Secluded House
Copyright© 2007 by Heel
Chapter 11: Pamela
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 11: Pamela - A flat tire turned Tiffany's life upside down for good.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including BDSM Doctor/Nurse Foot Fetish Leg Fetish
It was a quiet Sunday afternoon. I was sitting in an armchair, watching TV. Unexpectedly dull day. The rain had stopped but the sky was still overcast. I had planed to go out with friends. The rain ruined it all. Moreover, there was nothing interesting on TV.
The doorbell rang. I went to the front door supporting myself on the crutch. A tall woman was standing outside. She was blond and athletic, and looked to be in her late twenties. A pair of gray eyes was staring down at me. The left corner of her mouth twitched up in a wry smile.
"I am Pamela," the woman said.
"Pamela?"
"Dr. Steven Corbett was my husband once. Can I come in?"
I let her in. Her big cowboy boots clicked loudly on the tiles. I closed the door and followed her into the living room. She sat on the couch and crossed her legs. I slumped into the armchair opposite her.
"What happened to you?" she asked and pointed at the crutch.
"Car crash," I answered without hesitation.
"Did he treat you?"
"Yes."
"Can you tell me where is he now. I can't find him."
"How did you find me? What makes you think that I know where he is?"
"Oh! This is a long story. His mobile is constantly switched off. I got anxious about him so I went to his house. It was locked. Steven has a friend in the village. He is mechanic. I asked him about Steven. He didn't know where he is but he remembered the registration number of your car. I thought that you are a friend of sorts, and here I am. I just want to know that he is OK. I am not interested in your relationships with him."
As Pamela was talking, something was bugging me. I couldn't determine exactly what it was. Maybe I simply don't like her. I had the feeling that I was missing something important.
"I don't know his whereabouts," I said.
"Are you dead sure?"
There was a hint of malice in her voice.
"Absolutely," I answered and stood up propping myself on the crutch.
Pamela uncrossed her legs and stood up too. She followed me down the corridor, toward the front door. Her boots were clicking behind me. In this moment, I understood. This woman is not Pamela. What a silly fool I am! I wore Pamela's green clog when I broke my leg. Steven gave it to me. This woman here has big feet. Suddenly, I lost my balance. The crutch slipped away from me and clattered on the tiles. She had viciously kicked it. I sprawled down heavily. Before I could react, she pressed me down. Her strong hands grabbed my throat, strangling me.
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