The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Adventures of Belinda Nicholson, AKA Flapper Girl

Chapter 3

A Night At The Movies

Yes, as I mentioned earlier, despite being a Superheroine of sorts, I am permitted a social life. And, like so many hetero and frisky flappers, for me, that includes sex. Yes, dears, I know: no birth control back then, when I was writing this, so lets just say at limited times of the month, it was just me, and ...well, err, me (yes, I am blushing)! The rest of the month might have been a whole lot more interesting, though!

So anyway, this one Friday morning, I’m waiting at the coffee bar, to get my extra caffeine kick before I head on into work. No, darlings, none of these trendy things you drink nowadays, just good, simple coffee. And while I’m waiting patiently in the queue, this nice-looking guy comes up behind me and starts chatting. Now, don’t get me wrong: I’m not a vision of beauty, but I’m not a bad looker either, so, yes, it does happen from time to time.

Anyway, we seem to be getting it on nicely, when I hit the front of the queue and order my coffee. So when I get asked if I want milk and sugar (yes to both, if you’re wondering), he’s also asking me if I fancy going out to the movies with him, but I’m more focused on that cup of java. So, when I say “yes” to the coffee guy, nice-looking guy thinks I mean “yes” for the movie, given he’s moved up and is standing next to me at the next place, looking at me. So, as I’m taking my first sip, I hear, “Fine, I’ll pick you up at seven, what’s your address?”

I wonder what I’ve let myself in for, but … whatever, I’m impressed by his forwardness, so I give it to him, not having a clue who he is. Could have been a supervillain, recently arrived in town, planning to kidnap me, and do terrible things to my body ... if I’m in luck. Yes, darlings, I know; I fight for good, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a few kinks in me. And lets face it: part of the job is getting tied up, and far worse things than that (no, no one has actually brainwashed me … yet … but ... my time will come, I’m sure—I say as I roll my eyes), so its probably just as well if you enjoy them from time to time. Me, well, I might ... again I fail at trying to look angelic.

I get home from work, and decide to make an effort, and dress to impress. Boy, I look a picture: short dress, cute bob, nicely made up, all ready for a lovely evening. If only you could see me, but ... shame! Just before seven, I hear a car horn outside, and look out. There he is, in a pretty new looking Ford. I’m even more impressed, thinking, “You might just have landed on your feet here, Billie dear.” Then I notice a couple in the rumble seat at the back. Sheesh! What fun can we get up to later, with company?

So I slip my shoes on, trot outside, and get introduced. Apparently it’s his sister, Fiona, and her boyfriend, John, off to a club, and we are just dropping them off on the way. So we will be alone later then! Oh, goody! I finally get to know his first name at least—he’s Callum. A bit reticent on the surname … no idea why. Still, Callum is good looking, clearly fancies me, I think he’s got potential—some of which I plan to discover later (thankfully I’m at the right time of the month for that)—and so ...

Okay, so I don’t know if this is a reference to me which he thinks might impress, or just a recommendation, but we pull up nearby, and the movie showing is called “The Perfect Flapper.” Well, I might be, darlings, but that’s not for me to say. Anyway, comedy and romance is a good combination for me, so I snuggle down next to him in the back seats and enjoy. So, fine, its not going to win any major awards, but the flick is a nice way to spend a couple of hours, snuggled up close to a nice, good looking guy.

At the end of the movie, he offers me his arm and I take it, saucily giving him a kiss on the cheek as I do so. I fancy so much more later, but for now, in public, I’ll be a good girl, of sorts! Back in the car, he asks me if I’d like to go somewhere else, or whether I’d like him to take me home. I’d like to tell him to take me home, and fuck me senseless, but I am trying to be ladylike, so ... I mustn’t use one of my ‘naughty’ cigarettes on him, must I? But I have no desire to end the evening this soon, so I suggest a drink, and am deliberately vague—given Prohibition and things, I have no idea if he drinks or not, and besides, he’s driving, so may not want to, anyway. Whatever, he takes me to a bar, but before you get any thoughts, the strongest drink served there is my beloved coffee. So sweet, not trying to get a girl all giggly drunk and have his wicked way with her, even if she secretly wants him to do just that!

I do light up while we’re there, but a standard cigarette, dears, nothing more than that (Yes, I know, you can’t do that now, but, when I wrote this, smoking was regarded as trendy and cool!). We talk, and, the more I hear about him, the more I like. He won’t tell me anything more than that he designs stuff, but, hey ho, we all have our secrets, I have quite a big one that I haven’t told him about, let’s face it! I hope, at least, he has no idea that he’s dating the superheroine, Flapper Girl, after all.

So, alright, the evening begins to close, and its time for him to run the little lady home. Sadly, he makes absolutely no move on me in the car—I hope this is only because he’s a gentleman, and not because he isn’t interested in me. Seems to be the former, because when I lean over and kiss him sweetly on the lips, he reciprocates with interest, a good sign!

Fine, looking good, so I invite him up for coffee. Okay, my place is not going to impress the Rockefellers, but, for a youngish girl, making her way through life, its fine. And thankfully the family money means I have my own place, none of this sharing lark. To my delight, he accepts. Now, out on the street, I have to be good, and not shock the public any more than we ‘saucy women’ are meant to do, at least. Behind closed doors, especially my closed door, the rules might just change a little. But lets see if I need to ...

I make us drinks, I switch the radio on and look for a station playing jazz, hoping it is something we can dance to ... close to each other! I’m in luck, and very soon I’m in his arms, dancing around my room, and ... after a little while, I whisper in his ear, “Shall we go somewhere more private?” as I look towards my bedroom door. Thankfully, he doesn’t need much of a hint, and very soon, we’re kissing and cuddling on my bed, removing a layer or two of clothing in the process.

Err, I don’t actually have to ask if he fancies sex with me; I’m getting a big clue, pushing itself into me. Yes, he’s as hard as a rock, and I haven’t even helped him in the slightest! Well, alright, I have, it’s my cute body that’s got him this way, but what I mean is, no cheating!

I pull down his briefs, and I’m not disappointed. Not only is he rock hard, he’s big too! This is going to be just so much fun! I don’t need much foreplay; I’m wet enough just from looking at him, and his ... mmm! But even so, he makes sure, yet I think the wet, squishy noises I’m making around his fingers are soon enough of a clue that I’m ready. He slips in and, oh boy, I feel full; this guy is loaded! No, its not sex, in a literal sense, this is making love, in the best sense of the word. Ten minutes or so later, he shoots a hefty load in me, and I cum like Mount Vesuvius on a lively day, oh wow! We spoon, and just lay there for a while, enjoying the afterglow, and both enjoying a cigarette, too.

Then finally, sadly, about one in the morning, he says he’d better go, but he added he’d see me again soon. Yes, yes, heard that all before, but for once, I hoped he was right. Not saying I was 100% sure that he was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, but I could do a lot worse.

The rest of the weekend passed in a bit of a blur, though I did do a patrol on Saturday night, but nothing happened, really. Then, on Sunday afternoon, my phone rang, so I answered it: “Hello.”

“Call for you, Miss Nicholson.” the operator answered.

“Thanks, put them through.” I replied.

Yes, it was him, asking what my plans were for the week, and if he could see me again soon. Oh boy, he could certainly do that! So yes, we agreed to meet Tuesday afternoon, and that he would pick me up from work then. Lets just say I slept sweetly that night, readers.

But it was only when I got back to work, Monday morning, that I discovered the whole story. Janie looked at me and whistled, “That was some date you had Friday night, I’m truly impressed by your pulling power, girl.”

I looked at her, baffled.

“Don’t you know who he is, Billie?”

I shook my head, “Not a clue, he chatted me up Friday morning, when I was getting my coffee, don’t even know his surname.” I winked at her, “I do know he’s good in bed though!”

She burst into laughter, “So he should be, darling, he’s the most eligible bachelor in the whole of River City. Clearly you haven’t seen pictures of Callum Frasier, then?

Who did she say? Oh my, that means ... “Oh!”

“I’ll say oh, alright, Billie dear, you fell in with the right one there. Assuming you didn’t put him off, that is?”

“Err, err, no, he’s picking me up after work, tomorrow evening, to take me out.”

Now it was Janie’s turn to say, “Oh, wow!”