Free The Business of Pleasure by Justine Elyot Page A

you so well. Come on. I’ll take you back to the car.’
    Yanking on the nylon, he began to pull Charlotte forward across the leaf-carpet of the woodland, like a man taking his dog for ramble. She could not remember how far away the car was, and she hoped upon hope that Bryant had marked the route they had taken. Despite the raw heat of her backside, it really was getting cold now. Her nipples were like pebbles of ice and the spunk on her thighs had chilled almost to dryness by the time the long march of shame was over and the car came into welcome view.
    Without releasing her neck, Bryant opened the car door and ushered her in.
    ‘My clothes,’ she said haltingly.
    ‘You don’t need those yet,’ he told her. ‘Sit down and get your seat belt on.’
    Charlotte sat gingerly down, the leather seat feeling at first wondrously cool and soothing against her angry switch marks. She pulled the seat belt across her exposed ribs and stomach, clicking it smartly so that the bottom part of it lay atop her nude upper thighs and the diagonal part cut between her breasts, parting them in a way that drew emphasis towards the goose-bumpy mounds.
    Bryant leaned over and loosened the tights around her neck, leaving them swinging like a noose, but then he attached the other end to her wrists, wrapping it round and round until they were secured in her lap.
    ‘I want your legs spread wide,’ he told her. ‘Keep them apart. That’s it.’
    Charlotte opened her thighs until her knee backs hinged over each front corner of the leather seat. Her tethered hands were forced to rest on her mons, fingers framing her gaping labia, close enough to reach in and touch her clit.
    ‘Very nice,’ approved Bryant, who climbed in beside her and started up the engine. ‘You must be hungry. It must be time to eat, I think.’
    ‘Where? How?’ Charlotte craned her neck towards him in wonder and consternation, but he simply smiled and pulled out of the lay-by on to the dark forest track.
    Charlotte was grateful for the quiet, unlit country roads, although she continually dreaded the possibility of a coachload of tourists pulling out in front of them. But it didn’t happen, and eventually they reached a village where Bryant parked up in a secluded corner and prepared to get out of the car.
    ‘What are you doing?’ flapped Charlotte.
    ‘Stay there,’ he said with a reassuring wink. ‘I won’t be long.’
    He wasn’t long, but for Charlotte his absence may as well have been a geological age. Although the parking spot was at the far end of the village, and overlooked only by a sombre church tower, concealing her from the cottages beyond, she imagined the sudden arrival of a gaggle of old ladies, or bellringers, or choral singers. How on earth would they react, she wondered, unsure of whether to giggle or be aghast at the idea.
    Thankfully, she didn’t have to find out, for Bryant soon returned with takeaway cartons of Chinese food.
    ‘Let’s find a private place to eat these,’ he suggested, hitting the road once more until they came to another lay-by, shrouded by overhanging trees, far off the beaten track. Bryant switched on the light and the radio, feeding Charlotte chicken chow mein while the evening news chuntered on in the background.
    ‘You really are hungry, aren’t you?’ he said, impressed at her appetite. ‘This is what I call eating out. Don’t you?’
    ‘Nnrgh,’ said Charlotte, mouth full of noodles, feeling very small and helpless and well-tended-to.
    ‘Have you had enough? Are you sure?’ Bryant stroked her forehead and wiped the remainder of the sauce away with a pristine handkerchief. ‘Shall we just sit here and relax for a little while. The others will be here soon.’
    ‘The others?’ Charlotte tried to sit up straight, but her bottom was sticking to the leather now and it hurt.
    ‘I thought you were a local girl,’ tutted Bryant.
    ‘I … am.’ She tried to hide her mystification.
    ‘Then you should know