I am working on a mystery story whose central character, Isobel, has no memory beyond the morning she awoke in the cottage where she is now living but has a formidable knowledge of many things and a range of skills that that seem to come quite naturally. This scene involves her learning that one of those skills is sexual and seemed like a good fit with this weeks prompt.
In the six weeks since her awakening Isobel had spent every evening alone in the cottage except for Dog but tonight was to be different. A few days ago she had seen a poster for a fundraising concert to be given by the church choir supported by some musicians from a school in the Town. This struck her as a virtually risk free first outing.
The sun was already low and shone through the trees with unpredictable beauty as she walked through the wood. When she reached the church it was quite full but she spotted an empty space near the back and squeezed in. Most of the music seemed familiar and with one or two exceptions she knew who wrote it and even had some knowledge of their lives but it triggered no memories.
During the interval she was reaching for a glass of white wine when a grey haired man who she took to be in his fifties spoke to her.
"I wouldn't drink too much of that - it can strip the enamel off your teeth!
She tried it then pulled a face and nodded. He seemed to be on his own and had a warm, rather engaging smile and the wrinkles round his eyes were really quite attractive. They chatted about the first half remarking on how well Victoria's Ave Maria had been played and sung but soon enough they were urged back to their seats. Her body had not reacted in any way to the man unlike her response on the day after her awakening when Dog's "owner" had knocked at her door.
Her mind then had been clear she did not recognise him but her body told her she had been fucked by him and more than once. With hindsight his story about Dog being injured and his intention to return with the car to pick him up was always less than convincing. Dog had shown no sign of injury but greeted her like a long-lost friend. At the time she just put it down to the natural friendliness of Labradors. What was harder to explain was that the well-stocked pantry she had found at the cottage include both dry and wet food for larger dogs!
The concert finished and the audience began to shuffle towards the way out. She instinctively looked around the church and spotted the man at the door. A few moments later as she headed for the path through the woods she realised he was walking slowly in front of her and it seemed impolite not to fall in with him.
"I'm looking forward to a glass of the Pomerol I left to breathe earlier" he said.
"Not a 2009?" she asked puzzled as ever where such knowledge came from.
"Afraid not - it’s a 2010 but still rather delightful!"
Afterwards she couldn't recall any preceding thought process but the next words out of her mouth were "I don't suppose you could spare a glass for a weary traveller with miles to go before I sleep?" He laughed gently and said "For a girl who quotes my favourite poet how can I say no."
His cottage was close to where the path through the woods started and it was immediately clear that he lived there alone - it was a mans home, not macho but clearly male with the odd piece sporting memorabilia and well stocked shelves of books and vinyl albums.. After pouring the wine he switched on an old-fashioned record player and flipped a disc on to it. She was intrigued but feared a heavy choral work then relaxed as she recognised the opening bars of Sketches of Spain. Whatever else she might learn about this man his good taste was not going to be in question.
By the time he needed to refill their glasses her body was in total charge and it ached so hard for the touch of warm flesh on flesh. They were chatting like old friends but he gave no indication of expecting anything more than conversation. Suddenly she stood and walked across the room to stand in front of him.
"You have 10 seconds to make a choice - either we go upstairs and fuck right now or I go back and feed Dog who has been home alone tonight?"
He seemed to be rendered speechless by this but he wasn't saying no so she pulled him out of the chair and directed him to the stairs. A few minutes later she was helping him out of his trousers and trying to ignore the underpants that had seen better days. It was absolutely clear that having sex tonight had not crossed his mind. He was clean but in need to some serious attention to his pubic hair. She stopped for a moment and thought for the first time about her own absence of pubic hair - after six weeks on there was no sign of it growing back so it must have been lasered away.
"I don't have any condoms" he mumbled apologetically.
"We're not going to let that stop us are we?" she replied kneeling down and taking his now erect penis into her mouth. It was clean and well looked after she realised with an inward sigh of relief. Having made clear what was in store for him she quickly removed her own remaining clothes and in doing so realised just how wet her cunt had become. She paused for a moment and inserted two fingers then withdrew them and placed them in his mouth – he hesitated then hungrily licked them and as she removed then whispered what sounded like "more please".
Her conscious mind was now a mere observer while her body was on auto pilot. The man was so entranced by what she was doing to him that he failed to even register the scarring on her back and arse which, though healed, was still the same angry red she had observed on that "awakening day". She directed him to put his face between her legs and gave him clear instructions about licking but not sucking her clitoris and exactly how much pressure to apply. Ten minutes later she reached orgasm, her first since awakening and it felt wonderful as it spread through her body and continued to make her spasm for minutes after.
Now she turned him on to his back and again took his penis into her mouth. Pausing only to plunge her other hand into her cunt to gain some lubrication she slipped it between his legs and sought out the entrance to his anus. Her mind interrupted her body momentarily with the thought that there had better be a nailbrush in his bathroom but she dismissed it and sought out his prostate and began to massage it while continuing to explore his cock, balls and urethral opening with her tongue.
His breathing became shorter and he began to make the strange noises that men make during sex. She was never sure whether they were involuntary or had been learned by watching porn? Either way he was heading for ejaculation and she could already taste the pre-cum oozing from his cock. She pulled away and began to masturbate him - he tried to speak but she silenced him with a long, deep and lingering kiss while slipping a second finger into his anus. Seconds later spunk shot from his cock and landed in her hair. She laughed uproariously while he panted and tried to process what had just happened. Inevitably he drifted off to sleep soon after and she lightly gathered her clothes and headed for the bathroom. Pausing only to clean her nails she dressed and went downstairs.
By now her conscious mind had reasserted control and she found a note pad and pen and sat down to write the following: -
"Thank you for tonight - I hope you enjoyed it too but I really do have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. I hope you won't be too disappointed that I am not looking for a lover but along the way I will need a friend I’m sure. Isobel, xo"
When she reached the cottage Dog bounded to the door to meet her but quickly sniffed at her legs and clothing before turning his back on her. It was several days before he deigned to spend the night on her bed again.
Part 4 of Isobel's Story is here