A Walk in the Park
by R. G. Bargy

After a long hard day Sophia needed time and space to unwind and the Park provided it. One of the attractions of her house was that it overlooked the park, acres of space in the middle of such a built up area. You could almost get lost in amongst the trees and, the winding unmade paths. The evening was bright and sunny.

Sophia was an executive in a large corporation. She had worked hard to get where she was, sacrificing, friendship, leisure and romance. She was single and unattached. At 40 she still had plenty to look forward to -- she was fit and healthy, though too old to start a family. If only she could find someone to share her success with.

She walked steadily, her hair flowing gently over her shoulders, a natural blonde which had been partly the reason she had fought so hard for success. Many people had underestimated her by her looks. She wore no bra. Her bust was not overly large; enough, but she liked the feel of loose fabric over her nipples keeping them tingly and alert. The soft cotton dress was just dense enough to camouflage her recklessness to any one except the closer observer. She drew the line at no panties, although she would prefer to be free of them, the breeze could lift her dress to reveal more than was decent. She had a reputation to preserve, at least in public.

Despite her dedication to work she was not completely ignorant of carnal matters. She had a vivid imagination and read avidly during breaks at work and most evenings. She had started with Mills & Boon but more recently had been branching into other things. She had even visited a sex shop once, in Holland where such things are more open and less frowned upon. She had also purchased a vibrator which had kept her company on many a long winterís night.

She had even had the occasional wild fling, but had attracted the attention of the wrong sort of man, more interested in removing her panties than delving into her mind. The last one had been a little more considerate than most, trying to give her as much pleasure as himself and spending time with foreplay. She had learnt quite a lot from Greg. He introduced her to multiple orgasms, which she now could enjoy without the help of his skilful fingers. He had had little imagination though. The most adventurous he had been was to enter her doggy style.

In books she had explored other avenues. Some had revolted her. The thought of cross dressing, sploshing or golden showers could send her completely numb. She was more attracted to the more physical variations, and even wondered about a lesbian encounter. Such things were mostly kept for fantasy or literature. She was not sure how she would react if confronted with tickling or S & M in real life. She could not fully imagine being spanked or restrained, or whether she would freak out or enjoy it, and it was not something you could just go out and ask for.

When she was out walking she would sometimes fantasize about the people she saw. Imagining dark and devious scenarios in which she would be captured and held, but eventually pleasured beyond her normal limitations. She knew such thoughts were both exciting but dangerous and that in reality she would more likely be raped and killed than stimulated and pleasured. Still a girl needed something to occupy her mind and she slipped easily into her reverie.

In the distance she saw the typical villain of her piece. A strong man in a donkey jacket carrying a bulging holdall and sporting a large woolly hat. He had dirty brown boots with steel toe caps and a long loping gate. While he was still some distance off she turned off into the centre of the park. She had a picture of him now and could weave the story without reality getting in the way. The bag would be filled with tools and ropes and he would set upon her and tie her to a tree and then slowly remove all her clothes. No one would come to her rescue and he would spend hours teasing and touching her before carrying her off to be his sexual slave. The story played through her mind until she suddenly realized that there was someone near by.

It was him! He had turned off behind her and was steadily catching up. The path winded down to the lake in the middle of the park and Sophia lengthened her stride. There would probably be people around the lake. He seemed in no hurry to catch her but she was sure that she was on his mind.

Reaching the edge of the lake she saw to her dismay that it was deserted. The path around it was tarmac with a protective rail running around the edge of the water. She sought refuge on the nearest park bench, in the hope that it was just her imagination and that she was not the centre of his attention. She focused her eyes firmly onto a duck swimming on the lake and waited for the danger to pass. The holdall landed on the bench with a heavy thud forcing her to look up.

"Youíre Sophia arenít you." It was not even a question, just a statement of fact.

"Yes, how did you know?" She managed to blurt out, her heart heading straight for her mouth and in danger of leaving her altogether.

"We have a mutual friend; Lorna, Lorna Howarth."

"You know Lorna?"

"Oh yes. Intimately."

She took that at face value. Lorna was a flirt. Well more than a flirt, she was quite happy to go all the way. With a body that would turn the head of a saint and looks to match, Lorna was well equipped and knew how to use it. Knowing Lorna intimately was not a unique position, neither was it destined to impress.

"I am not like Lorna." She replied emphatically. "Neither would I want to be." She added, and immediately wished she had not. For all she knew it could have been more than a passing fling. They may even be close. It was not unthinkable.

He seemed un-moved. "I know."

Sophia ventured a closer examination of this tall and enigmatic stranger. His face was rugged and well tanned suggesting an outdoor way of life. He was built like an ox, with muscles in places she had never seen before, but he was clean shaven and his eyes were soft and gentle: no sign of violence or menace.

"Iím sorry. I seem to have frightened you."

"Itís all right. You just never know. Were you following me?"

"Yes and no. I live over the other side of the park and was on my way home when I saw you. I thought it about time we met. Oh I havenít introduced myself. Forgive me. Iím Martin, Martin Frizeldi"

"Sounds foreign." She said without thinking.

"Well may be several generations past. I was born here as were my parents and grandparents so I believe."

Sophia flushed. This was not going very well.

"My house overlooks the park, so I suppose we are neighbors if you ignore the acres of grass and a few thousand non human inhabitants. It would be nice to see a friendly face occasionally. I moved in nearly a year ago but do not really know any one around here."

"Well I would be more than happy to see you again, perhaps we could arrange a more formal time that would suit rather than rely on chance."

"Not too formal." She corrected. "My life is full enough with meetings and etiquette. It would be nice to be able to let my hair down so to speak."

"And I would enjoy running my fingers through your hair, if that was appropriate."

"Hmm. That might be nice."

"Well I will leave you to consider it. May I call you?"

"You have my number?"

"Well I was hoping you might give it to me. Or better, your address. I can always look you up."

"I donít normally pass on my address or telephone to every man who stops me in the park...† But..."

"Perhaps if I joined you on the bench for a while you might feel more comfortable opening up. I am not an ogre or even a rampant rapist." She motioned for him to sit. He kept a discrete distance from her, his hand resting casually on the holdall. Sophia wished she had not removed her bra, she was showing more than a little sign of arousal.

"So what is in the bag?"

"Tools. Iím a landscape gardener. My partner keeps the van and all the heavy gear. He drops me off on this side of the park to save battling through the traffic. I quite like the walk, unless itís raining of course."

"Gardening. Well that is light years away from my offices and board meetings. May I see?"

He looked perplexed. "Sure, but why?"

"Oh just curiosity. I had visions of you carrying a blunt instrument and shackles."

"No, just tools. Though you might find the odd length of twine. Watch your hand though some of the tools are very sharp."

Sophia burrowed through the bag. There was nothing untoward just gardening implements, a lunch box and flask, and a reel of twine, scarcely more than a couple of millimetersí thick."

"Satisfied?"

"I suppose so. You did give me quite a start."

"How was I supposed to approach you? I did not know exactly where you live. I have seen you a couple of times walking in the park but you always seem preoccupied with something."

"I come here to relax and unwind. My mind is normally wandering, not thinking of anything in particular."

Sophiaís attention was distracted by the approach of a young woman. Long black hair caught in a velvet tie. A leather choker with metal studs. Bare mid rift sandwiched between black top and a very short leather skirt. The top was cut off at the sleeves and† very low front and back. She wore leather bracelets and a barbed tattoo around the top of her right arm. Black almost fishnet stockings and polished leather boots finished the ensemble.

"Now thereís someone asking to be raped." Sophia commented.

"Iíd pity the man who tried."

"You know her too?" Sophia looked incredulous.

"Only by reputation. It is said she has a black belt in every martial art and a few moves of her own on top. Not my type at all."

"Look but donít touch."

"More like beware. She is a man eater by all accounts."

The girl disappeared into the distance. Sophia and Martin sat and chatted for a bit longer before he got up to leave.

"Iíll leave you to your fantasies," he said proving that she had revealed more than she thought. "Iíll call you."

Left alone Sophia considered the encounter. He had undressed her with his eyes most of the time and the lack of bra must have encouraged him. What must he really think? What with her obsession with his bag and wandering around without a bra. Not the sort of impression she would normally want to give. She retraced her steps back to the house.

Once inside she kicked off her shoes and peeled off her dress. It was her house, she lived alone and there were curtains at all the windows. The freedom was wonderful. She pottered about the house doing the necessary chores before retreating to the bedroom. The evening was still young but she had an appointment with a book. She had discovered this author a few months ago and was ploughing through his novels about one a week. This one had reached an erotic interlude which she was looking forward to sharing with her trusty vibrator.

Fully naked she retrieved the vibrator and the book from her bottom draw and propped herself up with several pillows. She immersed herself in the feelings of the female character. As the scene progressed she inserted the vibrator on a low setting and let her right hand caress her body, concentrating around her breasts. She was not gentle with herself, kneading and tweaking as the book demanded. Her breathing increased and she was just ready to increase the vibrator when the phone rang.

"Damn, who could that be?" She exclaimed to no one in particular. Very few people knew she existed let alone her phone number and she had meticulously removed it from all commercial calling.

"Hello?" She said warily, half expecting her mother to be on the other end. That was a regular, long phone call. Just as well there were no such things as videophones, her mother may not understand why her daughter spent so much time naked or nearly so.

"Hi, I hope you were not busy." The voice sounded familiar. "Iíve got to nip to the DIY warehouse and wondered whether I could drop in and see you?"

"Martin?" She said incredulously. "Youíre certainly keen."

"No time like the present. It will take me half an hour or so, is that all right?"

"Yes, I suppose so. Iíve got nothing on at the moment." Her mind guffawed at the double meaning but she kept her voice steady. "I can be ready in half an hour. I will expect you then. Number 36," she reminded him.

"Do you really think Iíd forget?" He chided gently.

First stop was the shower. She allowed the water to just flood over and over her for a few moments. She shut her eyes and tried to retrieve the picture she had just been reading but it was lost for now. Instead her mind jumped back to the park and the tall stranger leaning over her. There was no fear in this vision. She felt surprisingly safe at the thought of his presence and a nervous expectation started to develop inside her. Her hand reached for the sponge and the shower gel. She kept her eyes shut as the sponge caressed over her† delving into the most personal of places, then away under each arm and down each leg. She tried to imagine Martin touching her but found she could not. Those hands seemed so big, so strong, she could not imagine them being gentle, yet this whole being had defied the idea of violence and roughness. There was a conflict here which only time would resolve. Was Martin the Lover she had longed for? Or the wolf at her door, waiting to pounce and overcome her?

Mechanically her hands switched to the shampoo, her fingers pressing hard against her scalp forcing the shampoo into every root of her hair. Then she stood still and allowed the fountain to wash over her again and carry all her cares down the drain.

She emerged a new woman, with vigor and purpose. It took a full eight minutes to fully dry her hair, but she was not that flushed for time. She risked the hottest setting and waived the thing dramatically around forcing her hair into submission. She found a head band, black velvet, and tamed her now frizzing hair with it. With any luck it could calm down over the next fifteen minutes as she rushed round picking up and shoving away into drawers or cupboards. Passing the bedroom her eye caught sight of the vibrator lying where she had left it still glistening with her juices. He was quickly dispatched back to the bottom draw along with her book. A cursory swipe across the duvet brought it roughly into line and she stood up and gazed around. It occurred to her that she was being presumptuous that they would reach the threshold of her bedroom, but the idea had merit. Still she would just let things pan out, not rush or be assertive. Martin had shown more than enough enthusiasm as it was by visiting so quickly. Was she a conquest to be had? Another pussy to be taken? Or did he just want to get to know her?

Coffee. There was nothing like the smell of fresh coffee as you entered a house. It brought warmth and homeliness. She hoped he liked coffee. Within minutes there was the reassuring gurgle of the coffee maker and the aroma spread throughout the house. The doorbell pulled her back to reality. He was here. She hesitated seeing the large shadow through the frosted glass of her front door. No point in delaying, she must meet her fate head on.

"Martin, is that you?" She called through the door.

"Expecting any one else?" He boomed back.

Sliding back the safety bolt with purpose, Sophia opened the door.† She was not quite expecting the sight that greeted her. It was the same man, big, rugged, and muscular and the eyes were the same, soft and gentle, but the appearance was a transformation. Gone was the donkey jacket, dirty jeans, steel capped boots, now there was an air of casual elegance. He had resisted a suit, well, she saw enough of men in suits during the week. He had worn a tie, though, it did not quite work, he looked a little uncomfortable with the top button straining a little underneath a roughly-finished knot. The shirt was lightly patterned and short sleeved. The trousers were neat, but not pressed and the shoes sparkled.

He presented her with the slightly corny bunch of flowers. In his other hand was a carrier bag.

"Did these come from the DIY store too?" She accused.

"I would like to say that they came from my garden." He began. "But I donít have garden."

"Itís the thought that counts." She reassured him.

"How do you know my thoughts are honorable?" He queried.

Sophia ignored the question. Her eyes were examining the bag he carried. She could see what looked like a bundle of rope and some bags of fixings.

"You really do worry about what Iím carrying." He said obviously noticing her gaze. "I said I was going to the DIY store. We have to put up a washing line for a client."

It sounded plausible enough. He put the bag down just inside the door.

"So, do I get the tour? Looks like youíve got plenty of room, especially compared to my flat."

"I inherited it," she lied. The truth was she hardly noticed the mortgage on her salary. "I will show you round if you like. You may as well start in the kitchen while I fix these flowers."

The Kitchen was large and functional. She ruffled around under the sink and found a vase, a splosh of water and then unceremoniously dumped the bunch in. She may sort it out later, when she was alone.

He seemed unusually interested as she led him around the rest of the house. He examined her bookshelves carefully, and looked over her ornaments with more than a cursory glance. His gaze seemed to linger on the magazine on the lounge table. There was nothing to be seen. She had played hostess more than once for work. Her house was as innocuous as possible. Any secrets would be well hidden.

"Would you like to ruffle through my drawers and cupboards too?"

He flushed visibly. "Was I looking that intensely?"

"If I knew what you were looking for I might be able to help."

His embarrassment grew steadily. "Well..."

"Go on."

"I had an inkling you might be interested in something. But..."

"What?

"UM..."

"Spit it out."

"Iím not sure. This might be the end of a promising relationship."

"We havenít started yet. How can it be the end? Now we are both adults. What are you looking for?"

"Well you seemed so obsessed with what I carried; and the look on your face when I walked in with the clothes line..."

It was now Sophiaís turn to grow bright red. She flushed wildly. "I have a vivid imagination." She explained weakly

"The question I was trying to answer was whether you were obsessed with such things, afraid of such things, curious or just plain whacky. And I am still not sure. There is nothing to indicate an interest in Bondage or the like, so I can only conclude that you are afraid in some manner. Or whacky." He added as an afterthought.

"So you want to see my dungeon?" She said as flatly as she possibly could. Martin took a few seconds to decide whether she was telling the truth before breaking in to a wide grin.

"You had me going for a second there. Does this mean you are interested, or not?"

"It depends what you mean by interested. Iím curious, but Iím not about to tie you up, or let you do the same to me. Iíve never done such things and would not even dream of it with someone I hardly know." Martin visibly relaxed.

"Well I admit that I am interested. But, I have never tied any one up or been tied up either. I do have magazines and books on the subject but that is about as far as I have got. May be we can explore such things some time, but for now I think we need to get to know each other better."

"So youíve got magazines? What sort of magazines? I did not think such things were allowed in this country."

"You really are more than a little obsessed arenít you? Tell you what, Iíll bring some round next time, you can see for yourself."

"Fancy a coffee?"

"I thought youíd never ask. I donít get real coffee very often and that smell has been driving me wild."

"Go into the lounge and Iíll bring some in. Milk, Sugar?"

"Neither thank you."

"Youíre easy to please."

Going back into the lounge Martin remebered the computer. Sophia walked in with a couple of† steaming mugs.

"We wonít stand on ceremony." Martin Nodded.

"Say, are you hooked up to the net?

"Sure." She said "You canít be in business without E-mail nowadays."

"How about surfing?"

"I tried it once. All I got was a screen full of boxes pushing every obscene act you could think of, or else it took forever to load and then they wanted your credit card details. I gave up."

"May I?"

"Go ahead. I paid enough for the damn thing I might as well get some fun out of it."

Sophia watched amazed as Martin typed clicked and whizzed his way through numerous web pages and within minutes the screen was full of little pictures of women bound and gagged in all manner of positions.

"If you click on one of the small pictures, or thumbnails as they are termed, you get a larger version that fills the screen."

"Try that one, se said pointing at a girl in what she thought was a classic looking position, hands behind, feet together, some sort of ball in her mouth. As the picture unscrolled she could see ropes wound around the girlís upper body. Her hands were behind her and held close to her bound legs making her bend backwards. The ropes looked like they were tight and bit into her. Her face looked strained behind the gag.

†"Looks dreadfully uncomfortable." She commented. "Why would you do it?"

"Yes, some of the pictures look painful; it seems that people do not associate bondage with sexual pleasure. More like punishment or hurting. I do not like that sort of thing. I look at it more as a teasing and pleasuring type of thing."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, how do you react if someone runs a hand gently up the inside of your leg?"

"I go through the roof. I canít stand it. One person I was with tried it and I kicked him in the head."

"Hmm, not very sexy. But what if you were tied down say like this..."

Sophia watched as another picture unfolded. This girl was also naked but tied to a chair. Her arms were again behind her with ropes around her chest but the face was not wracked in pain, more a look of arousal. Her legs were parted, tied to each leg of the chair. She looked vulnerable but excited. Suddenly Sophia's heart jumped, like she was going over a big wheel. Blood rushed to her cheeks, her palms sweated and her knickers felt damp.

Martin turned round and saw her and started making apologies to leave.

"No," she pleaded, "don't go. I need you here, now."

Martin was perplexed. "What do you want?† Sex?"

"No! Well not exactly. I want to be her."

"You want me to tie you to a chair?"

"And tease me to orgasm, yes."

"But I thought we said..."

"To hell with what we said. Will you or wonít you?"

"Have you got any rope?"

"No but you have. There's some scissors in the kitchen drawer by the sink. Hurry."

Martin could not believe it. He rushed out to the hall and picked up his bag. Went to the kitchen and found the scissors, then returned to the lounge expecting to find Sophia sitting calmly and to laugh it off. What he saw made his heart beat faster. Sophia was naked, sitting on a chair, hands behind her, eyes shut tight, and mouth almost drooling. Her body was tense, almost locked in position of its own accord. He could see perspiration and could sense an electric tension and excitement.

"We need a safety word." He stammered. "Something that means stop, untie me."

"England," she blurted.

Martin ripped apart he clothes line and cut off a length. He clumsily wrapped it round her wrists and tied it off to the chair. He took another length around her waist, round the back of the chair and over her now secure hands. He attached each ankle to a chair leg and then glanced over at the computer screen. They were still on line. He disconnected, knowing that the picture would still show, until the screen saver kicked in. He positioned her thighs by running a rope under the seat and looping it over the top of each leg as he pulled it taught. She was forced open. Finally he ran the rest of the rope around her upper body above and below her breasts but not onto them. He then stood back to admire his handy work. Sophia had hardly flinched since he started, she had been almost rigid, fixed in the position she had sat. Her eyes had stayed tightly shut and her breathing was short and labored.

"You can relax now, it is done." He said quietly. Her eyes flew open and he watched as she tried to move and realized that it was impossible. There was a frantic writhing as the truth dawned on her.

"If youíve changed your mind you know what to say." He said gently.

Sophia stopped struggling and the tension left her arms and legs. She looked up and smiled. "Well youíve got me as you wanted. Now what?"

"Well..." He said slowly. "I have just ruined a perfectly good clothes line. So I intend to get my money's worth. I intend to explore every part of that body of yours and discover how you tick. But first, as you have bared all for me I think it only fair that I should do the same for you."

He tugged at the tie with gusto. He had her attention now. Her body tensed against its bonds as he started to strip for her. He was big, but not clumsy. He kept a steady gaze into her eyes as he slowly gyrated and removed his clothing. She watched intently, desire welling up inside her and she jerked involuntarily within the limitation of her bonds.

"You remember the girl in the park?"

Sophia nodded, her eyes following his every movement.

"Well this is more look canít touch." He paused for emphasis. "Although I do not have the same retrictions. Now letís see what is inside this package."

Sophia struggled to no avail. There was no escaping now. She was his to do as he pleased, yet she was not afraid. She was very aroused, more than she had ever been.

Once naked he approached her. Towering over her, his member pointing firmly to the sky. Sofia's eyes bulged at the sight of him, but she was safe. There was no way he could enter her in this position. He straddled over her without sitting down and allowed her a close inspection of his equipment. She was keen to touch but he withdrew well out of reach of the only part of her available which were her lips. He now proceeded to carry out his spoken intent. Moving to the side, but still in view he stretched out a hand and placed it on the inside of her thigh. The result was electric. She struggled wildly realizing how vulnerable she now was, but to no avail. She was held tight and must submit to his touch. He traced a finger along the inside of her leg as predicted she felt like going through the roof but she was held fast. There would be no mule kick this time. He stopped short of the damp recess in the middle and then passing onto the other leg, right down until the ropes stopped him.† Her eyes were closed trying to control her new emotions. He ventured under her foot. A squeal rewarded this gesture.

"Are you ticklish?" He asked mischievously

"Isnít everyone? She moaned.

"Iím not sure." He paused, caressing the foot as much as the ropes would allow.† He did not linger, perhaps feet werenít his thing. She jumped when he touched her tummy.† He pressed fairly firmly with both hands up her middle being careful to avoid her firm breasts. He leant down, lifted her hair off her neck and planted a wet kiss. He was rewarded with a shiver. He used his tongue to trace the contours of her neck and she tensed visibly. He then started down her back but was stopped by the chair.

"Hmm," he mused, "we will have try some other position next time. The chair gets in the way."

"What makes you think there will be a next time?" She stammered.

"Oh I think there will." He assured her. "Iíve only just started..." A few more wriggles but she was held fast. He continued to inspect the rest of her body. She had no obvious tan lines as sunbathing was not high on her agenda. She could sense him sizing her up and regretted not b to be able to do the same with him. He returned to the front.

"I really am in need." He informed her. "But you do not seem to be in a position to relieve the situation..." He glanced down at the floor. "I would hate to ruin such a nice carpet." He paused for thought." I know."

He retreated back to the kitchen and returned swiftly with a towel. She was puzzled. He found a second chair and placed it in front of her and sat lewdly down, his hand grasping his manhood firmly. The show was brief. He was much too excited to hang on for long. The rewarding fountain was very powerful reaching his chin. He mopped up with the towel but it still left his chest glistening slightly.

"Such a messy pastime." He commented, his body relaxing after its exertions. "Now, letís see what we can do for you."

Discarding the chair he approached her with purpose. One hand to each breast he ran his palms around and around in ever decreasing circles until the goal was reached. Sophiaís head was now flung back, eyes closed as she absorbed theses new sensations. He kissed and pulled at each nipple making them swell and grow. He suddenly released all hold on her breasts to gain her attention and then closed over her mouth with his. She melted allowing his tongue to touch inside but her tongue was kept out of reach. This was a first for her and she was not sure she really liked the way he filled her mouth with his tongue. He withdrew before she started to gag.

He knelt between her legs and made a more close inspection of her. There was quite a lot of blonde hair, showing that she was a true blonde and not bleached or colored.. He ventured a finger inside and found it warm and very wet. He buried his head down there but obviously found that she was barely accessible.

"This position does have its downfalls, " he commented

He returned to her nipples. They were freely available and had shrunk slightly due to lack of attention. He rectified this but let his right hand explore the lower regions. Sophia responded quickly. There was no stopping her and the first convulsions were quite powerful, but he was not going to let her rest. Further spasms quickly followed and he pursued with vigor.

"Stop, stop.! She cried "I canít take any more!"

One more orgasm.

"England!"

He stopped immediately. He worked quickly freeing the knots but letting the loops loosen of their own accord. He had to completely release her hands. She brushed away the remaining ropes and then slumped.

Martin turned away and got dressed. The computer screen was blank. The house was quiet. He drew the curtains as darkness was approaching.† Sophia regained her composure and noted this concern for her privacy.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Thank me?" Martin said incredulously. "You were fantastic. Better than I could have dreamed"

"I think I need a shower."

"I will let myself out." He said moving towards the door..

"No." She said firmly. "You never had your coffee. There is more in the pot. I wonít be long. We still need to get to know each other."

"Actually I got quite a good look." Martin said wistfully.

"I saw enough to want more." Sophia concluded. "Perhaps next time I will tie you up?"

She left him alone to shower. She did not linger this time but allowed the water to freshen and revitalize her. By the time she returned, suitably refreshed, yet still naked, Martin was sipping his coffee relaxed in a chair fully dressed.

"I seem to have mislaid my clothes," she said.

"Really? The wardrobe upstairs seemed quite full when I saw it."

"Never mind. I like being naked, besides, itís not as if you have never seen me like this."

"Oh I donít know." Martin replied "There was something on your body. Look, thereís even a few marks on you."

Sophia glanced at her wrists. "Hmm... I must have struggled a bit. "

Martin nodded. "Just a bit."

Sophiaís eyes rolled. "But it was worth it."

"That was a first for you wasnít it?"

She nodded slowly. "I never dreamed it would be like that."

"Were you serious about seeing me again? I havenít frightened you off or anything."

"Yes Iím serious. Would I present myself like this if I thought you were dangerous?"


"I suppose not." He conceded. "I had better leave before I take further advantage of your nakedness."

"Iím not sure I could go again. You wore me out. Perhaps I should find a dressing gown."

"Donít trouble yourself on my behalf." He assured her. "The view is just fine, But don't say anything if I start to sit on my hands."

She relented and found a nightshirt. It was nearly as revealing as having nothing on, maybe more so but at least she had tried.

They talked for hours. She was already sure that he was the one for her. He was obviously caring and considerate as well as the other interest they had found in common. When he finally left she realized she did not know his address or telephone. She was still only barely dressed so could not run out after him. She closed the door and wondered whether she had been a fool. As she settled down she knew she had not been. She was awoken before her alarm by the phone.

"I forgot to leave my number." He said jovially. "Do you still want it?"

"I meant what I said," she informed him, "I hope I will see you again tonight."

"You can count on it."

"You left behind your washing line." She said casually.

"I thought you might need it."

"I might have a use for it." She agreed. She could hardly wait.