Camellia (16 page)

To her, the way these men displayed their wealth was obscene. They deserved to be relieved of it.

'Excuse me, sir,' She would smile right into their eyes, leaning forward a little so they could see down into her cleavage. 'I'm afraid a bird's done his business on your hair.'

They always reacted the same way, a hand moving to their heads, their fat faces flushed with embarrassment, never for one moment suspecting the pretty girl with shining long hair and a tiny miniskirt was going to rob them.

'I'll clean it off for you,' she'd say, smiling understandingly. 'It's supposed to be lucky but it isn't very nice, is it?'

With a tissue in one hand she'd mop away at them, distracting them with her cleavage, long legs and friendly banter. It only took a second to get her hand inside the appropriate pocket, another to slip it into hers.

Sometimes they tried to date her, almost begging her to come for a drink. 'You are a real sweety,' was her stock answer. 'But I've got to meet my boyfriend. Another time perhaps.'

She was off into the crowd before they could draw breath, down into the underground toilets to count the notes and dispose of the evidence, then home to Dougie to while away the rest of the day smoking dope, listening to music, making love and basking in his admiration.

Early in 1968 Dougie came home one afternoon grinning from ear to ear.

Camellia was huddled over the gas fire, with a blanket round her. It was a little after four, but dark outside. She had closed the shutters hours ago to try and make the room warmer, but it did no good.

Dougie had been gone since ten that morning. His Afghan coat was covered with snow and it gleamed on his dark curls like a sprinkling of sequins.

'It's still snowing then?' she said, just for conversation. Dougie didn't like to be asked where he'd been.

'Yup, it's six inches in places,' he said cheerfully, putting his coat over the back of a chair and coming closer to the fire to warm his hands. 'You should see Hyde Park, it looks like a Christmas card.'

Camellia didn't really want any reminders of Christmas. Dougie hadn't been able to get any dope, either for himself to smoke or to sell, and he'd been like a bear with a sore head. Camellia had cooked a chicken and all the trimmings, but he'd found fault with everything.

'How would you like a night in a posh hotel?' he asked. 'Long hot baths, loads of food and booze?'

'I'd die for it,' she said. In fact she would settle just for getting into bed.

'Well, princess, your wish is granted.' He made a low bow and kissed her feet. 'This Saturday, and get some kinky undies to please me.'

He said he wanted to take her for a long weekend to Brighton, but he was afraid the trains would be cancelled because of the snow. But as Camellia had never stayed in any hotel, not since she was a kid and came to London with her mother, she was just thrilled to be going somewhere smart.

'It's going to be like a fantasy,' he grinned as they chose underwear from a shop in Shaftesbury Avenue. 1 want you to make out you're a tart I've just picked up on the streets and I'll give you the time of your life.'

It was just after eight when they got out of the taxi in Upper Berkeley Street. It had stopped snowing two days before and the roads had been cleared, but there was still a great deal on roofs, trees and walls. The George Hotel looked wonderfully inviting, golden light spilling out of the half-glazed doors down white marble steps.

Camellia was wearing her white fur coat, and beneath it a tight red dress, black stockings and high heels.

She was glad Dougie seemed so confident. Just walking into the plush foyer with a uniformed doorman and a smart blonde receptionist behind the desk made her blush. But Dougie announced himself as Mr Green and signed the register as if he'd spent his life in such places.

'From now on you've got to play the game,' he said as they got in the lift.

Dougie had given her some speed just an hour before but it wasn't until they got into the room that she noticed how stoned she was.

The warmth and luxury wrapped round her like a blanket. The big bed was turned down in readiness for them, and the heavy brocade curtains, soft cream carpet and beautiful bathroom beyond made her feel like a film star. There was champagne in an ice bucket and a basket of fruit, and when Dougie switched on some soft music, Camellia felt herself being carried into the fantasy.

'Let me take your coat,' Dougie said, just like a gentleman. As he slipped it off her shoulders he bent to kiss her neck. 'Now some champagne.'

Camellia tried out the bed as Dougie opened the bottle. She felt like bouncing on it, but that wasn't in character for the fantasy. The black basque bought in Shaftesbury Avenue was tight and restrictive, but it made her feel deliriously naughty. She lay back on the bed seductively, propping herself up on one elbow, and pulled her skirt up so Dougie would just get a glimpse of stocking-tops. A long low mirror on the dressing table and another behind her above the bed gave her a perfect, all-round view of herself, something she never got at home.

She felt she'd never looked so sexy. Her red dress was dramatic, the basque pushing up her breasts so they almost spilled over the low neckline. With her long dark hair loose on her shoulders and false eyelashes enhancing her almond eyes, she could be a beauty queen, or at least a high-class call girl.

Dougie had never looked quite so cool before either. In a new red velvet jacket, a frilly shirt and black tight trousers, his hair freshly washed and tied back in a ponytail, he made her think of cardsharps on Mississippi river boats.

'Come and sit on my lap,' he suggested, passing her a glass of champagne. 'Let's get to know one another a little better.' Camellia was only too pleased to do so. She kicked off her shoes, took a sip of her drink, giggled as the bubbles went up her nose, then wiggled her way over to where he sat in an armchair.

'You're very beautiful.' He stroked her hair, then ran one finger lightly round her lips as if it was their first date. 'Can I kiss you?'

This was the kind of fantasy that really got her going. Dougie smelled beautiful, he had shaved carefully and the drink was going straight to her head.

He kissed her the way he had on their first night together, so tenderly she was reassured he really loved her. If she wanted him to do this more often she would have to make the night memorable for him too.

Standing up, she turned the music up just a little louder and started to dance. Dougie smiled up at her, his eyes said he adored her. She was good at dancing and the soft lights, the deep pile beneath her feet made her feel wanton and abandoned.

Swaying her hips she teased him, slowly reaching behind her to unzip her dress and let it slide down her body to reveal the basque, stockings and those wicked flame-red, crutchless panties.

A glimpse of herself in the mirror brought a rush of excitement. The exposed breasts, the white of her thighs between the black basque and the stockings, and the mound of dark hair peeping through the panties made her think of photographs she'd seen in Soho bookshop windows. She was the favourite girl in a harem, brought on for her master's delight. Tonight she would do everything he'd ever dreamed of.

She opened her legs wider, lowered her hand to her vagina and parted her lips, gasping more at her own audacity than with passion.

'More,' Dougie urged her. 'More!'

He was always trying to make her masturbate in front of him, but until now she had always been too embarrassed. But it was as if she was someone else tonight. It was watching him that got her really excited. His eyes were glowing, lips red and moist, every now and then his tongue flickering across them. She put her fingers right into herself, groaning with pleasure and when Dougie moved from his seat to lift her up in his arms, she slid one into his mouth.

'Delicious,' he whispered as he laid her down on the bed. He didn't seem to notice they were facing the wrong way, but then it hardly mattered to her either.

The speed slowed things down, yet heightened the sensations. Each kiss was longer and deeper, as he stroked her thighs, her arms and back so lingeringly every nerve-ending responded. He moved one of the spotlights on the bed so it played right onto her open legs and pointed out her reflection in the mirror above the bed.

'Watch yourself come,' he whispered, thrusting his fingers into her already wet and ripe fanny. She had no need to fantasise about anything now to heighten the sensation. Just the sight of Dougie's pointed red tongue moving down to lick her, her nipples like two big raspberries sticking out above the black satin, the suspenders, stocking-tops and the opulence of the room was enough. Dougie was licking at her like a man possessed, still fully dressed.

'I want to suck you,' she commanded him, fumbling for the zip on his trousers. 'Now.'

Dougie peeled off his clothes slowly, pausing every now and then to touch her again or to bend and kiss her. He was wearing new tiny black underpants and his bulge looked enormous.

Camellia knelt beside him on the bed, stroking the bulge through his pants, holding his balls with the other hand. He was groaning, resting back on his elbows, watching her as his penis rose out of the pants, purple tipped and shiny. Wriggling down she lay beside him, taking one of his hands to her, while she closed her mouth round him and sucked.

She had never liked doing this before, but now his pleasure came before hers. Again and again she ran her tongue the length of him, then back to take it in her mouth. She liked his quietness – no crude words, just soft moans, his fingers burrowing into her like she was the most special thing in the whole world.

Camellia was on fire. Time and time again Dougie brought her to the edge of a climax, only to stop and change position; from behind like a dog, his fingers massaging her clitoris, then turning her over and bending her legs up above her shoulders and leaning over to bite and suck at her breasts.

'Make me come,' she kept calling out. 'Please, please.'

'Not until I do,' he grinned lasciviously, ramming fingers into her, turning round to make her suck him again and reciprocating with his tongue on her.

They moved from bed to chair, sideways, front ways and from the back. She felt as if she were in the middle of a whirlpool, being sucked in deeper and deeper. Her hair was damp with sweat. Rivulets ran down between her breasts and thighs making the basque stick to her. Still Dougie showed no sign of weakening.

When he turned over on his back for a moment, Camellia leapt astride him, impaling herself on his penis, dragging her nails down his chest.

'Fuck me,' she screamed at him. 'Harder!'

She came just moments before he did, riding up and down on him till she finally exploded inside. He rolled her over and with a few more long, hard strokes he was finally done.

Camellia was too exhausted to move. Her eyes wandered weakly to the clock and she saw it was after twelve. They had been making love for four hours.

'How was that?' Dougie whispered, pulling the sheets up over her.

'Wonderful, amazing,' she whispered back, reaching out to hold him.

'I'll just go and get us a drink,' he said. 'Won't be long, then we can cuddle all night.'

She was too drowsy to protest. She saw him pull on his trousers, heard the click of the door opening and her eyes drooped.

A faint knock opened them again, just seconds later. She lifted her head thinking someone had tapped on their door. Instead she saw Dougie had left it open.

From out in the corridor she heard him speak.

Suddenly she was wide awake. Earlier today he had said something about calling room service if they wanted a drink or food. Why hadn't he used the telephone? Wrapping a sheet round her she stumbled towards the door. She could hear another man's voice.

As she reached the door she strained her ears. What she heard Dougie say made her gasp in horror.

'Good performance, eh? Was she good or what?'

For a moment Camellia was frozen to the spot. A sick feeling washed over her. She looked back to the bed. Dougie had dimmed the lights over it as he left the room and she could barely see her reflection in the mirror above the headboard now.

A two-way mirror!

She didn't want to believe it, but it was the only explanation. He hadn't intended this to be a wonderful night of love, a taster of the kind of glamorous life he wanted to lead with her. It was a set-up!

Standing there by the open door she shook with rage. She wanted to burst into that room next door and cause a scene, but even in her anger she knew that could be dangerous. Turning away, she went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and locking it. There was only one mirror in here, above the basin, but as a precaution she hung a towel over it, stinging with humiliation.

Tears wouldn't come, she was beyond that. This was betrayal of the worst kind, treating her like a peep-show for a couple of perverts. She recalled every movement, every word she'd called out and the more she remembered, the more shame she felt. What would he do next? Hire her out to a friend for money? Stand by and watch another man make love to her?

She was in the bath when Dougie returned, the hot water right up to her neck.

'What you doing, babe?' he called out. 'I thought you'd be asleep!'

It was all Camellia could do not to roar out her anger at him. He had been gone almost half an hour. She imagined him drinking with these men, laughing and bragging at how much he turned women on. He was despicable, but she'd fix him this time.

Camellia got out of the bath and put on one of the thick towelling dressing gowns left behind the door. Her hair was wet, hanging like seaweed on her shoulders, her scrubbed face showing how young she really was.

Dougie was sitting on the bed. On the bedside table was a plate of ham sandwiches and two glasses of coke.

'Put something over that mirror,' Camellia said quietly. 'They've had their money's worth.'

The shock on his face was almost laughable. His mouth fell open, his eyes bulged right out of his head. 'You knew?' he gasped.