that beautiful sensation of lust?"

She looked at me as if she didn't have a clue what I was talking about.

I said, "Before I used to go out with men I had a very close relationship with another girl. We used to spend hours lying on the bed like this - well, not actually like this, we didn't have a stitch on - bringing each other off. I used to enjoy that very much. Would you like to try it?"

She barely acknowledged that she had heard my voice but didn't react to my suggestion. I decided that a practical demonstration might help. I took off my bra and started pressing my breasts against each other to make the nipples stand upright. Then I ran one of my fingers around one nipple. I got hold of her hand an placed it on one of my breasts. It lay there without moving.

In the other half of the room I could hear Claude and Arlette returning from the dance floor. They noticed that the dividing wall had been moved into position. Arlette said, "I think they're at it," and Claude replied, "Let's do it too."

They seemed to be quite excited and hot for each other. Soon I could hear them dropping onto the bed and only a few seconds later there were the unmistakable sounds of two people making love. In my mind I pictured Arlette lying on her back with her legs spread wide and Claude on top of her, pounding his hard cock into her moist pussy.

As the rhythm of the humping got faster I took Caroline's hand and slipped it inside my panties. I hoped somehow that the activity next door might inspire her to move her fingers in the same rhythm.

The humping noise behind the wall soon stopped. Now I could hear Arlette complain. "Oh no, not again! You promised you would be slower this time, you would wait for me!"

Then there was Claude's voice. "I'm sorry, I just got so terribly excited by it all. It's going to be better next time, I promise. There will be a next time, won't there?"

Arlette mumbled something which indicated that she hadn't completely given up on him, then the room became quiet again.

"Oh dear," I thought to myself, "their relationship isn't going too well either."

I could feel my frustration rise. Caroline's hand rested on my sex, but from what I could tell it didn't make any difference to her if it rested on my pussy or on a dead fish. There wasn't a spark of desire in sight. My own sex life was going very well, thank you very much. I didn't have any need to seduce her. Why should I have to struggle with other people's hang-ups?

I removed Caroline's hand from my panties, got up from the bed and put on my bra. Then I got her clothes which she had placed neatly folded on a chair and handed them to her.

"We don't have to do this, if you don't feel like it. Let's get dressed and watch the show."

She hesitated and looked towards the dividing wall. Maybe she was worried what the others might think, or maybe she was worried that they might hear me.

I lowered my voice and said, "We don't need to tell anybody what happened or didn't happen between us. We'll just behave like two discreet lovers."

She still didn't want to take her clothes from me.

"I think I can do this, but I need your help. I need you to tell me," she said timidly.

"You mean teach you?"

"No. Order me."

Flashbacks of my relationship with Charlotte passed through my mind. Of course, that had been a completely different situation, but I had been only too happy to submit to Charlotte's wishes because it meant I wasn't responsible for what I did, I didn't have to feel any guilt. Could it be that Caroline needed someone to order her so that she could overcome some kind of taboo, some feeling of guilt?

I asked Caroline, "Do you really want this?"

"Yes I do, very much."

"Do you want to be my slave and do whatever I tell you to do?"

"Yes I do," she answered, surprisingly lively. She seemed to have become animated by the thought.

"Okay, this is how we'll do it: I'll give you a slave name - Isaura. When I call you Isaura, you have to do what I tell you, when I call you Caroline, you're a free human being."

I wanted to try it out immediately, so I said, "Isaura, put your hand inside your panties and stroke your pussy."

She did exactly as I had told her and sat there with one hand inside her panties, stroking her pussy.

After a while I said, "Isaura, stand up and pull down your panties so I can see if you're already wet."

Again, she followed my orders to the T. I couldn't believe that I was finally going to see that closely-guarded secret between her legs. I knelt on the floor in front of her to have a good look. Her pussy lips were slightly puffed up and I could see some moisture between them. I concluded that not all hope was lost. As my next step I wanted to give my slave some public exposure and ordered her to put her panties back on. Then I pulled her behind me to the dance floor.

Our arrival, two beautiful young ladies, scantily dressed in matching underwear, caused quite a stir. We were even noticed by the band's female singer who announced that the next song was dedicated to the 'black and white couple'.

The applause which followed this announcement grew even stronger when she added that the next number would be 'Je t'aime'. This old Jane Birkin song was still pulling in the crowds and the dance floor filled rapidly with dancers wanting to do the song justice by demonstrating their affection to their partners.

I had seen the band perform the song before and knew that the singer used to emphasise the words by caressing her breasts and eventually rubbing her crotch through her dress, a gesture which would have looked vulgar in most women but she performed it with so much style that it was extremely arousing to watch her.

As we danced, I pressed Caroline's body close to mine. She seemed a lot more relaxed now than during our first dance but I still had to tell her exactly what I wanted her to do. As soon as the singer started to caress herself I turned Caroline around so she was facing the stage and held her from behind, caressing her nipples through the thin material of her bra. I also told her to put her hand into her panties and to masturbate.

I could feel how she slowly moved her hand up and down her slit as I squeezed and rubbed both her nipples and whispered encouragement into her ear. Her movements became more frantic and as the song reached its end her body shuddered and she climaxed with a moan that sounded like the last yelp of a drowning man. Her legs became weak and I had to support her weight to avoid her dropping to the floor.