"Okay," she said. My heart leaped.

We put some clothes on over our bikinis and gathered our possessions. Karen said her car was nearby, and we could deposit them there while we went in search of food. We stood up and began to head off the beach. I turned, briefly, and caught my Master's eye. He smiled and nodded.

Some minutes later, after having left our belongings in the back of Karen's Vauxhall Omega, we sat in the window seat of an old-fashioned coffee shop, where an ageing woman laboriously served us cod and chips. The sun, glinting through the window, alighted on Karen's face, bathing her in a warm, golden light, highlighting her fine features. She was very striking, with auburn hair neatly framing her angular face. She had beautiful lips, clearly natural but large and puffy and wonderfully kissable. My body tingled with desire as I stared shamelessly at her, drinking in her beauty.

We discussed life, and work, and films, and men. She was very amusing, with a wry, self-deprecating humour which attracted me instantly: I dislike pomposity and self-importance, and Karen's refreshingly direct manner was very appealing. She was between boyfriends, she told me, after the last one had been dispatched due to an unseemly episode involving a barmaid from Blackpool. She had been without sex for six weeks, she told me confidentially, and it was driving her insane, her longest period of celibacy since she was fourteen. I commiserated.

"You ought to do something about that, pretty sharpish," I said airily, leaving the comment to float, unexplained, in the air. Karen said nothing, but looked at me curiously.

She asked me about myself, which was more complicated, of course. I could hardly tell her that my Master was waiting for me on the beach, his hand still infused with the juices from my pussy.

"Oh," I said, "in my line I have plenty opportunity to meet the right people."

"And what is your line?"

"Well, I suppose you would say I work in a PA capacity. I work directly to my boss, which means I deal with people all the time. It's fascinating work. I never know what's coming, who'll walk through the door next, what challenges await."

"Sounds cool."

"Yeah, and the best bit is that I meet all sorts of people, which is very good for the sex life." I added conspiratorially. "It involves a lot of evening receptions and the like, so I meet a lot of clients." I paused. "And their wives."

Karen said nothing, but I could see that she understood the meaning of what I had said. Her reaction in the next few minutes would be crucial.

"Hmm," she smiled. "That must be very interesting, indeed," she replied. "I've never done anything like that." It was a deliberately ambiguous statement, I was sure.

And I was equally sure that I had pulled.

Casually, I suggested we go back to the beach, and Karen agreed. On the way, I suggested the main beach would be very busy by now, and we should try to find a quieter spot. My heart raced as I waited for her reply.

"Good idea," she said. I turned and smiled at her, and at that moment, as a knowing glance passed between us, the pact was made and both of us knew what lay ahead. We collected our things from the car and wandered across the road and over a small hill, away from the popular, sandy beach and towards the less hospitable, and therefore less frequented sand dunes further up the coast. The sand was coarser, and coastal scrub was everywhere, but it was secluded and, if you looked hard enough, it was possible to find some perfectly amenable spots in which to sit.

Which we did.

I felt quite light-headed as we lay out Karen's rug and arranged our things in complete silence; each of us, I think, were using this mundane task as a displacement technique to overcome our nerves over what lay next. Eventually, we could find nothing else to arrange, nothing to fuss over, nothing to take us from the business at hand. This was the moment. We sat side by side on the rug, and I smiled at her.

"I've never done this before," she said in a small voice. "With a woman, I mean."

I kissed her.

"Well, you're in for a treat then." I drew her to me and she melted into my arms. At first her mouth was rigid, set hard with nerves, but gradually she relaxed and began to return my kisses, and I felt the delightful dart of her tongue into my mouth, a fleeting, momentary incursion before she withdrew it almost apologetically. I pulled my head away from her.

"Mmm, that was nice," I said. "Relax, and do whatever you feel like."

"I will. I'm still a bit nervous."

"Don't worry. You must have fantasised about this. Do whatever you want. Whatever you've dreamed about in the past, tell me and I'll do it. I'll do anything you ask me. Anything."

"Anything?"

"Name it."

We lay back on the rug and I wrapped my arms around her, stroking her arm and stomach. I hooked my left hand under her head and stretched my fingers up to graze across her pale cheek. Leaning over, I kissed her again, a fleeting, delicate touch of lip on lip. I could tell that Karen was wrestling with her emotions, willing herself to go through with this.

"I've always wondered," she said cautiously, "what it would be like to sit on a woman and let her lick me out. I've done it with a guy, but not a woman.

"Your wish is my command," I whispered into her ear. "And anything else?"

"Well," she said, but stopped abruptly. Clearly, there was something else, something she was on the verge of revealing.

"Yes?"

"No, nothing. Not just now, maybe later. It's too much."

"Nothing is too much," I said, excitement causing my voice to quaver. This did sound interesting 3;