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Helena Stephenson’s mind was swirling; she just wanted to be there and not have to wait any longer. All this time preparing for her trip and all she seemed to be doing now, was waiting. She must have looked at the electronic board in the departure lounge for the fiftieth time, and still there was no indication of a boarding gate for her flight.

Annoying little kids kept tripping over her feet as their parents ignored protocol and opted for a quiet life. She wanted one of them to fall flat on their face to teach them, and their parents, a lesson; it never happened though. She watched seasoned travellers plump their fat arses down on the flimsy seats opposite her and even had to endure the sleazy businessman that seemed intent on making conversation; she had put him off several times with a shy, polite smile and a shrug of her shoulders but he was persistent. He even changed languages to try and get her into a conversation. She let out a heavy sigh and looked at the board one more time.

Fuck it! Gate 26 was boarding for Prague. Helena practically jumped from her seat, grabbed her carry-on luggage and headed in the direction of gate 26. She glanced back over her shoulder and was relieved that the businessman had stayed put. She then had to apologise, profusely, to the older gentleman who she had ran in to the back of.

Men’s heads turned as she sauntered through the departure lounge. It didn’t matter how many eyes were looking at her, she felt confident that no one had a clue as to what she was really like underneath. Helena ended up midway in the growing queue for the flight. She shivered. Not from the cold but from the sheer excitement of being there, in the queue, waiting to board the plane.

It wasn’t long before she was sitting next to a middle aged couple in seat 17C; exactly mid-way down the plane. A young lad, probably a fellow student sat opposite her on the other side of the aisle, the same lad that had put her carry-on bag into the overhead compartment. She looked at him, wondering whether his name was Chris.

Helena studied just about everyone that got on the plane labelling them as too old, too young or not just right. In fact, she didn’t know whether the person she was to meet would be on the flight or whether they were coming from a different airport or a different country or whether they lived in the Czech Republic. All she had was the name of the hotel; the Art Deco Imperial Hotel, Prague.

The two hour flight dragged; she chatted to the lad opposite her for a while and was slightly disappointed to find that his name was Ewan. The polite conversation lasted only a few minutes before she closed her eyes as she rested her head on the back of the chair. In seconds, random images of sexual abandon burst into her mind, which were quickly followed by images of her being taken while on all fours; her blonde ponytails gathered in one hand and her head pulled backwards as a large phallus penetrated her inner depths.

Helena realised she had let out a sigh, whether of contentment or not she couldn’t say. By the time she opened her eyes she found that the lady next to her was looking in her direction and smiled at her when their eyes met. Helena smiled back and then realised that her hand was between her legs and that one finger was pushed tight against her zip. She quickly relaxed her hands and pushed them down her legs and let out a sigh of relief that she hadn’t actually started to masturbate.

Helena glanced furtively to her left and right before relaxing once more.

ooOoo

Five months earlier, Helena, a raw University graduate had met a friend; several in fact. They were to become a very tight knit group within a month and within six weeks she would end up having sex with one of the members. His name was David.

David was not a shy boy by any means. His sexual experience belied his tender age of eighteen, and his enthusiasm for showing Helena all he knew about sex, knew no bounds, to the point where Helena started to dress for him. Not the usual stockings and suspenders. No, this was the leather basques, the dog collars, the handcuffs and the nipple clamps.

Within four months, Helena had been introduced to fetish clubs. That was where she met Debbie, another college student, who was two, maybe three years older than her. Debbie had her own circle of friends and soon both circles started to weave together in an intricate pattern. Debbie introduced Helena to websites and on-line dating and that is how she found FetLife. In fact, Debbie introduced Helena to lots and lots of things, none of which disturbed Helena.

Helena was not naïve even though she often played the role of the little lost schoolgirl, and she was led, rather enthusiastically, towards every twist and turn of her adventure. She revelled in the more kinky side of her sexual world. She shocked David to the core when she kissed Debbie’s friend, Monica, full on the lips and then slipped her finger between her leather gusset and into her pussy within minutes of meeting her. The pièce de résistance was bringing it out and sucking on it in front of him and then telling him how nice it tasted.

David didn’t last long after that. In a matter of five months after meeting him, Helena was into just about everyone and everything. But she had come to like some aspects better than others. Her experimentation knew no bounds, but she had a penchant for a certain type of experience; one that she kept going back to time and again.

It was while Helena browsed through the contacts of FetLife that she came across a character that intrigued her, excited her, set her soul on fire and then, once it was fully alight, exploded it into tiny fragments. Helena sent pictures of her but received none in return. Just commands and compliments when she did the right thing.

Which was why, after two months of emailing, texting, sexting and foraging through forum’s and chat programs on the web, she finally got excited at the suggestion that they meet – sort of anyway.

With all the good intentions in life, Helena was not about to pass on this opportunity and throw away how she felt, even to the point or arguing with her mother when she informed her that she would be late home for Christmas. The usual barrage of questions ensued and Helena just parried them to one side.

Excitement flooded through her and it was, with relief, that she made the arrangements and bought the ticket.

ooOoo

The captain of the plane announced their descent into Václav Havel Airport, Prague. Her ears popped as the plane surged suddenly. There would be more waiting of course, to get off the plane, to get through passport control, to get a taxi. Fortunately, there would be no need to wait for her bag because that was already on the plane with her.

The plane glanced over the runway and Helena could feel the softness of rubber gently touch the tarmac. A sudden reverse thrust threw her into her seat; along with all the other unsuspecting passengers before the plane taxied to the holding bay.

Seat belts were unclasped, people rose from seats, overhead lockers were opened, bags and coats were extracted and everyone just stayed where they were. Ewan, next to her, offered to get her bag down and she smiled politely at his request and moved to one side. He must have thought she was such a lovely girl, probably on vacation, or meeting with friends; at least part of that was true.

The middle of the plane was not the best position to be in, whichever way she looked she had to wait a long time to get off, but when her chance came she took it. She rushed through the corridors of the airport as quickly as she could, through passport control and onto the empty customs area. She was out of the airport in less than twenty minutes and was soon faced by the most dashing taxi driver imaginable.

Helena fumbled for the address and name of the hotel and presented it to, what was his name? Leopold? He did say, but she had already forgotten. Her bag was lifted into the trunk, she climbed into the back seat and they were soon driving away from the busy melange of people.

Helena surprised herself by waving to Ewan as her taxi rounded the bend before making its way out of the airport. On the way, Helena studied everything, the language on bill posters, the tower blocks and the run down local amenities. They passed several yellow buses before it started to get dark and after twisting and sidestepping through increasingly narrower streets full of parked cars she was deposited outside the Art Deco Imperial Hotel.

Helena thought that the taxi fare was quite reasonable and the driver was just as dishy after, as he was before. If only he knew what she wore at night? She looked him over as he bent into the trunk to retrieve her baggage.

The receptionist was equally charming, more so, and Helena was booked into her room with sublime efficiency. As she turned to leave, her name was called, and she turned back to see the receptionist extend her hand. She took the offered envelope and studied it briefly before thanking her and retiring to her room.

The lift took seconds, the room just around the corner and her hands were down her knickers the moment she flopped on the bed after loosening her tight jeans. She played with the golden rings that adorned her labia; pulling on the pearls at the end causing her lips to extend; seconds later fingers pushed inside her.

The grumbling in her stomach stopped her from pleasuring herself and the sudden awareness of the unopened letter grabbed her attention.

Helena ripped the envelope along one edge. Inside, there was a letter and folded piece of paper. She read the letter:

Welcome to Prague.
You won’t be leaving for another couple of days so enjoy the hotel – it is one of the best in Prague.
Tomorrow – you’re mine.
Wear what you feel comfortable in – it will be a cold night. Wear something I think will be sexy and wear something that will turn me on. Other than that – stay warm.
We meet at six in the evening, tomorrow night – see map for details. I’ll know it will be you if you study it when you get there.
Don’t masturbate tonight. I want you feeling fresh and excited.

Helena let out a loud and irritable ‘Fuck!’

The one thing she was looking forward to, on her first night, was her fingers deep inside her or even the vibrator that she brought along; in case of emergencies of course. She studied the letter once more, looking for get-out-of-jail hints but there were none – it clearly said ‘Don’t-masturbate-tonight.’ And that meant tonight, didn’t it!

Obeying the rest of the letter was easy, the pearls that dangled from her lips were sexy and something that her friend didn’t know she wore. Helena pondered on the word friend, she didn’t actually now for certain whether they would be friend or foe; not really. But friend seemed a lot better than the alternative.

Her thoughts sprung back to something that would turn her friend on. Helena thought for a moment and her eyes widened with excitement as she realised what that would be. She would have to wear it tonight, to dinner; just to see how it felt.

The shower called to her from across the bed and since she couldn’t finger herself she may as well get cleaned up. Well, not true actually, she thought, she could fuck herself with the vibrator, no-one said anything about fucking – did they? Only masturbation; Helena was seriously clutching at straws as she peeled her jeans down her thighs.

Helena enjoyed the shower and resisted the urge to fuck herself. She did squeeze a few tender areas of bodily flesh that reacted so nicely to the hot water. She did make sure her pearls and chains were not twisted; she took a while pulling on them to make sure everything dangled freely. She let her hair down and decided to frizz it and let it dry naturally, for once. A finger did find its way up her backside but that was to be expected under the circumstances. She swooned in the shower and gradually increased the hot water to almost boiling point before an idea crossed her mind.

Helena flipped the lever on the overhead shower and water poured from the taps, steam rose quickly and she found herself slithering her body under the bath taps. The jet of hot water hit her clit hard before parting her lips. Helena thrust her backside up and down as she held onto the taps tightly. As her eyes closed, she suddenly pushed backwards with her feet. She was panting hard and grabbing lungful’s of air. Her hand clamped over her pussy and she tensed her body and pressed on it. Her eyes were closed tight.

Helena only just managed to stop her orgasm and decided to get out of temptations way and get dressed for dinner.

The hotel restaurant was plush, exotic and every bit the Art Deco that the name conjured. Bright lime green colours adorned the staircases. Highly ornate marbling covered every facet of the ceiling and pillars of the dining room. It was heaven on Earth; a throwback to imperialistic Europe.

Helena announced herself at the restaurant and was led to a table for one. Within a minute of sitting down, in walked Ewan. Helena started to wonder whether he was the person she had to meet at six the following evening. She firmly parked the thought.

Ewan noticed her, nodded and smiled but decided to let the waiter direct him to another table. To her surprise, it was Helena that asked him to join her.

As two complete strangers, not more than six hours ago waiting in the same queue for a plane, they had a pretty good time at the Art Deco. The conversation flowed easily, the laughter was not pre-meditated and on more than one occasion she found herself admiring Ewan.

The devil in her, however, wanted to know what he would think of her if he knew what she had on underneath her rather staid dress. Helena decided that he would probably faint.

She crossed and uncrossed her legs underneath the table and a shot of electric ecstasy pulsed in her pussy. She had worn the rings and pearls as she always did, but she smiled at Ewan as she thought about the knickers she had on. She parted her legs further only to feel her pussy lips widen. A warm breeze touched her sensitive skin which caused her to shiver.

The knickers she had chosen to pack were open-crotched; with a difference. A while back, Helena had put eyelets through her outer lips. They clamped together on either side once they were inserted through her. The eyes hooked onto special studs that were attached mid-thigh of her open crotched knickers by a small waif like chain. The action of them at normal extension was to hold her lips partly open, yet comfortable. The feeling she got when she spread her legs excited her immensely; especially when her lips peeled backwards exposing her hole to the elements. But right now, the only people that could see were probably too far away and positioned at a table further down the restaurant; obscured by Ewan. Well, hopefully, anyway.

Nevertheless, the action of her opening and closing her legs excited her and made her wet; and it wasn’t masturbation either.

The waitress brought the Crème brûlée to the table and Helena made a conscious effort to be good. Though, good for her, would be to torment Ewan with every spoonful of dessert.  Helena caught the lovely accent of the waitress asking them if everything was satisfactory. Helena couldn’t help but adore her striking features and her soft tone. Her red hair sparkled and Helena stared at her backside a little too long when she left the table.

By the time the evening had come to a close, Helena secretly lusted for a glass floored lift that she could enter and wave goodbye to Ewan as he looked at her. She was out of luck, there were no glass floored lifts at the Art Deco. Ewan was holding the lift door open for Helena as he asked her floor number.

“I think I’ll walk,” replied Helena, “I’m only on the second floor and that food has bloated me.”

Ewan nodded, thanked her for a lovely evening before pressing the button for the sixth floor. Both of them waved their hands in the last seconds of the doors closing.

Helena scolded herself for uttering such a blatant lie. He was a very nice guy, maybe a little too nice, but the real reason was to exercise her lips while she walked. She knew full well that by the time she would reach her room she would be half way to climaxing. Only half way though, and deep down, she really wanted to wait until the next day.

The wait was horrendous. Sleep came – eventually. Breakfast was early, at seven in the morning, purely because Helena couldn’t sleep. She skittered around Prague for a while hopping on and off the trams and visiting the odd castle that stretched across the skyline. She had located the place where she was later to meet her friend and now, at two in the afternoon, after a light lunch, she was on her way back to the hotel to get ready. Snow had started falling quite heavily just after twelve but was starved of taking a hold by the high winds.

Helena made herself ready. She prided herself on her sexual wardrobe and she had chosen the right clothes to bring with her. A leather mid-waist basque was carefully placed around her breasts, twisted to the front, tied together before it was twisted back. It wasn’t used to hold her tiny breasts; it was there for enticement only. She pulled her nipples through the holes so that they would be as bare as possible to the cold night air. Helena casually flicked at them. She then stepped into the leather open crotched knickers that she wore the night before. She carefully threaded the eyes and hooked them into the fabric of her knickers. She debated about the thigh high leather spray-on leg coverings but decided against them in favour of leather boots.

Helena started to tremble as she looked at herself in the mirror. She finalised her face with the tiniest dashes of makeup and decided to plait her hair. The dilemma was whether she tied the plaits on top of her head or let them hang down. Down, she thought. Finally, she put on a scarlet silk shirt and leather skirt; neither of which did anything to conserve her modesty. But tonight was not about modesty. Helena stepped out of the hotel at five thirty. Minutes later, she was back in her room putting on her cream coloured woollen coat, a multi-coloured scarf and a green woollen hat.

 The few seconds outside the hotel hit her hard, Fuck, it was cold. Freezing even.

Helena was back outside and heading for the rendezvous point. The map she held in her hand clearly had an ‘X’ marked on one of the 15th Century Mala Strana bridge towers that stood proud on either end of Charles’ bridge. The time was six precisely by the time she got to the tower and the winter light was already fading rapidly.

Air swirled around her legs but the warmth of her upper thighs was no match for the cold air; the dangling pearls were cold as ice on her skin when they touched it. Her nipples stood erect under her garments. When she reached the top of the tower she loosened the coat and held the map in her hands; brushing the snow off the balustrade in front of her she rested her arms over the end. Helena studied the map and occasionally looked across at the beautiful skyline as she did so.

Helena froze with every person that walked past her; some were obviously couples but she stared intensely at all the single people. Darkness slowly fell over the city. The golden reflections from all the wonderful buildings shone as the city lit up; white light reflected from the snow covered floor and rooftops. At night time, Prague comes to life, even in the winter.

There were only a few people left on the top of the tower and Helena was getting worried that her friend would not turn up. A man stood beside her and started a conversation. Was this him? Her friend? She acknowledged him but there was no mention of anything sexual and then he moved away and bid her farewell.

As she watched him leave a black cloth descended across her eyes from behind her. She was startled and about to turn and push away from the person but the voice placated her.

“Don’t be afraid, Helena.”

The voice was soft. Soothing. Feminine? Helena hoped it would be feminine. In fact, she secretly knew it had to be. There were too many hints in the email and text exchange that they shared; despite all the deviant ways that her friend tried to hide it. No, she had to be feminine and the voice was proof.

The blindfold tightened and Helena felt her nipples harden.

“You look so beautiful, even dressed in that monster of a coat. Take it off.”

Helena let out a languid sigh.  She bit her lip as she pulled her hat and scarf off and dropped them on the floor. She pocketed the map and undid the buttons of her coat; her coat joined the hat and scarf as it slowly slipped off her shoulders. The cold air hit her hard almost freezing her nipples and causing her to clench her stomach with the sudden seizure by the frost. But it could have been the excitement instead.

The short leather skirt did nothing to hide any part of her thighs. She felt hands caress over her skirt and down onto the strip of bare skin. One hand slipped between her thighs and started to make its way back up. Its warmth reassuring that her legs were still there. Another hand slipped through her upper arm and the palm flattened on the end of her erect nipple.

Butterflies erupted in Helena’s stomach. In between squirming and twisting at every touch, she shivered.

Helena gripped the balustrade like her life depended on it. The touch of her friend’s hand, the way she told her how beautiful she was. It wasn’t the words – it was the way they were said. The simple command was everything to Helena and without complaint, she accepted it.

A finger and thumb clamped over her left nipple and Helena heard her gasp with delight.

“What have you got for me? You beauty.”

Helena was beside herself and couldn’t wait for her to find out. Her right hand was taking forever; too long to get to the source of Helena’s excitement.

“Hmm, that is nice. V-e-r-y sexy.”

The words rang out and Helena knew that she had discovered her pearls. Her friend rolled them in between her fingers.

“These feel so sexy.”                                    

Again, whispers of delight massaged Helena’s ego. She twisted her head from side to side to try and savour every feeling, every sound, every word and every breath.

Helena was on the verge of an orgasm and she hadn’t even been touched – yet!

The pearls were gathered delicately in her friend’s hand before she followed them upwards.

Helena waited; panting heavily.

Her friend’s fingers pinched her nipple once more and pulled on it causing Helena to squeal and gasp. The fiercely hot sensation was a welcome relief to the cold frost that collected around them.

“Oh, My!”

The moment had come when her friend’s fingers came into contact with two open lips and hot pussy.

“You are a dirty one. Aren’t you?”

Helena gloated inwardly at the realisation that she had shocked her by her modified open-crotched knickers. She felt her friend move to the side to let her hand wander up the front of Helena’s skirt and she felt three fingers of her hand lay flat against her cold outer lips. Her friend followed the thin chains out to each side before returning her fingers to cover her lips.

“Open your legs.”

The command thrilled Helena. She smiled, grinned and then placed her left leg out to the side. Her knickers stretched. The chains held still and her lips parted. Her friend’s middle finger slipped inside Helena as she moved.

Helena climaxed.

All that mysticism, the soft whispery voice, the teasing, yet it was the simple intrusion of a finger that made her climax.

Helena’s body shook. Her legs actually buckled causing her friend’s finger to delve deeper into Helena’s cunt. In an attempt to stabilize Helena, her friend’s left hand came fast on to Helena’s bottom; grasping and squeezing hard in the process. Helena panted across the balustrade and into Prague’s nightlife.

“What are we to do with you now, eh!”

Helena could not see the smile on her friend’s face at the surprise at bringing off her lovely compliant submissive with just the insertion of a finger, or at the way Helena dressed to please her friend. Helena’s friend thought the pearls were a beautiful touch but when she felt and examined the knickers and what they did to Helena when she parted her legs, she was more than turned on.

“You know you’ve turned me on so much don’t you.”

For the first time, other than sigh or gasp, Helena spoke. “Thank you, Mistress.”

“You came so quickly. I never knew I had that effect on you.”

“I have been so horny, Mistress. You, pleasing me, mean so much to me.”

“Well, I think that dirty little FUCKS like you that come out wearing what you’re wearing, deserve everything they get. Don’t you?”

“Mistress, yes Mistress,” Helena’s voice shook with uncertainty. Her friend’s words were firmer, harder and more forceful as if they were directed at something Helena had done to displease her. Had Helena displeased her?

“I’m going to have to teach you a lesson for dressing like this. What do you say?”

“Mistress, please -”

Helena’s friend stepped behind her. She had opened her coat and had pulled out, and was stroking, a sizeable phallus that jutted from her groin. Her hand rested in the small of Helena’s back and she pushed her forward over the balustrade.

“Please Mistress, don’t make me fall, please.”

Her friend didn’t know what was feeding Helena’s imagination, but she had no intention of allowing her to fall. By the time she placed her cock between Helena’s lips and shoved it all the way in, Helena let out a heavy sigh of relief. A gasp left her mouth and was quickly followed by another and another as her friend pushed it all the way in. Helena let out more gasps when the fingers of both of her friend’s hands rounded and cupped her nipples to squeeze on them.

Helena’s pussy was fucked with great agility and force. She immediately brought Helena off to her second climax but would only be satisfied when she cried out loud. In the rough scuffle of grabbing Helena’s ponytails and pulling on them, the blindfold slipped from Helena’s eyes and floated down to the ground; the dark material, hidden by the night, only became visible when it came to rest on the snow cobbled floor.

Helena let out an audible and very loud groan.

“O-h! F-u-c-k!”

People down below suddenly looked up at the tower to see a woman bending over it; her hands grasping for dear life onto the stone balustrade. Her eyes closed and screaming in a language that few understood. Someone behind her was trying to pull her back off the edge by tugging at her torso.

Helena’s nipples burnt in response to the squeezing that she received from her lover.

A stranger down below ran to the door of the tower, but it was locked. Police were called. A man tried to scale the tower but fell off in his haste into the waiting arms of a group of people below.

Helena came hard on her friend’s cock. The woman leant forward with her last thrust and Helena slumped backwards into her arms.

“Fuck, I think I love you,” said the woman.

Helena smiled. A voice from below shouted, “Look – she’s been saved. She’s alright.”

More than alright, thought Helena. More than fucking alright!

The woman tucked her cock back into her garment and buttoned her coat. She picked up Helena’s garment, hat and scarf and pulled the heavy coat around Helena’s shoulders; the hat and scarf she carried towards the stairs. It was the first time that Helena had set eyes on her.

“Mistress, what’s your name?”

The woman lifted Helena’s chin upwards to meet her stare. She looked into Helena’s eyes and kissed her. The smouldering kiss lasted a few minutes. It was gentle, unhurried, delicate at times and horny at others. When their tongues did touch, Helena nearly climaxed.

The kiss broke with the distant sounds of sirens.

“Angelique,” she said.

Helena brushed Angelique’s auburn hair from her face and over her ears. She kissed her once more before they descended the stairs.

“How do we get out of here? Asked Helena.

“I have the key, I know the keeper,” she said, lifting up the key in her hand.

They exited the tower to a rush of people that surrounded them. Everyone seemed to be caring and concerned. Angelique wrapped her arm about Helena’s shoulders and escorted her through the crowd. The police cars showed up just as they exited the far end of Charles’ bridge.

“My place?” asked Helena.

“No mine. But it’s the same place.”

Helena looked at her, wide eyed and with mouth open.

Angelique’s wicked smile threatened to engulf Helena once more.

“I was watching you last night. You looked so beautiful, chatting to your friend and playing with yourself under the table.”

“How  – ”

Angelique smiled. “I work there – waitress. I served you. Come on, we need to get you to bed.”

Thanks to everyone that has stopped by to read this story. This story was inspired by the picture. To me, it looked like the top of the tower’s at the end of Charles Bridge in Prague. The scene below reminded me of how similar it looked and perhaps it may be that location - who knows. Then my deviant side kicked in and the story burst forth.

Once more, thanks for reading and scoring. I do hope you enjoyed.