Later on that day I make my way into central London and Leicester Square. I’m expecting the cinema where Jess and I are having our ‘meet-up’ to be one of the big ones that you see on TV when the Brits have a premiere with the stars in attendance. There’s none in the victory by the name of the Prince Charles though, and I struggle to find a local to ask, the place being heavy with tourists mooching about.
Spotting a couple of mounted police officers slowly making their way through the square, I mosey up to them with the intention of asking for directions.
“Hi,” I say to them, hamming up my American accent on noting they’re both female – like it makes a difference to me getting anywhere with them. “Could you ladies direct me to the Prince Charles Cinema please?”
While they look at Each other to see if one knows more than the other, I check out their garb. I’m always intrigued to see female Police officers, and the novelty of the foreign information makes the notion evenMore sexy. That’s aside from the fact that this two are in equestrian gear: form fitting jodhpurs, leather boots in stirrups, not to mention their strong legs straddling a beast.
Turns out London’s finest aren’t totally sure, but think it’s – “Leicester Place; just round the corner,” – saying so in a Cockney accent which reminds me of Katie. I’m sure Katie would appreciate their charms too.
“Thanks,” I say obligingly, and start to head around the corner to the confusingly similar named Leicester place.
That’s when I see Jess walking over with a slightly worried look on her face. “Hey. What’s with the Police?’
“Oh I just needed directions,” I reply.
“Oh, no problem,” she says, looking relieved. “So its just over this way” – taking my arm and directing me.
“Its not one of the big ones,” she tells me. “More an indie kinda art house place. I’m told the building originally functioned as a theatre, but after a short period supporting the dramatic arts, theVenue was reinvented as a porn cinema.”
“And now its an art-house cinema?” I muse.
“Yes, they show a lot of contemporary world cinema, as well as golden oldies and even sing-a-long movies like the Rocky Horror show.”
“So what are they showing tonight?” I ask, all raised eyesbrows highlighting my worry at the prospect of a singalong.
“Well something a bit edgy,” she replies. “You’ll have to wait and see. I won’t spoil it for you.”
This is indeed a little gem of a theater tucked away around the corner of the busy square, with the entry a reasonable price. It also has a bar with stools, much like a geneuine English bar.
“So what’s your poison Patrick? My turn, given that you just bought the tickets.”
I read recently that it’s all about wine and wasabi peas at these kind of places so deviate from my usual Irish whisky and opt instead for a – “White wine please? Sav blanc?” – while omitting the wasabi peas.
It’s three deep at the bar but Jess works some kind of dark magic to turn back to me sharpish with “a crisp New Zealand Marlborough for the gentleman.”
“Thanks,” I say, on her handing the wine glass to me. Although her assertions on the quality of the wine, she herself has gone for some kind of masculline looking cocktail in a hi-ball glass, albeit with a straw.
“You’re welcome,” responds Jess.
She’s wearing black leather gloves as usual, and again I take pleasure in seeing one of the seemingly ubiquitous garments stretched tight and shiny around a hand gripping her glass. The other secures the straw through strictly pursued bright red lips.
“You must be feeling the cold here huh?”I ask as we perch ourselves on bar stools, nodding in reference to her never seemingly removing her gloves. Not that I’m complaining of course.
She mulls it over while sucking on the straw, her face a mask of concentration. But before able to explain, is interrupted by an abrupt call from behind her.
“Ellow?..Patrick?..” – a loud and unexpected announcement, the words taking a moment to register, arrive as they do with a strong London accent.
“Katie?” I blur out with surprise as she appears from behind Jess – now turning to see who it is herself.
“Who’s this ‘ere then Paddy?” Katie says with an impish grin. “Is this the girl you were talking so much about? Are you on a date?”
I throw Katie a tongue in cheek evil glance while Jess’ back is turned away from me, prior to her facing me again, awaiting my response to Katie’s accusation.
I’m still debating how to answer Katie’s question as she launches into further indomitable Katie-style dialog. “Gawd, Pete’s right, you are beautiful!”
Jess reciprocates with a smile, standing up with an outstretched hand along to – “Hi, I’m Jess.”
I myself attempt not to blush. Bless Katie though, the pain in the ass that she is – she’s saying things by proxy that I should be saying myself. As much as I can’t believe she’s gate-crashed the party, she’s proving to be the ultimate wing man so far.
“I’m Katie. Great to meet you! Pete’s staying with me while he’s over…”
Katie tails off suddenly, gawping at Jess, whose long coat has inadvertently come undone at standing for the introduction.
Head pulled back in amazement, mouth open and widened eyes scanning up and down, Katie abruptly launches into – “Christ! Are you wearing latex?”
I hadn’t noticed before, assuming they were just very shiny leather boots visible under her long coat. But now that she’s undone the jacket, the grey skirt she’s also wearing is just above the knee enough to see shiny black latex leggings (or maybe even latex stockings!) which blend in with her shiny black high heel shoes, making it appears to be all boot when not focusing.
Trust Katie to spot that straightaway.
“Yeh, I’ve got my latex stockings on!” Jess confirms, beaming presumably at them being noticed. “They’re one of my biggest sellers, and of course I recommend them myself. I love to wear them unexpectedly under vanilla clothes,” – confiding in a slightly lower tone with a glint in her eye – “It makes me feel dirty in an illicit kind of way.”
Katie’s gawp is morphing into an admiring smile. “Bladdy hell! So you sell this kind of stuff?”
“Uh huh,” Jess confirms, nodding.
“This ones a keeper Pete!” remarks Katie on turning to me with a mock earnest look.
“So if I promise to get my mate Patrick here to be real good to you, would it be worth a discount?”- Katie directs at Jess, all cheat as usual. “I’ve got a lot of friends” – motion to a group of lesbian looking girls at the bar -“who I can get you some business from. Maybe do something like a tupperware party, but with your fetish Wear instead of shine utesils?”
“Sounds like a plan,” says Jess laughing. “But that all depends on how good Pete is to me,” – added as a cryptic caveat, raising her eyes to Katie in a language thatapparently only women understand.
“Great!” says Katie. “Speaking of which, are you into the whole play scene yourself? There’s a ball coming up tomorrow night at a club in South London.”
They’ve some lost me now, but it receives a positive response from Jess. “For sure I am. Pass on the details to Pete and him and I will make a date of it.”
I pay a fleeting thought to Jess being a bit presumptuous, and also wonder exactly what the next date is that she’s signed me up to, but I’m happy all the same, her words inspiring confidence in me that I’m in with a geneuine chance.
“Awright,” says Katie. “Well cheerio; I’d best get back to me girls. Enjoy the movie. It’s subtitled, though you’ll get engrossed in the action and not notice anyway. Bless those Germans; they do kink very well.”
Never mind the main feature, there’s subjectively a femdom play going on before the movie even starts, and it’s coming from Jess!
On sitting down near the back of theatre, she manages to spill the contents of her pursuit on the floor. I’m struck again just how a woman with ordinarily such outstanding poise and apparent athleticism can otherwise be a complete klutz on occasion. Anyway, I’d already quaffed my wine, while Jess was still clinging onto her beverage, so instinctively set to fishing for the contents on my hands and knees in the dark, along with a “Oh thank you!” from Jess.
Initially, she appears to pull her legs together to one side to allow me space to get down underneath her, but as I come up with lipstick and other items, I realize that I’ve surfaced between her legs, which I can make out in the darkness as now being braced high and wide up on the seats in front of her.
A flash of light suddenly spills out from the cinema screen as the curtains apparently open and the trailers commence, explicitly revealing in close-up, latex clad legs and a skirt hitched up to the extent that the creamy white flesh of upper thigh is visible eiter side of latex pantie’s gusset.
I gulp on handing over the random items which she accepts above me with a “thanks” and a poker face, before replacing them in the pursuit in her lap.
Going down again to scrapble around the floor for the last few things I hadn’t been able to hold, I’m practically shivering with nervous excitement at the cheap thrill that’s occurring.
Retrieving the bits and pieces and offering them to Jess again, she then slowly and deliberately sits more upright, bringing her knees up together right before my eyes, prior to moving them to one side and allowing me up.
The movie starts quickly afterwards, leaving the previous act unquestioned. Meanwhile, the kink continues on-screen.
On getting stuck into the film, it turns out Katie was right. There’s a scene where a femme fatale character breaks into her boyfriend’s house. He sees her in the mirror approaching him from behind. A leather gloved hand snakes its way around his wait to hiscrotch and into his pants – but it’s a distraction – suddenly the other, dominant hand now wraps itself around the man’s mouth and nose, subduing him in an arguably erotic manner.
Jess is leaning in close as the tension builds, her head now almost on my chest. Does she know I’m breathing heavily?
“I can feel your heartbeat,” she whispers. “Are you excited?” she asks.
“Ah yeh, it’s very safe,” I reply, answering strategically.
Cue another tense but sexually charged on-screen moment, and my body behaves even more incongruous to what I’m prepared to admit verbally. I just happen to be pitching a tent when a startled Jess buries her head in my lap. My whole body stiffens in horrified embarrassment, paranoid that I’m going to be found out.
The odd probing question aside though, she never seems to say anything as to what’s occurring between us during these moments; this one provoking a mental disappoint, with others inferring my subscription to her.
Is it deliberate on her part, allowing these acts to come and go insidiously? Is she like a cat playing with a mouse? Or to coin my boxing-loving Irish Da’s description of a well-known boxer – “A bloody evil one who uses a living shot to incapacitate their opponent, but instead of finishing them off, reveals in the sight of the other person squirming in pain, weakened for more punishment to come.” And is it really punishment? Is it punishment if its actually what you desire?
As such, we part again with nothing else than another kiss of her hand, instigated by her, and a promise to meet up as part of Katie’s ‘club night.’
I head back to Katie’s place South of the river, wanting to quiz her about what these fetish nights entail exactly, but not expecting to actually see her cocome back tonight. I think again on that as I find the front door to her apartment slightly ajar. My first thought is that she’d gone to the pub with ‘her mates’ after she’d bumped into us, and maybe comeback in a bit of a state.
I ring the bell anyway, despite having been given a set of spare keys, always paranoid that I’m going to disturb Katie doing something – so to speak. With no answer forthcoming, a different paranoia sets in, thinking that maybe I could be disturbing something actually sinister, this not being the most salubrious part of London.
Pushing the door further ajar, I holler out for Katie, to no response. I figure I’d hear someone scuttling out of a back window if I’d disturbed burglars, so make my way in. Maybe Katie had just accidentally left the door open when she left earlier this evening?
I find myself creeping rather than casually walking in all the same. It’s funny how in times of tension and stress I look to relive it with eroticism; thoughts turning back to the movie. What if There’s an erotic burglar behind the door? What if it’s Jess with her leather gloves who’ll grab me from behind, her leather gloves restricting my breathing? Would itbe autoerotic like in a drowning that Katie’s pathologist friend maintains?
Stuff appears to be straight around, but then Katie isn’t the tidiest girl I’ve ever met. The room I’m staying in has definitely been turned upside down though; clothes in my suitcase tossed around the room. I’m thankful I didn’t bring any of the evidence with me here!
Moving on down the hallway, I peek into Katie’s room. Fuck! There’s some feet visible under clothes hanging in her opened wardrobe!
Edging closer, I silently but frantically look around for something to grab as a weapon. Sure as nuts there’s nothing to be found.
As I near the wardrobe I can see that they’re patent leather boots, with heels; ladies boots. Well, maybe it is an erotic intruder, I half joke to myself, still scared. Leaning in and suddenly swiping the clothes to one side, reveals … nothing.
I mentally kick myself for being such a paranoid Android, and relax somew as I check the other rooms. I still jumpp though when my phone buzzes: a message from Jess saying she really enjoyed the date and is ‘looking forward to a different kind of date with me at Katie’s club. x o x o.’
I’m already thinking (overthinking more like) how to respond to Jess’ text without sounding too eager, as I call Katie to explain how she’s been burgled.
As it turns out she didn’t sound too distraught, stating that she didn’t really have any value and that her laptop with work stuff on it was at her girlfriend’s house with her. Anything personal that may be missing, she said, she’d evaluate tomorrow, along with fixing the lock, and would I mind holding the fort till then?
Hold the fort I did, with the aid of a chest of drawers wedged up against the front door. The intrusion and lack of security contributed to a sleepless night, resulting in me pondering my relationship with Jess. I’d only met her this morning, but I’m already building her up in my mind. Everything has happened so quickly I haven’t had time to assimilate it in my brain. Are we friends or potentially something more, and if we are something more then what exactly? A conventional girlfriend/boyfriend relationship, or … something else?
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