Chapter 2

Belinda looked in the mirror in front of her on the vintage desk in her bedroom. It was one of those stuffy old things that were scattered here and there in her huge house in need of extensive repairs including a leaking roof that continued to blossom each spring with new areas of concern.

She had been in residence in my middle-of-town apartment ever since the day we first met after the unwanted notoriety about her stepfather’s trial for their alleged incestuous affair a few years back.

Her unabashed joy at anal coupling and a predilection for posterior paddling made her aces in my book and I felt honored to have her as a permanent house guest. Our age difference made any thought of wedding bells much to amusing to even consider. In the event you do not remember or have not read the first part of this story, allow me to fill you in on her physical features and her strength of character.

Belinda was famous for her athletic exploits and had represented the UK at the Olympics on two separate occasions. Strangely, it was for two entirely different events much to the incredulity of most readers of this account. Her first event in the cross-country run resulted in a modest success winning her a silver medal for a close second. She had protested the result because she claimed she was bumped by the Russian female winner of the gold medal. Unfortunately, it was in a deeply wooded section and unseen by any official. She was later in a recorded altercation with the muscular female at a London nightclub causing damage to the lady’s room. Her alleged knowledge of martial arts saved her ass in that encounter in a truly literal sense.

Her second event four years later was for the swimming event called the butterfly four hundred. She bobbed up and down in the pristine Olympic pool to a unsatisfying bronze medal for a far distant third place. It was acknowledged that her oversized breasts hampered her in the struggle against the flat chested competitors that beat her to the finish line. I witnessed that debacle and consoled her with extensive licking and kissing of her offending boobs telling her they were her crowning glory and not to be distraught over the lack of a gold medal.

Belinda was a tall, slender girl with not an ounce of fat anywhere on her body. She showered at least twice a day with the concentration of a fetish inspired need for cleanliness. As part of our spanking routine, I would often enter in her anal passageway with my demanding tongue and never found any trace of dirt inside or outside her tight little sphincter.

Her hair was a natural blonde tone and she had dark eyebrows that appeared to be constantly groomed to perfection. Down below, her blonde pubic hair made her almost seem hairless at first from a short distance.

As stated before, her breasts were quite impressive, and her nipples stood to attention with even the slightest hint of touch with fingers or tongue. She would often tease me with her nipples hoping it would induce me to lick or kiss them with intimate adoration.

Of course, her pussy was always ready for the most demanding use by gentlemen with carnal relations as their goal in her acquaintance. She was quite generous in rewarding good conduct by her male admirers with her sexual favors but kept our anal activities only between the two of us and off limits to other men.

We managed to keep her need for humiliation and degradation a secret between the two of us, and I expected it would be a complete surprise to the lucky man that wed her sometime in the future.

Her facial features included a classic pointed chin, deep blue eyes with flecks of green, and a Patrician nose that she refused to submit to nagging hints from her close friends to correct with plastic surgery.

“My nose is my nose” was her sharp retort to hints of that nature.

Her hair was long, blonde, and flowing with natural grace and a glossiness that came from good genes.

Her breasts we already covered in sufficient detail, and she was often giving them their freedom under her top in public. Belinda’s torso was perfection from years of training for the cross-county event and then the later plunge into the swimming world competition that softened her muscles and made them more resilient. I knew from our bedroom antics that she was supremely agile and flexible in all sexual positions to achieve the highest level of flutters and tingles that her orgasm could supply.

Her bum was petite and smooth. Hidden in the depths of her rear crack, she had an anus that looked fresh and not marred by the customary brown stain that most of us mortals acquire over our lifetimes. I dealt with this area for her in plucking the random hairs that grew without so much as a by your leave. Her pubic hairs were almost invisible and tended to be sparse and naturally curled. Her belly button was an inward thing that she once had used a small ruby to increase its presentation to interested parties.

Her only piercings were in her earlobes, and she didn’t have any tattoos except for a tiny heart on her left ankle.

Her fingers and toes were unusually long for a female, and she was addicted to the monthly manicures and pedicures to keep her nails in excellent condition.

Overall, she was what is referred to in the modern world as a “Hottie” and she did her best to hide that fact to the best of her ability.

I was lucky enough to know her faults as well. I knew of her addiction to chocolate, and she always had a small piece on her person to gobble when nobody was looking. I knew here anal fetish was ingrained in her from an early age. She hid her love of being spanked and being told she was a bad girl. The truth was she was a particularly good girl, but she loved the thought of being bad because it made her tingle stronger that way.