by Writing Shark
You visit a close friend
“All right BFF, see you soon.” While Amy sits petrified in the back seat of the Cayenne, Katie sits next to her and is on the phone. You have put Amy in a chic black evening dress and her braided red hair is held together into cute pigtails by two black bows. The young thing looks a few years younger, especially compared to Katie, who looks like she wants to go clubbing in her chucks, short jeans and big sunglasses. “It’s done, Sir,” she says. Then you drive the car next to a bus stop and turn around to face her.
“I know I can rely on you, little one,” you say in a tone that sounds proud and Katie smiles. “But you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” Of course this is a test and if Katie says ‘no’ she will be ruined as quickly as a company that introduces woke agendas. But Katie is smart.
“It’s okay, Sir. I knew what I was getting myself into and if you want Ava, you’ll get her.” She fixes eyes with you. “Are you proud of me?” After everything you’ve done to her, all the humiliation, all the sex and all the control over her life, young Katie Douglas just wants to hear one kind word from you. You give her a warm smile that makes her heart soar.
“Love has no place in my life Katie. I’m sorry.” A tear of happiness runs down her cheek.
“So you know Sir?” You nod. How could you not?
“Of course,” you smile and gasp in surprise when Katie throws herself at you and hugs you along with the seat. Then you kiss her on the cheek.
“A sexy little cunt on the go, coming straight away,” she laughs loudly and happily, kisses you on the cheek too and rushes out of the car, overjoyed. At the bus stop (you can’t be seen with her) she waves happily after you but you concentrate on the road again.
“Now to you, little Amy,” you say and wait until the large wrought iron gate opens to the huge property.
“I do what you tell me Sir” she says emotionlessly, but smiles weakly when you look at her. You know this reaction and shake your head.
“Just when it promised to be fun with you. Well.” You swing the door open and pull Amy out of the car next to you, then drag her up the grand path to the mansion’s large door. You almost expect a reaction from the broken girl as you wait, but Amy is well-domesticated and waits nicely for destiny to come. Then the door opens.
“Damian Stratton.” The woman shakes her head.
“Rebecca Fergusson.” You examine each other briefly, then you step towards the woman, put your hand on her cheek and pull her towards you, tenderly. A kiss on the left cheek, a kiss on the right cheek. “I’m very sorry about your husband.” Pain and loss appear on her face.
“Thank you,” she whispers. The loss was only six months ago but today you are seeing her for the first time in several years. “Is that her?” the woman asks and looks at Amy. You nod. “Come in.”
“I like what you did with the house,” you say as you sit down on the large leather couch and look around. Amy stands next to you like a servant, her hands in her lap, her eyes downcast like a good girl. Rebecca sits down in front of you and hands you some tea, displaying her black shirt and white trousers.
“Thank you.” You sip your drinks together. “I needed some change.”
“I can see that,” you say and take another sip. “This establishment suits you better.” Rebecca nods.
“And what about you?” The mature and beautiful woman in front of you spreads her legs slightly in her wide white pants. “Do you still put pleasure before work?” You put your cup down.
“I’ve always had both at the same time.” The older woman looks at you with a look that even you find difficult to interpret. Your relationship is based on respect and, in the past, on good, hard sex. After she got married, only respect. Rebecca Fergusson is a good friend.
“And who is coming with you at the moment?” The corners of her mouth curl up a little as she examines you.
“Olivia Dunne,” you say and the mature woman rolls her eyes.
“I can understand.” Another sip of tea. “Young and sexy, but that was never difficult for you.” You grin too. “How long?”
“Three years.” Her eyebrows go up in surprise.
“It’s been so long since we saw each other?”
“Longer.”
“And how long has she loved you?” Neither of you pay any attention to Amy, who knows better and would stand here without moving until the sun explodes. You tilt your head.
“Hard to say. Half a year? A year? In any case, she has been snapping several times in the last few weeks.”
“Women.” Rebecca groans in annoyance. “I hate these stupid things. But what should you do, right? We just can’t do without them.”
“But she even less so without both of us,” you grin and your good friend follows suit. Then another sip of tea from both of you. You enjoy the peace and quiet with her and really missed her. But there were reasons why you mutually ignored each other, so much so that she missed your father’s death and you missed her husband’s funeral.
“Is this Olivia Dunne good for you?” the woman asks and you nod.
“Yes. Very much so, even if she doesn’t really understand it.” Rebecca chuckles. “I’m serious about her,” you finally admit to yourself. “I love her.”
“Really? Damian Stratton lost his balls?” Rebecca laughs amused.
“Not quite. Amy Wren here can attest that I still have enough balls.” Now you both look at the girl who flinches as Rebecca stands up and approaches her. The elegant woman looks at the young girl as if she were examining a piece of art, an inanimate object that is beautiful to look at.
“Why are you here?” Rebecca then asks skeptically and takes a strand of Amy’s hair in her fingers, smells it and examines her pigtails. You also stand up and step next to your friend. Amy stares at you with big, wet eyes but you ignore her and step behind Rebecca, who is still examining Amy. One hand wraps around the woman’s hip, the other pushes her hair aside so you can lightly kiss her neck.
“Because I’m still keeping our agreement,” you say as Rebecca begins to undress the slightly trembling Amy.
“After all these years?” Amy’s dress falls to the floor and she stands topless in just black panties.
“To you? Of course.” You also look at Amy over her shoulder. “I don’t want you to be lonely,” you say to Rebecca as she runs her hands over Amy’s trembling body. “You deserve to be happy. And Amy here is well trained, just like you want. And she doesn’t like men.” Rebecca ignores the girl and turns to you.
“So? Does she do that?” You grin at her but your good friend looks at you seriously. “You are serious? The agreement?”
“I want you to be happy,” you say again.
“And my part of the agreement?” You smile at her.
“After your husband died? You don’t have to…”
“I want it.” Rebecca briefly leaves the room and then comes back with her cell phone. “Here.” She gives you a phone number. “It’s the right thing to do. For the three of us. “Do you still have Leeroy?” You nod. “That should be enough.”
“See you, Rebecca,” you say and turn to leave, a little surprised that after all this time she still stands by her word.
“And Damian?” You turn around at the door. “Don’t stay away too long this time.” You laugh.
“Are you kidding? I just broke the little one there. Who wouldn’t want to break in a new horse?” You wink.
“Then just bring your little friend with you next time,” you hear. “She can learn something from me.”
Outside in the car you take a deep breath. Not having sex with Rebecca was really hard. But you owe it to Olivia, even though you know you’ll soon be introducing her to your good friend Rebecca Fergusson.
“Fuck I missed her.” You leave without Amy and with new prospects on the horizon.
Writing Shark 