Blame it on the Blackout
A 'Sting in the Tail' Story
By Gato Medio

Chapter 5: An Evening with Fiona

"Good evening, Mister Parker. My name is Liz. I'm a
friend of Fiona's. Is she in?"

A man - Fiona's uncle, I assumed - had answered the door.
He didn't seem very pleased about my unexpected arrival.

"Fiona! There's somebody here to see you." He called into
the house. I could hear Fiona shout, "Just a moment. I'll
be down in a second," from somewhere inside.

"Just a moment. She'll be down in a second," Mister
Parker echoed.

As he stood there, without having anything else to say,
but reluctant to let me into the house before Fiona had
arrived, I had a look at the man about whom Fiona had
said that he made her quiver with desire.

I remembered one of the few concrete facts Fiona had told
me about her uncle. He was teaching maths at a Public
School. Standing in the doorframe in his shirtsleeves,
his glasses pushed up to his forehead, he perfectly
matched my image of a teacher of such a brainy subject.

He was handsome, yes, but not outrageously so. I didn't
notice anything spectacular about him which would have
made him stand out in a crowd. But I agreed that his
energetic chin and his firm, steady look could easily
make a woman tremble in her bones - particularly if she
knew that she was about to receive a spanking from him.

"Hi Liz, come on up," Fiona said as she took my hand and
pulled me behind her.

"You won't forget that we have an appointment at seven?"
her uncle reminded her.

"Of course not, Dad. We'll be down at seven on the dot,"
Fiona assured him with a smile that would be appropriate
between lovers but not between daughter and father.

"Your uncle doesn't seem to be very happy about my being
here," I whispered to Fiona as she led me up the stairs
to her room.

"He doesn't know that you're here to watch my punishment.
He probably thinks I've invited you to get out of it,"
Fiona commented without lowering her voice.

When we got into Fiona's room I couldn't help thinking,
'God, what a mess!' There were clothes, particularly
items of underwear, scattered on top of her bed and on
the floor. I couldn't resist to ask, "Didn't you say
getting spanked has made you a more orderly person?"

"I _am_ an orderly person. I hate disorder. I just do
this once a week to give my dad a reason to punish me. In
the morning, before I leave I open a few drawers at
random and scatter their content all over my room. When I
get home in the evening I put everything back in its
proper place. Today, Deeply Trouble kept me later than
usual. I got here just before you arrived and haven't had
any time yet to put my room in order."

Fiona continued her explanation as she picked up item for
item and put everything neatly into her wardrobe drawers.
I couldn't help noticing that she did have some very sexy
underwear.

"You wouldn't believe the kind of things I do just to
come up with a reasonable list of misdemeanours every
week. Of course, I don't do anything that would really
upset my dad or that would interfere with my education.
It isn't easy to find things that break a rule and result
in punishment, but don't really matter.

"Once, I even went to the movies with Simon, the nerd of
nerds ..."

"Is that a punishable offence?" I interrupted her,
jokingly.

"No," she answered, "that's a severe punishment in
itself. Anyway, I wanted to come home late. Disobey the
curfew, you know? So I asked Simon to explain the plot to
me. I had chosen the film, a science-fiction story
involving lots of robots and androids, to give him
something to talk about.

"Well, he didn't think there was a good shred in the
whole picture. Everything was either logically impossible
or based on superseded theories. I didn't understand much
of what he said, but I kept him talking. Finally, at
about two in the morning, I left his flat ..."

"You were in his flat? Until two in the morning? And
nothing happened?" I couldn't believe that any male - not
even Simon - was capable of spending an evening alone
with Fiona without trying to get closer.

Fiona looked at me with an expression of mock
seriousness. "Dear Liz, you must think I'm a pervert! How
can you imagine that anything could happen between Simon
and me?"

                         -----

I had accommodated myself on the chair next to Fiona's
desk while she went around the room picking up things and
stowing them away. At one point, my attention was drawn
to the wall behind her desk which was covered with
photographs.

Particularly one, the largest of the lot, almost poster-
size, caught my eye. It showed the back of a naked young
woman. Her bottom showed clear signs of a recent
spanking. Although the picture didn't show the woman's
face, I had a pretty good idea who this young woman was.

I was dumbstruck. Wasn't it enough that he spanked her?
Did he have to take pictures as well and hang them on her
wall?

"This is you, isn't it?" I asked Fiona who had noticed my
interest in the photograph.

Fiona smiled. "Do you like it? Don't you think it looks
very sexy?"

I had to admit that the picture gave off some strange
sensuality. I could see the story behind it. A young
woman had her bottom thrashed and then, to rub it in, the
castigator took a picture of her punished backside.

"It's kind of a family tradition," Fiona explained.
"Every year, on my birthday, when I have to take off my
clothes, Aunt Vera tapes my punishment and takes pictures
of the result. I have photographs going back to my sixth
birthday, but my video collection only starts at the age
of twelve. This picture was taken on my birthday before
last. On my last birthday, Aunt Vera wasn't around. So
there'll be a gap in my records."

Oh yes! There was her Aunt Vera. I hadn't seen any sign
of her.

"By the way, where is your aunt. I haven't seen her
around," I asked.

"She isn't here. We don't see much of her these days.
She's in Cornwall, looking after her mother."

"What's wrong with her mother?"

"Parkinson's. She needs permanent care. There are four
daughters. In the beginning they had agreed to take turns
looking after their mother. But then the others gradually
pulled out. Professional commitments, family, all kinds
of reasons. Nowadays, Aunt Vera spends most of her time
with her mother. That's also the reason why she wasn't
here on my last birthday."

Fiona paused for a moment, obviously thinking about
something.

"Hang on a minute! I've just had a brilliant idea. Do you
know how to operate a camcorder?"

"More or less. I've done it a few times," I answered,
puzzled about where this question might lead.

"Stay here. Don't go away. I just want to ask my dad a
question."

Fiona left the room in a hurry. I could hear her rush
down the stairs. There was a short conversation which I
didn't understand, then Fiona returned, beaming.

"Excellent," Fiona said. "You can make yourself useful.
Earn your admission fee, so to speak. We're going to
commemorate my birthday with two months delay and you're
going to film it."

I was stunned. "But I only came to watch!"

"You can watch through the viewfinder. And if that's not
enough to satisfy your curiosity, I'll give you a copy of
the tape."

That closed the subject as far as Fiona was concerned.
She started to get undressed.

"I'm going to have a quick shower. I feel much more
comfortable when I'm freshly scrubbed," Fiona said as she
unhooked and removed her bra and then stepped out of her
knickers.

'What a body!' I thought. Fiona wouldn't look out of
place on the cover of Playboy or any of the other
magazines showing sexy women without clothes on. I
noticed that there weren't any white patches on her
bottom and around her pussy. Obviously, Fiona had been
sunbathing in the nude. And her skin looked so silky-
smooth, it just asked to be touched. There was a tiny
triangle of pubic hair just above her pussy. Everything
else was bare.

Fiona didn't make any attempt to cover herself as she
walked around the room, gathering a few things for her
shower.

I just had to ask. "What's your secret? How do you manage
to have a body like this?"

"My secret? I guess my secret is that I get a good
walloping once a week."

"No, I didn't mean _that secret_. I was asking how you
keep your body in such an excellent shape."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. It does wonders
for the blood circulation. At least that's my theory."

Fiona left me on my own as she disappeared into the
bathroom next door to have a shower.

That couldn't be right, could it? If there were a grain
of truth in her theory, then women's magazines would be
full of articles about this new form of suffering for
beauty. There would be reports with titles like "How I
got into shape by being spanked" with 'before' and
'after' pictures. There would be ads by 'beauty spankers'
offering their services and by people offering courses in
before spanking yoga. The cosmetics shops would offer
specially formulated soothing lotions for afterwards. I
had never heard anything of the kind.

Whatever the reason for Fiona's beauty was, I couldn't
help wondering about all the men who had gone out with
her and never made it to a second date. Wasn't she the
kind of woman men dreamt of? Weren't those men willing to
make an effort to conquer her? Or had Fiona's fixation
for her dad made her unconquerable? I was sure that Roger
wouldn't have any problem to make her dance to his
whistle.

The thought of Roger reminded me that I was supposed to
tell him everything that happened. How much of this could
I really tell him? The thought left me uptight. I tried
to occupy my mind with something else.

My attention turned once more to the photographs above
Fiona's desk. Some of them were already showing signs of
aging. The pictures weren't in any particular order, but
it was easy to see how the little girl on the older
photographs changed into a teenager and then into a fully
developed woman. In the earlier pictures Fiona was draped
over her uncle's knee; the more recent ones showed her
bent over a massive desk.

All the pictures showed Fiona's naked behind, just after
it had been spanked. None of them, except for one, showed
her or anybody else's face. The one exception really
looked like a traditional family shot except for the fact
that little Fiona was naked, draped over her uncle's lap,
right in the centre of the picture.

"That's the first one. It was taken on my sixth
birthday," Fiona said. She had returned from her shower,
still not wearing any clothes, and seen my interest in
that particular photograph.

"I keep this picture wall to remind me of what happens if
I misbehave. So that I don't forget to commit a few sins
every week," she added with a smile.

Fiona took a video camera from one of the desk drawers
and sat down on her bed.

"Come here, so I can show you how this thing works. Just
in case you don't remember."

As I sat next to Fiona, our bodies almost touched. After
a brief explanation, Fiona got up again and took a piece
of paper from her desk.

"This is my confession. I have to memorize it and list
all my sins without referring to any notes," she
explained.

Looking at her watch, she said, "Time to go down."

As I watched her put on her 'punishment shirt', a flimsy
baby doll nighty, I wondered why she bothered.

'This thing doesn't cover anything!' I thought. The
material was much too thin to hide the shape of her
tantalizing breasts. The dark circles of her areolas and
her nipples were clearly visible. On top of that the
'shirt' was so short, it barely covered her sex. If her
uncle was watching her as she came down the stairs he
would have a clear view of her pussy. I wondered whether
exposing herself like this to the eyes of her uncle was
one of the sins she was going to confess.

I also started wondering about the reason behind my
outrage. Was I in danger of turning into a moralistic
bore? My upbringing could not be the reason for my
condemnation of Fiona's behaviour. My father's attitude
had always been to accept other people's choices, no
matter what they were. Was this my way of suppressing a
desire I didn't want to admit to? I told myself to be
less judgemental of other people as I followed Fiona down
the stairs.

                         -----

The punishment would take place in the drawing room which
also served as Mr. Parker's study. One wall of the large
rectangular room was entirely covered with bookshelves.
Near the other end of the room was a massive oak desk. It
had already been cleared of all papers and any other
objects which might get in the way. One half of the desk
was covered with a plastic sheet.

The dark furniture gave the room a sombre mood, in spite
of the additional lights which Fiona's uncle had arranged
around the desk. Fiona told me to check that the lighting
was bright enough to get a good image of the desk and the
person bending over it.

After I confirmed that everything was okay, Fiona told me
to start filming. She pulled her nighty over her head and
stood there, stark naked, right in front of her uncle.
There was enough erotic charge in this room to supply an
entire village with electricity.

I wasn't sure how I was supposed to record this delayed
birthday celebration. Fiona hadn't told me how the other
tapes had been shot. I decided to let the camera act as
the eye of a voyeur. As Fiona was standing with her back
towards me, I started by panning down her back, lingering
longer than necessary on her perfectly rounded bottom.
Then I moved around to her front where I let the camera
pan slowly upward, but not high enough to capture Fiona's
face. As my eyes wandered over this magnificent body, I
could feel my own excitement mount. I suddenly remembered
that I wasn't wearing any knickers.

"Remind me why we are here," her uncle started the
proceedings.

"We are here, because it's seven o'clock on Thursday, the
time of my weekly punishment."

"Did you do anything you need to be punished for?"

"Yes, Dad," Fiona answered, looking straight at her
uncle. "Many things."

"What are they?"

As Fiona stood there, her hands folded behind her back,
reciting a long list of misdemeanours, I got some
excellent shots of her beautiful breasts, including a few
close-ups of her nipples which betrayed her state of
excitement.

I was amazed how meticulously she described each act of
disobedience. Most of the sins she listed were the usual
things most parents complain about: coming home later
than permitted, occupying the phone for hours and running
up a huge bill in the process, staying too long in the
bathroom, not putting her room in order - offences which
I might also be guilty of if my father had established
any rules.

There were also some unusual items on her list. One of
them struck me particularly: Fiona's confession that she
had used her uncle's razor to shave her pussy. I could
understand that a man wouldn't be very pleased about such
behaviour, but I also wondered what made her do it. I
suspected it wasn't only because of her desire to give
her uncle one more reason to punish her, it was also
intended to raise the level of latent sexual energy even
higher than it already was.

As she confessed this particular offence, Fiona pointed
at the scene of the crime, and I could see her uncle's
eyes follow her pointing finger. I couldn't help it. I
had to zoom in on her near-bare pussy to confirm that the
shaving had indeed taken place. There was a moment of
complete silence when only the purring of the video
camera could be heard.

When Fiona had finished her confession, her uncle gave
her a sermon about why her behaviour was unacceptable and
needed to improve. Fiona promised that she would try to
behave better in future.

"Do you agree that you deserve to be punished?" Fiona's
uncle finally asked.

"Yes, Dad. Please punish me."

Fiona didn't need any further instructions. She turned
around to face the side of the desk which had been
covered with the plastic sheet and bent over the top of
the desk. As she did so, she stuck her bottom out and
spread her legs just enough to let anybody who cared to
look have a good view of her pussy - a view bound to
drive any man wild with desire.

Before starting with the punishment, Mister Parker took
off his shirt and applied some oil to his right hand. As
I looked at his upper body, just covered by a thin T-
shirt, I started to understand Fiona's infatuation for
her uncle. The loose shirt had disguised his impressive
torso. Now, the tight T-shirt gave a good idea of his
muscular chest and biceps. This was a man who demanded
respect. I could imagine that many women longed to be
held in these strong arms.

Until this moment, everything I had witnessed had looked
like some strange ritual, something these two people went
through every week. They had behaved like two actors in a
rehearsal. They had learned their lines, but delivered
them without much conviction. Mister Parker's admonitions
and his demand that Fiona change her behaviour didn't
sound like he really expected any change to happen. And
Fiona's promise to improve didn't give the impression
that she had any intention of changing her conduct.

But when I saw Fiona's uncle's hand come down on her bare
bottom, I knew that this wasn't playacting. He was
spanking her for real. The sound his hand produced when
it collided with Fiona's cheeks left no doubt that this
hurt quite a lot. And Fiona's gasp at the first impact
confirmed my impression.

I kept the camera fixed on Fiona's bottom as I watched
the colour of her tanned skin change into a brownish pink
and listened to her stifled cries of pain. But there
wasn't only pain in Fiona's voice. There was something in
her gasps which made me move my focus down from her
bottom cheeks to the spot between her legs which was
producing an impressive amount of moisture.

I couldn't believe my eyes. She was extremely aroused in
spite - or maybe because - of the severe treatment her
behind was subjected to. This was very similar to my
reaction when Roger told me what to expect in the
evening. But in my case, my excitement was in
anticipation of things to come, and it wasn't associated
with any physical pain. In Fiona's case, the leakage
seemed to be the reaction to the harsh treatment of her
backside. Was she really getting off on having her bottom
thrashed?

The scene in front of my eyes, the highly charged
atmosphere and my brief thoughts of Roger were not
without effect on me. I could feel my own juices flow.
And, as I wasn't wearing my knickers, I was sure that
soon my legs would be shining with moisture.

Fiona's punishment took a lot longer than I had expected.
Her uncle didn't give the impression that he was going to
stop spanking her anytime soon. I couldn't stay there,
focussing on her bottom and the wetness between her legs
forever. I had to get a different angle. I moved away
from my position. Mister Parker's legs came into view. I
moved up and almost dropped the camera in shock.

Fiona's uncle was sporting one of the most impressive
erections I had ever seen. Sure, his penis was covered by
his trousers, but the bulge it made left no doubt about
how aroused this man was. Fiona had told me that she
could see what effect she had on her uncle, but I had
never taken her comment literally.

To be honest, I couldn't blame him. I couldn't imagine
any man who wouldn't get a raging hard-on looking at
Fiona's naked body, draped so willingly over this desk
and watching her accept her punishment so obediently.
From what I knew about Fiona, she probably wouldn't have
any objections if her uncle were to drop his trousers and
ram his cock into her soaking wet pussy. To my horror I
realized that I myself wouldn't have protested very
loudly if he had turned towards me to get relief for his
excitement.

I tried to free my mind from these lewd thoughts. After
all, he was Fiona's uncle, maybe even her father. Sex
between those two would be highly immoral, even illegal.
And I already had a man who looked after my sexual needs.

I moved around, filming Fiona's body as it lay slumped on
the desk, until I had a good view of her face. I could
see tears run down her cheeks. So, it did hurt! But when
Fiona saw that the camera was on her, she smiled and
winked at me. She even managed to mimic a kiss into the
camera as the blows rained down on her backside.

                         -----

When Mister Parker stopped spanking Fiona's bottom, I
could see that he was breathing heavily from the
exertion. Fiona remained slumped on the desktop for a
minute or two. Then she got up and hugged her uncle.

"Thank you, Daddy, for punishing me so harshly," she said
as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

This was unbelievable! She kissed him straight on the
mouth as she pressed her naked body against his. Was this
my imagination, or did she actually give his erection a
quick squeeze with one hand?

There was so much intimacy in this hug. I found it
difficult to believe that two people who didn't have an
affair would embrace like this. Fiona had told me how
desperate she was to seduce her uncle, and how futile her
efforts had been until now. Why would she talk about her
frustration if she had already succeeded in her
scandalous desire? I was sure that she wouldn't have to
wait much longer. Her uncle's resistance seemed quite
weak. He just needed one final push, as far as I could
tell.

The embrace seemed to last an awfully long time.
Eventually, Fiona said, "See you later, Dad," as she
peeled herself off her uncle. She picked up her nighty
without putting it on and walked towards the stairs. I
switched off the camera, made my excuses to Mister
Parker, and followed Fiona.

As I walked up the stairs behind Fiona, I had a good view
of her punished backside. 'So that's what my bottom will
look like if I let someone spank me,' I thought. But it
occurred to me that Fiona's overall suntan probably
camouflaged the effect of her father's hand. My own
bottom would probably turn screaming red after this kind
of treatment. And Fiona was already used to it. My first-
time punishment would probably hurt a lot more.

I came to the conclusion that it wasn't a good idea to
press ahead with this crazy idea of having someone spank
me. If Fiona wanted to play this game, if she enjoyed to
suffer at the hands of her uncle, that was her problem. I
could think of many ways of enjoying myself, but this
wasn't one of them. This wasn't my idea of fun. The only
sensible thing to do was to put an end to this mad
desire, to get it out of my mind.

'Oh really?' an inner voice came back. 'Then why did you
get all wet between your legs?'

I looked down my legs without saying anything. 'And this
is only from watching!' the voice insisted. 'Just imagine
what it must feel like to be the one who gets spanked, to
be on the receiving end of such firm hands?'

I was as confused and uncertain as ever.

                         -----

When we got to her room, Fiona dropped onto her bed and
just lay there, belly down, without moving. Either she
was suffering from the effects of her spanking, or she
was savouring the afterglow.

I deposited the camera on Fiona's desk and accommodated
myself on her chair. Some strange urge got hold of me. I
couldn't resist. I lifted my skirt, spread my legs and
started to rub my pussy. I didn't even remember that this
was what Roger had instructed me to do. It seemed the
natural thing to do under the circumstances, and I didn't
give a damn about the world around me.

"Liz, would you be a darling and put some moisturiser on
my bottom?" Fiona requested without moving her head.
"It's burning like hell and it's a bit awkward to reach."

When I didn't react immediately, Fiona turned around and
saw what I was doing.

"Naughty, naughty, Liz! Going out without knickers!" she
said with a broad grin. "Can't you wait until I'm ready
to join you, you selfish girl? First I need your hands on
my bottom. Then you can move on to my front, and I'll
take care of your pussy."

My mind was numb. I couldn't possibly refuse. I was so
embarrassed about having been caught with my hand in the
cookie tin that I was willing to do whatever Fiona
wanted, just to avoid her teasing me.

As I applied liberal amounts of lotion to Fiona's
punished backside, I could feel the heat the spanking had
produced. I tried to be as gentle as possible. I didn't
want to add to her discomfort.

Fiona moaned. "That's wonderful, Liz. You've got such a
gentle touch. Now move a little further down, between my
legs. Yes. A little further. See how wet I get? Now rub
me there. Yes. A little harder. Don't be shy. If you do
this for me I'll do the same for you."

Fiona's hands were on my skirt, opening the button on the
side, then the zipper, pulling down my skirt, letting it
drop to the floor, touching my moist sex.

"Gee Liz, you're just as wet as I am. And you've only
been watching!"

What could I say? How could I explain that this was only
my curiosity, that I wasn't really aroused? How could I
tell her that I had never touched another woman or been
touched by one? That I was strictly hetero? The touch of
her hand on my sex felt so good. And seeing how she
reacted to my touch was such a thrill. I let go. I
abandoned myself to my lust.

Fiona helped me to shed the rest of my clothes. Soon we
were both naked, lying side by side on her bed, fingering
each other's pussy. We were both so excited that it
didn't take us very long to reach our climax. It felt so
wonderful, I didn't feel like stopping - ever.

A general feeling of well-being, a sensation of happiness
took hold of me as we lay there, caressing each other's
sex. It felt almost as good as being with Roger. But this
was more dream-like, gentler, almost like sisterly love.

"Let me give you a special treat," Fiona said with a
seductive smile.

I saw her slide down the bed, her head moving close to my
sex. She wouldn't do this, would she? Roger had done it
many times to me, but that was kind of natural between a
man and a woman. But Fiona and I were both women, and we
weren't even close friends!

As I felt Fiona's lips on my sex, as her tongue invaded
my pussy, all doubts whether I should allow this to
happen vanished. It felt so good, so good! How could I
possibly resist? I spread my legs, inviting her to
continue her wicked assault.

Once more my thoughts turned to Roger. When he licked me,
I felt just as excited as I did now. But with Roger I
knew that it was just the build-up to the main event.
With Fiona, this _was_ the main event - and she treated
it exactly like that. Her tongue found my clit and ran
little circles around it. Her lips squeezed it, sucked on
my hardening knob. I moaned as another orgasm pulsed
through my body.

I had never thought that sex between two women could be
this good. Different from sex with a man, but just as
satisfying. What a fool I had been to deny myself this
pleasure for such a long time!

Fiona's lips and tongue, supported by her nimble fingers,
made me come twice more before she decided that enough
was enough. I knew instinctively that she expected me to
return the favour, and I was so grateful for what she had
done to me that I was willing to forget my taboos.

I had never done this kind of thing, but I had clear
memories of how Roger used to drive me wild as he
caressed me with his tongue and lips. I decided to pull
out all the stops, to give Fiona a demonstration of my
gratitude.

But Roger usually started with long, deep kisses. His
tongue invaded my mouth before it would invade my pussy.
I couldn't do that, could I? I decided that kissing
another woman on the mouth was out of the question. That
was far too immoral, much too kinky.

But I couldn't possibly ignore Fiona's magnificent
breasts. Her dark nipples had hardened a long time ago
and were sticking out invitingly on those wonderfully
firm mounds of flesh. I detected the salty taste of
Fiona's perspiration as I closed my lips around one of
her nipples. Her reaction was immediate. She moaned and
encouraged me to continue. Her entire body convulsed as I
flicked one nipple with my tongue while my fingers
squeezed the other one.

It was clear that Fiona's appetite for sex was far from
sated after the orgasms she had experienced from my hand
on her pussy. She wanted more and she wanted it now. I
let my mouth wander slowly down her writhing body. I felt
like I was on a treasure hunt, except that I knew exactly
where the treasure was hidden.

The first touch of my lips on her pussy resulted in
another orgasmic scream. Fiona's hips bucked to bring her
sex closer to my mouth. I trailed my tongue along her
slit, forcing her lips slightly apart. Fiona moaned her
approval. Every move I made was rewarded by longing gasps
and requests for more.

I tried to remember all the things Roger did to me and
let Fiona experience my version of those thrills. Her
enjoyment of my efforts and her appetite for more didn't
seem to know any limit, but my stamina did. Eventually I
collapsed on the bed, exhausted, lying next to Fiona.

"That was fantastic, Liz," Fiona exclaimed as she hugged
me. "Absolutely wonderful. The best ever. I didn't know
you had so much experience. How did you learn such superb
skills?"

"You're getting a wrong impression, Fiona. I don't have
any experience. Everything I did I learned from Roger."

Fiona misunderstood my comment. "Ah, Roger again! Does he
make you lick his other women before he fucks you?"

I was outraged by such a suggestion. "Roger doesn't have
any other women - at least not as far as I know. And I
have never had sex with another woman until today. You've
got me wrong. What I wanted to say was that I know
everything I did to you only because Roger has done it to
me."

The firm tone of my voice didn't perturb Fiona's playful
mood. "Is he that good? You've _got_ to introduce me to
him. No more excuses."

I got ready to tell her that Roger was up in Scotland,
that I couldn't introduce her to him, even if I wanted
to. But Fiona wasn't waiting for a response.

"I've got the feeling that you're hiding your boyfriend
from me. You want to keep him all to yourself, you
egoist. You wouldn't even share him with your best
friend."

'Share him? Best friend?' Fiona's words echoed through my
mind. After what we had just done, our relationship had
to be classified as intimate. We probably had become
close friends. But what did she mean by 'sharing him'?

"I don't want to take him away from you, just borrow him
for one night. You don't even need to leave us on our
own. You can watch - or join in the fun."

I was dumbstruck. Was Fiona just sex-mad or had she gone
mad, plainly and simply? How could she even think of
having sex with a man she had never met? Her best
friend's man? And how could she suggest that I join in?
There had to be something seriously wrong with Fiona's
concept of moral values.

But I had promised myself that I wouldn't act the
moralist. That I wouldn't assume the moral higher ground.
I tried to dissuade her on a pragmatic level.

"But he's a complete stranger to you. You've never set
eyes on him!" I burst out. My voice probably betrayed how
much I disapproved of her proposal.

"That's right," Fiona answered without flinching. "You've
never even shown me his photograph. I'm sure you carry
his picture with you wherever you go."

Fiona got up from the bed. Before I could do anything to
interfere she got hold of my bag and started rummaging
though its content.

"No, Fiona! Please don't!" I shouted.

But it was too late. She had already found the
photograph.

"Now, how about _that_?" Fiona beamed triumphantly,
looking at the picture in her hand. "You're full of
surprises, Liz. I think I'm going to call you 'lusty Liz'
from now on."

I was annoyed about Fiona's behaviour. The fact that we
had just had sex together didn't give her the right to
inspect the contents of my handbag. But I was also cross
with myself. Why had I decided to carry this photograph
with me? It wasn't meant to be shown to anybody. Why
hadn't I hidden it in one of the drawers in my wardrobe
and selected another, less incriminating picture to carry
around with me? Now, that Fiona had seen the snap, I
wasn't really in a position to reprimand her for being so
nosey.

"Well, he really does have an impressive ..." Fiona
paused and then decided to change direction. "...
backyard," she completed her sentence. "Was this taken in
his garden?"

"No," I answered, feeling deeply embarrassed. "It was
taken in a sheltered part of Chiswick Park."

"Chiswick Park, eh? Right under the nose of the general
public. And who took it?" Fiona asked, still looking
intently at the photograph.

"Nobody did. It was taken with the delayed-action shutter
release on Roger's camera. We put the camera on a parapet
and then posed for the picture."

"Are you sure you were only posing? This looks like you
were caught in the act."

Fiona's reaction was understandable. The photograph she
held in her hand showed Roger and me, both naked. Roger
was standing with his back to a row of trees and bushes,
his cock at full mast, facing the camera. I was kneeling
at his side, planting a kiss on his cock head.

The picture, like most of our adventures, had been
Roger's idea. He knows quite a few isolated spots in
public parks, places where hardly anybody goes. He would
take me there on warm, sunny days, we would take off our
clothes and make love. The risk that we might be
discovered always added to the thrill of letting Roger do
with me what he wanted. But on this particular day we had
refrained from making love. At least as long as we were
in the park.

The thought of what had happened later that day put me in
a conciliatory mood. I took the photograph out of Fiona's
hands and put it back into my handbag. "You've looked at
it long enough," I said. "We don't want you to get
excited again, do we?"

But I couldn't escape Fiona's demands to meet Roger as
soon as possible. She almost acted as if she had a right
to this, "now that she knew him so intimately."

"I'll mention you next time I talk to him. And if he's
interested, we'll arrange a get-together," I promised.

I realized that I wasn't just going to mention Fiona in
passing. She would be the protagonist in my report about
what had happened that evening.

                    To be continued