Katie's Place (1 of 3) - Sex Stories

Katie's Place (1 of 3)

... was earning more cash per hour than she had in her last job and all she had to do was look after a key. She stood up and pulled her disheveled hair back into a ponytail. Her tight shorts were starting to ride up again and so she reached behind her to pull them down. She slipped into her old trainers walked back out to reception. Once there she turned off the main power switch, plunging the whole place into darkness and with very little light coming from the alley outside, the place had a very quiet and still mood. Katie unlocked the front door and stepped out in the evening air, warm even though the sun had set. Katie locked the front door behind her and slipped the silver key in beside the padlock key. She assumed he’d be okay, after all what trouble could anyone get into inside her concrete cell. She stuffed her hands into her pockets and walked quickly down the alley and joined the busy main street less than one hundred meters away. As she walked, she started to plan for the next day. Things were not going to work out quite how her guest was expecting. *** That night, in complete darkness, he had removed his suit and shirt and laid them down carefully on the floor. He didn’t have his phone and the complete lack of any light made his watch as good as useless. She had effectively left him in complete sensory deprivation, unable to hear or see anything. He lay down and was soon asleep. He woke at various times but had no way of knowing whether ten minutes or ten hours had ...

... passed. At one point he climbed to his feet and felt for the door. The metal was colder than the room as he pushed hard against it. He smiled as he imagined the padlock, just inches away, that she had snapped shut and which he had no hope of ever opening. He felt very safe and relaxed as he lay back down and returned to sleep. Katie was tossing and turning in her small flat ten minutes walk away. There was no air conditioning and the fan did little to cool the humid air. She lay in the middle of her double bed naked, having long since kicked off the sheet. At 5 a.m., just as the sun was rising, she finally gave up trying to sleep and stepped across her untidy room collecting several days of discarded clothing. With just a towel around her, she walked down to the communal laundry and stuffed everything into the washing machine. Carrying the keys to the cell that she’d kept close to her body ever since locking him up, she ran barefoot back up to her room. She threaded the keys on to a silver chain that she wore around her neck and jumped into the shower. She washed her hair twice and scrubbed her body until steam and the smell of body wash filled her small flat. She waxed her legs and dressed in a short blue dress that hugged her body, but did little to cover her legs. She put her hair in a neat ponytail and applied make up and heels. She finally returned to the laundry to retrieve and slip on a clean bra and pair of panties. With two takeaway coffees in one hand and her keys in ...