The Mammoth Book of Erotica Presents The Best of Saskia Walker Read Online Free PDF Page A

it. Since their encounter the week before, everything he’d said to her at work had been laden with suggestion of the sexual kind, keeping their affair on rapid simmer. And right now the tug of his call pulled on her, from cunt to mouth. She was salivating for more of what he’d given her.
    “Of course not, Jack. I’m quite sure it would benefit everybody involved.”
    Jack nodded, his eyes gleaming with affirmation. Then he sat back in his chair and watched Lois perform, just like he would watch her perform again that night, with measured willpower and the perfect level of restraint, leading to the ultimate mutual reward.

The Inner Vixen
Saskia Walker
    Daniel is kneeling before me. I walk around him, my paces measured, my long leather boots making a quiet but insistent sound as they brush together. They’re all I’m wearing. Daniel is stripped to the waist, his arms cuffed behind him. I’m admiring his body, so leanly muscular as he kneels on the floor before me, resting on his haunches, his torso upright and proud. As I consider the fact that he is mine, my willing pet, power plumes through me. As if it were a heady sexual elixir, I thrive on it. My core tightens and my sex grows damper with each passing moment.
    His head moves imperceptibly as he watches me, and I revel in his adoring gaze. His cock is hard inside his faded black jeans, but I know he likes that confinement, just as he likes his wrists bound behind his back while I survey him. He’s so alert, so taut with restrained desire. I feel it pouring out of him and it empowers me more.
    As I walk on, circling him, I reach over, pull a chair close behind him, and sit. Over his shoulder, I see our reflection in the mirror. He’s looking too, and it’s the perfect image of woman and lover.
    I trace one hand down his back. His muscles ripple and I know he’s longing for more, for a more vivid assault on his senses: the whip. Making him wait, I sit back in the chair, lift my foot, and rest one stiletto heel between his shoulder blades, edging him forward. He pivots against it and groans aloud, his body arched. I know just how much pain he wants, how much he needs. My body responds to his reaction, heat rising to the surface of my skin. My inner vixen is revving up to full throttle, the essential me – the inner woman that Daniel recognized and introduced me to.
    “How did you know that I would respond?” I asked him the night we met.
    “I saw her, your inner vixen. I wanted to know her. I wanted to experience her.”
    So did I.
    That’s how it began.
    We met at an alternative music event. I was there to photograph it for a guide promoting local gigs. I went alone, which I usually did when I was working. I dressed strong, which meant people wouldn’t bother me – Doc Martens, black combat pants with a studded belt, cropped sports bra, bare midriff, my tribal tattoos on display.
    It was a hot night and heat was rising from the pavement. Inside the pub venue I found the performance room was a large space upstairs, filling fast with the alternative crowd, black-wearing fetishists and goths. I stationed myself by a pillar near the front, where I had a good view of both stage and audience. The atmosphere was already humming with energy when the music kicked off.
    I was busy photographing the first band when I became aware of someone watching me. I scanned the crowd. The man caught my eye and, as he did, he acknowledged me, quickly smiling and walking over. All in black, he was a studious type with shaggy hair and a lean, whip-strong countenance.
    He ducked in against my head to speak over the music, introducing himself, commenting on what I was up to. “Nice camera, is this a hobby?”
    “Started that way. It’s work, this time around. I’m photographing the gig for a new music magazine.”
    He nodded. “I haven’t seen you in the scene before.”
    “I just moved from the other side of London.” I nodded my head to the people behind him. “Looks like