Golden Spike

At 12.47 pm on 10th May 1869 at Promontory Summit, Utah, the driving in of one last rail spike united the Union Pacific and the Central Pacific Railroads, creating the USA’s first transcontinental railroad. For the first time, East coast was bound to West coast by a band of steel. Wires were attached to both the spike and the hammer, so that the moment the hammer fell a circuit was completed which sent the news across the nation and set off a wave of rejoicing.

Not quite as momentous, maybe, was the joining of the two ends of the drainage pipe, uniting our shower room with the new soakaway, halfway down the garden, at our summerhouse. However, the sense of elation as the two ends were roughly lined up with each other in the bottom of their muddy trench, and at the satisfying click as a well-placed boot locked them into place, enabling the joining ring to slide over the joint and secure it, was much the same. We now have a functioning shower again, which means, among other things, that we can invite guests to stay again. I suggested to Heather that we could celebrate by taking a shower together but she shuddered and declined. Having been out of use with a blocked drain for the best part of a year, it needs a major overhaul including a good going over with the pressure washer before a shower in there is once again an inviting prospect.

For me, it was a weekend of hard physical work as, with the help of my brother-in-law, we we extended the trench back towards the house, pullled out the old porous pipe, now completely stuffed full with sand, and installed the new. Heather, in the meantime, was doing her bit to rid the world of dangerous unsolved Sudokus. That’s fine by me: We both work hard during the week and she has her way of relaxing at the weekend while I have mine.

I only just got the last bit finished before it was time to go home. We don’t have satellite tv at the summerhouse and I didn’t want to miss the repeat of ’Heston’s Tudor Feast’ on Channel 4 (We’d missed it on Tuesday as we were out at the pictures to see 'The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo'. I don't know if it is on general release in UK or US as it is a Swedish film but it is absolutely gripping, though hard to watch in parts - See it if you get the chance). Apart from the essential TV viewing and supper, which Heather kindly cooked for me while I soaked in a scalding bath, it was early to bed for both of us.

When I came to bed she was curled up and almost completely hidden by the duvet. This wasn’t a promising sign: While I hadn’t exactly expected her to be lying spread out on top of the bead shouting ”Take me now, big boy!”, I would have preferred her a bit more lively. Never mind. I cuddled up next to her, moulding the shape of my body to hers, kissing her neck and shoulders, enjoying the warmth and sweet scent of her that I found there. I slid my arm round her waist and placed it firmly on the springy little triangle of hair that was reachable above her firmly closed legs. A searching finger sought out the little fold at the very top of her cleft and tugged at it, gently at first, but gradually more insistently. She murmered her appreciation and, encouraged by that, I took a firmer grip of her fleshy mons in my hand and pulled slightly.

Suddenly she came to life, rolling towards me, flinging her arms around my neck and kissing me deeply. She was pressed up hard against me and I had to force my hand down between us to seek out her clit. While I gently teased her with my fingertip I started to whisper all the dark and dirty things I was going to do to her. Not tonight, but at some time in the future as yet unspecified. She grew more and more breathless as I described the blindfold, the leather cuffs on wrists and ankles, the inflatable ball-gag. How I would hang her up in a big X on the hooks in the bedroom doorway and mark her backside with the riding crop. How I would whip her back and shoulders with the flogger until her legs gave way. How I would caress her then and comfort her, tease her clit to the very brink of orgasm and then leave her, hanging, both literally and mentally. Leave her in darkness, not knowing what would happen next. .

Her voice became tinged with anxiety.

”You can’t do that” She pleaded, as if she were afraid I was going to leave her on the brink there and then.

”Oh, but I would” I whispered. ”I would leave you there wondering and then, when you least expected it, I would whip you again, and I would bring you to the brink again, and then whip you again and repeat it over and over until you were screaming into your gag and the tears ran down your cheeks.”

”And then” I continued. ”I would unhook you and throw you down on the bed and fuck you hard while I licked those salty tears from your cheeks”.

She came with a despairing cry, and I did lick real salty tears from her cheeks as she clung to me. Then, wordlessly, she rolled over and got up on all fours. I knelt up behind her and she backed onto me, letting out a long, satisfied ”Aaaaaah” as she impaled herself deeply on me. I stretched up with my hands behind my head and let her do all the work, rocking gently backwards and forwards, clenching on me until I released my pent-up flood of semen into her.

Then, in the half light, we lay on opposite corners of the bed, drying ourselves up and laughing. ”I love it when you talk dirty to me” she said. I suppose I’m just very fortunate that my fantasies and hers co-incide so well. That just telling her what lurks in the darker corners of my imagination is enough to get her soaking wet.

I must invest in that inflatable ball-gag soon.